“Are you sure you're ready for this?” Jake asked, looking down at me with unconcealed doubt.
“The sooner she's up and around, the sooner she'll feel better,” Carter argued. “Besides, she wants to see the baby.”
“I know she wants to see the baby,” Jake protested. “But she just had brain surgery. She almost died. I don't want her taking it too fast.”
“She’ll be in a wheelchair,” Paisley pointed out, trying to mediate. Jake and Carter were still at odds, and I was in no condition to step between them. “And I hate to say it, Jake, but Carter’s right. The sooner she’s up and about, the sooner she’ll recoup. You heard the doctors yourself. She’s progressing with flying colors.”
“She really hates it when people talk about her like she’s not sitting right here,” I groused.
“Never underestimate the miracle of a bond between a child and its mother,” Paisley pressed. “Seriously. It’s proven. Ok, I don’t know about proven, but it’s widely believed.”
Jake shook his head, giving up. His eyes met mine in disapproval. “Go ahead. Do what you want. You’ve never listened to me yet.”
“You’re an asshole,” Carter scoffed. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Me?” Jake retorted, his back going stiff.
“Jake,” Paisley warned. “This isn’t the time or place.”
The two eyed each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, Jake shook his head and walked out. “I’ll be back. Going to see Tate and Coop.”
Paisley stole a sigh of relief and approached the bed. “He’ll come around. I think.”
“We talking about the same Jake?” I wondered. Jake never strayed far from his convictions.
“He’s worried about you, Mattie. He’s helped your gram raise you. It’s hard to be your brother after filling in for your parents for as long as he has.”
The point was moot. The damage was done. It wasn’t like I could take it back. Nor could he blame Carter for the accident.
“I'm going to go visit Coop before she leaves. See if she needs anything. They're taking the babies home today.” They had twin girls, with oodles of Tate’s dark hair.
“Give them my congratulations.” I wish they could take me home today. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure I could even walk. Don’t get me wrong, I could feel my legs. I just wasn’t sure my brain was going to send the right signals.
“Sure.” Managing a smile, Paisley squeezed my hand. “I'll let the nurse know you're ready on my way out.” My enthusiasm must’ve showed, because Paisley’s smile widened. “You’ll do fine. Jake’s right; you’re a fighter.”
“At least if I fall, everyone will get a good show.”
“It’s true, Carter is the holiest of all asses,” Paisley said, glancing wryly in his direction, “but I don’t think he’d let you, of all people, fall.”
Sleep. Yep, I needed more sleep. Not my brother’s girlfriend slipping obscure hints about Carter’s alleged feelings toward me. I’d finally made a sound decision not to ruin my life or his more than I already had. I didn’t need anyone trying to patch together a relationship that never existed outside my own deluded mind. Pinching my eyes shut, I feigned a yawn.
“If we don’t see you in maternity, we’ll come see you before we leave.”
“Just give me a sec to f-freshen up. I’ll be right there.” I was going for sarcasm, but it came out dull as a butter knife.
“Good luck, Carter.” I cracked my eyes open as Paisley left the room. I liked her, especially her fiery red hair. And she knew how to handle Jake. That was saying something. On that note, I was glad she wasn’t my nurse. If she could handle Jake, she’d tear me to pieces.
“Mattie.”
“I know, right? I’m the one with the brain injury, and she can’t get my name s-s-straight.”
Staring down at me, Carter lifted a brow.
“What? It's my brain injury.” I gestured pointedly to my head. “I’m allowed t-to make f-fun of myself.”
“Maybe Jake’s right. You’re taking this too fast.”
He had no idea how right he was, and not just about my recovery. “Shut up. You don’t need t-to s-s-stay here, you know. You’re just going t-to be in the way.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Carter.”
Placing his hands on the rail of the bed, Carter leaned over, looking me in the eye. I pressed my head further into the pillow. It was all I could do to back away. “Your gram had a funny way of looking at things. In fact, she really pissed me off. To suggest there was some higher purpose to placing you in this bed, and nearly taking the baby…” Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “But the more I thought about it, I figured it was just her way of coping.”
Opening his eyes again, Carter pinned me with a stare so dark, it caused my heart to race and memories to surface. For a brief moment, I was in his arms again, his jaw set as his hips rocked against me. Lord, how I’d wanted to believe he’d felt something, and I wasn’t talking about the heat of my vajayjay wrapped around his cock. But as a slow smile spread across his face, I knew that wasn’t the case. Carter was as shallow as a puddle of piss on concrete.
“Now,” Carter drawled, gathering my attention. “I think she might’ve had a point. You got your space, Angel, not that I had a choice. I say turnabout is fair play, don’t you? The way I figure it, you can’t run from me here. There’s no way I’m not taking advantage of that.”
“That’s not f-f-fair!” Turning my head, I blinked back tears. I didn’t even have the dignity of arguing on even ground. I was a fucking invalid. That wasn’t fair.
