Chapter 31 (Alyssa)
I hear shouting somewhere in the distance but I'm unable to move.
I'm so cold. My head feels like it's submerged underwater and I'm floating. There's pressure on my chest and chills are raking up and down my spine.
“Did she have anything to drink?” I hear Jackson's voice growl.
There's mumbling in the distance.
“No, I'm not talking about alcohol, Momma,” Jackson says. “She doesn't drink alcohol. I'm talking about a regular drink. Water? Juice?”
“I think she had some water,” Ricardo says. “I'm not sure, though. We were all paying attention to Momma.”
“Well did she leave her cup anywhere? Fuck, maybe someone slipped something into her drink,” Jackson barks.
I hear some shuffling before I have the feeling of being lifted in the air. Which only does wonders for the feeling of floating that I have. The chills are getting worse and my body is breaking out in a sweat.
My eyes flutter open, but the weight on my chest feels like it's made out of bricks.
“I swear to god. If any of you fuckers slipped anything in my girls drink,” Jackson shouts, addressing the entire bar. “I will find you and you'll need a good plastic surgeon by the time I'm through with you.”
“We need to get her to the hospital, Jackson,” Momma shouts. “She's shaking like a leaf. I think she's sick!”
“What do you mean sick? She was fine this morning and five minutes ago. She's not sick. Someone shithead did something to her,” Jackson roars.
“Wait a minute, Jackson. Think about it, she did run to our apartment last night in the pouring ice cold rain, wearing nothing but a pair of pajamas. It's still winter outside, she must have been freezing,” Tyrone says, worry in his tone.
“Shit. That's right. I should've been paying better attention to her and warmed her up sooner.”
I soon feel a wet cloth on my head courtesy of Momma. “Yeah, she's burning up. She feels feverish. I don't think no one slipped anything in her drink, Jackson. But we better take her to the hospital just to be sure.”
She runs her hand through my hair. “It's alright, Alyssa. Momma's not gonna leave your side. I'm right here, sugar.”
I want to speak, tell her how thankful I am for her, but this feeling is only getting worse. The chills are so bad I feel like I'm going to drop right out of Jackson's arms.
Jackson peers down at me. “Rest if you need to. I've got you. Everything will be okay, baby.”
Two hours later, the doctors eyes appraise me over a pair of glasses. He flips open his tablet and scans the rest of the small hospital room, his eyes fall on the three huge men taking up most of the space.
In other words, Jackson, Tyrone, and Ricardo. In addition to Momma, who hasn't stopped holding my hand the entire time.
He clears his throat. “Are all these people members of your immediate family, young lady?” Before I can open my mouth, Momma and Jackson shout, “Yes! Now tell us what's wrong.”
The doctor's lips twitch. “I see,” he says before focusing back on his tablet. “Well, my dear, it seems that you have a touch of bronchitis, a touch of an ear infection, and the beginning stages of what looks to be walking pneumonia.”
“Jesus,” Jackson says while sitting up in his chair. “Is she going to be okay?”
The doctor waves his hand. “She'll be fine. She collapsed because the ear infection threw off her equilibrium, her chest hurts because of the bronchitis, and she has chills because of the pneumonia. Luckily, we caught the pneumonia in the beginning stages. A course of antibiotics will clear everything up.”
The doctor pauses and fixes his eyes on me again. “Young lady, might I suggest that you don't go for a jog again in the middle of the night wearing nothing but pajamas while there is ice and rain falling from the sky during the first week of March.”
“Thanks, Tyrone,” I mutter.
He holds up his hands. “Don't 'thanks Tyrone' me. If you don't tell the doctor everything, how is he supposed to be able to diagnose and treat you properly?”
I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the doctor. “So can I go home?”
He shakes his head. “Yes, but not right now. I want to get some fluids in you first. The nurse should be in soon to start an IV. You can go home in the next couple of hours.” He looks at Momma. “But I do want to ensure that she has someone to take care of her for the next few days. I don't want her collapsing again.” He looks back at his tablet and makes a face. “I see that your address is the same address as the bar called “Finnley's'.”
I wonder how he knows that my apartment is at a bar, but before I can ask he says, “My son's a musician who frequents the bar. He's also dating the owner, Shane. Nice guy.”
I give him a smile. “That he is.”
Momma stands up. “Don't worry, Doctor. I will see to it that she gets the very best care.”
She turns to Jackson. “And she won't be staying at no bar. She'll be coming back to the apartment with us.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Jackson cuts me off by saying, “Yes, of course. And you won't be the one taking care of her, Momma. I will.”
Momma smiles and says, “Well, I'm helping. No one makes soup for the soul like I do.”
“It's true,” Tyrone says. “Momma makes the best chicken soup in the world.”
With that, the doctor nods. “ Looks like you'll be in good hands. Here's your prescription. But the nurse will be here in a few moments. She'll give you your first dose of antibiotics and she'll start your IV. After that, you're free to go. Take care.”
I take my prescription and thank him.
Ricardo and Tyrone stand up. “We can run that over to the pharmacy for you if you want.”
“Thanks, guys,” I tell them before they leave.
Momma kisses my forehead. “Well, I have to run to the ladies room. You gonna be okay, sugar?”
“I'll be fine, Momma Thank you.”
When she leaves, Jackson envelopes me in his arms. “Don't scare me like that again.” He closes his eyes. “I swear, my heart stopped.”
I want to kiss him so bad, but I don't want to get him sick. “I'm sorry. I thought I was fine. I hope I don't get you sick.”
“Nah, I'm strong like bull.”
“Thanks for offering to take care of me. But honestly, I'll be fine. I'm sure Shane will check on me.”
“Nope in my bed is where you will be. Where Momma and I can nurse you back to health. Speaking of nurse's...where is she?”
I hear the sound of someone clearing their throat and I look up.
“She's right here,” a woman with long blonde hair, who's wearing pink scrubs informs us curtly.
Jackson makes a face and I know what he's thinking because I'm thinking it too. The nurse looks a lot like me. She's about 10 years older than me, but she has the same build, similar features, my natural hair color, and even the same eye color; although hers are more of a brown hazel rather than green but still, it's eerily similar to mine.
It's like I jumped into a time machine and pressed 'future.' I'm suddenly struck with the feeling of wanting to apologize for any troubles that she might have endured in her nursing career due to my sex tape.
Then I look at her name tag and see the name staring back at me. I almost pass out again.
“Oh, god,” I whisper. Jackson immediately looks concerned.
But I'm too distracted when the nurse gives me a cold smile. “Yup. I'm the woman whose husband you stole. You little adulteress whore.”
The brick on my chest practically caves in with that statement.
Jackson stands up and scowls. ”First off, don't ever call my girl a whore again. Or I'll be lodging a complaint with the hospital. Secondly, I'm positive that Alyssa isn't responsible for whatever problems you have with your husband.”
She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me. “Clearly your new boyfriend knows nothing about who you really are.”
My stomach heaves because as much as I don't like it. This woman is right and I do owe her one hell of an apology for my transgressions. I can't put everything on him.
I open my mouth to start, but Jackson takes a step closer to her. “I don't know who you are, lady. But I do know exactly who she is. Now I'm only going to tell you this once—leave. Because when the sassy Southern woman, otherwise known as my Momma, comes back in here and hears you speaking to Alyssa this way. Trust me, you're going to wish you had.”
I somehow find my voice. “Jackson, stop. She doesn't deserve to be treated like this, she has every right to be furious with me and call me those names. You don't know who she is.”
Jackson's eyebrows shoot up. “Who is she?”
“She's Ford's wife.”