“I'm just saying, this hospital is like neutral ground,” Carter amended, his voice softening. “Let me help you get better. Jake doesn't know what it's like to be in your shoes right now. I do. I know how hard to push you and when to let up. I've been there. And when you're ready to go home, I'll give you your space if that's what you want.”
“Go home, Carter.” I wanted his pity like I wanted a headache. Which I already had, incidentally. Neither would go away.
Carter sucked a sharp breath in preparation of a glib retort, but fell short when one of my nurses entered the room. As his attention turned to the nurse, his expression warned our conversation wasn’t over.
Rounding the bed, the nurse began pushing buttons on one of the many monitors. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but your heart monitor is going berserk.”
“Sorry,” I said, though I wasn’t at fault. Carter had that effect on me.
“That’s ok. It’s coming off anyhow. Paisley said you were ready to get out of bed.” Gently grasping my hand, she began removing the various wires from the electrodes on my chest. Her nametag read Jacqueline.
“I’m going t-to t-try. Don’t know how f-f-far I’ll get.”
“Baby steps, sweetheart. First, you sit up. Then you stand. Then you make it from the bed to the bathroom,” the nurse explained. “Once you reach the shower, there’s a seat inside in case you’re too tired to stand. I’ll be here every step of the way to help you.”
Finished with the wires across my upper torso, she turned to face Carter. “Now might be a good time for your friend to stretch his legs and get himself a coffee.”
“I’m fine.”
Used to the idiocy known as the male gender, she rolled her eyes. “I’m going to remove her cath and discuss postnatal care.”
Caving, Carter jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be right outside.”
“No matter how concerned they are when you're sick,” Jacqueline laughed, “they always run for the hills when it comes to postnatal care.”
“He’s just a f-friend.”
“Close friend.”
“Actually, I was being generous.”
“Maybe. But he hasn’t left the hospital since you were admitted. Showers here and everything. Every morning, one or another of his friends brings him a change of clothes. Today was the broody one with the brunette girlfriend. We like her. She brings food.”
“Isn’t there some kind of oath that you t-t-take t-to respect a patient’s privacy?”
“Technically, it says we have to maintain confidence in all personal matters. Meaning, we can’t repeat anything you tell us.”
“Said Kevin Squeaks t-to Whitey Bulger.” If that woman thought she was the first person looking to score dirt on the band, she was sadly mistaken. All my life I had to deal with ‘friends’ asking me about the guys. Being the little sister to a band member had its perks, but it also had its downfalls.
“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to make an uncomfortable situation more comfortable by striking up a conversation. We can talk about the weather if that makes you happy.”
It didn’t help. I think she yanked the rubber tube out of my hoo-ha as if she were pull-starting my adrenaline.
A few minutes later, I was sitting up in bed for the first time in weeks, albeit a little woozily. Beside me, I clutched the sheets, tethering myself to the mattress.
“Are you ok?” Jacqueline asked. She stood an arm’s distance away in case I fell.
“I’m not going to f-fall if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s exactly what I mean. The doctors can’t always put Humpty back together again.”
I was acutely aware of how fragile life was. Haris was dead. My little speech impediment was relatively minor to what he lost. The reminder clawed at me like a ravening beast, feeding off the fresh stream of regret with laps of its razor-sharp tongue.
I felt raw and exposed, while heavy. So fucking heavy. Every thought weighed on me, threatening to drag me back under. So many mistakes. Mouthing off to Amanda Keller. Sleeping with Carter. Hiding my pregnancy from him. Haris. Jesus…Haris. Dead.
I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he died protecting me. I didn’t want to be cliché or narcissistic, but I couldn’t help feeling guilty. I wasn’t saying I was responsible for his death, but I should’ve loved him more. I felt crooked and deceitful. Like I'd used him.
“I know,” Jacqueline assured. “It can be overwhelming.”
She had no fucking idea.
“We can wait a little bit if you’re not ready.”
“I’m f-fine.” Steeling myself, I inched toward the edge of the bed, and grasped the rail. I was done crying. “Carter!”
Cautiously, Carter stepped into the room.
“Get your camera out. You’re going t-t-to document this, so when we’re sitting in that courtroom, we’ll know that f-fucker’s going away f-f-for life.”
A cocky smile spread across Carter’s face. He slid his phone from his back pocket. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yeah.”
Jacqueline pushed a walker in front of me, and moved to stand at my side. “Slowly. Hold onto the walker. Test your balance first.”
My toes touched the floor. The surface was cool, but not sleek enough to raise any concerns that I’d slip and fall. I hesitated, testing my legs before placing my full weight on them. Curling my fingers around the handles of the walker, I held tightly. My body trembled, weak and powerless after weeks of disuse. “I think I’m exhausted already.”
“It’ll take time, but eventually, everything will go back to normal.”
“I’ll never t-t-take walking for granted again. That’s f-for sure.” Lifting my foot, I took one brave but tiny step toward the bathroom. My leg seemed twice as heavy as usual. The second step felt like I was wading through mud. The third, I’d swear I had physical balls and chains tethered to my ankles.
“Where’re you going, Angel?” Carter inquired, still filming.
“T-t-to the bathroom. Why?”
“You’re aiming a few feet shy to the left.” Taking a step toward me, he lowered the camera.
Jacqueline held up her hand. “Wait. Let her correct herself.”
Blinking, I looked again. There were two doors. They gaped back at me like a dark set of eyes. The room spun. “Whoa.”
“What is it?”
“There’s t-two of everything.” Closing my eyes, I took a measured breath, and then opened them again. Everything was back to normal.
“Do you want to have a seat?” She didn’t sound unconcerned, but almost rehearsed. As if she’d asked the question a thousand times. Her tone was calm. She was inured to the nervousness of her patients, and remained calm under pressure. A patient could come in sprouting blood from their carotid artery like a water fountain and the woman would barely break a sweat.
“No, I’m f-f-fine. It passed.”
“It’s not uncommon to have dizziness, but if you have double vision again, let me know, especially if it lasts longer than a few seconds.”
“You’ll be the f-first t-to know.” Glancing at the door again, I slid the walker to the right and took another step toward the bathroom. The whole event was surreal, as if walking in a stranger’s shoes. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t this weak or ailing. I was strong. I was a fighter.
I was both, I was suddenly realizing. By the time I reached the bathroom, I was discovering new aches and pains with every step I took. My back and neck were as stiff as a board. My aorta seemed to have taken up residence in my skull. I had cramps. My breasts felt like lead weights. And my right side had a stitch. Or more of a fist, with large knuckles pressing into my ribs. Over. And over. And over.
Yet, despite all the trials I was facing, nothing had prepared me for what I met in the mirror. The entire right side of my head was shaved. All except for a thick row above my ear. In the center, a circular, puckered scar proved just how extensive my injuries were.
My face was sallow with patches of green along my eye socket. The bridge of my nose had a small scab. My lips were dry and my hair was a hideous mess of knots. No amount of hot water was going to provide the help I needed. I needed a fucking miracle. An act of God.
“Your sutures were removed while you were unconscious.” Stepping into the bathroom with me, Jacqueline started up the shower and retrieved two towels from the rack above the toilet. “There’re ointments that can help reduce the scaring. Massage helps too.”
“Do you have scissors?”
“Scissors?”
“I have a t-tonsure on the side of my head.” Looking in the mirror, my nose scrunched up in distaste.
“A tonsure?”
“This little row of hair—what’s the point of leaving that?” Grabbing the offending row of hair, I tucked it behind my ear. “It’s like a monk’s head. I have a monk’s head, but on the side.”
“We don’t have barber shears. Utility scissors and office scissors, maybe. I don’t think you’d want to use them on your hair.”
Staring in the mirror, my gaze roamed downward. I’d lost weight. Drastically. The swelling had subsided. Except the extra baby weight at my waist, I looked sunken. I felt hollow. Empty. My appearance fell to the background. I had much more important things to worry about.
“Never mind.” Grasping the sink, I pushed the walker aside. There was a new toothbrush and a travel size toothpaste resting inside an empty plastic cup. I grabbed the toothbrush and pushed the handle through the plastic wrapper. “I’d like to go t-to the nursery and see the baby. My hair can wait.”
Jacqueline pushed the walker out of the bathroom, stopping just outside the door. “I’ll be right outside the door. If you need anything, just shout.”
Over the hiss of water, I could hear Jacqueline and Carter’s voices. Although, I could barely make out what they were saying. Only a few select words. Hormones. Injuries. Mood swings. Irritability. Their conversation continued as another wave of double vision obscured my view. A string of toothpaste missed the bristles of my brush and landed in the basin.
“Damnit!”
Behind me, the door cracked open. “Angel?”
“I’m f-fine.” Cupping my palm full of water, I washed the toothpaste down the drain. “Do you mind?”
Ignoring my objection, Carter leaned against the door jamb. “Actually, I’m not supposed to leave you alone.”
“Where’s the nurse?”
“She just left to get you a wheelchair.”
“I don’t want you in here. Get out.”
“Such manners coming from the mother of my child.”
Glancing up, I met his gaze in the mirror. “That was a mistake. You said so yourself.”
“What about all that stuff you said to me?”
That stuff. I was in love with him. I always had been. Always would. I’d said much more, but I didn’t care to repeat it. Not when he disregarded it so easily. “I moved on.”
“So, you’re over me.”
“I didn’t say that.” I’d never get over him. I’d always heard that held true for first loves. I suppose I was no different.
“Then what’s the problem?” Pushing off the wall, he stepped into the bathroom and boxed me against the sink. I had nowhere to go, except to turn and face him. Big mistake. Averting my gaze, I let my eyes fall to his chin. His lips were soft and full. His jaw, shadowed with a few days’ growth. Not good. Not good at all.
“Carter, I-I-I just lost Haris. And even if that wasn’t the only obstacle between us, I’d still say this isn’t the t-time. I haven’t showered in almost t-two weeks. I’m wearing a pad the size of a t-travel pillow. I think I have a urinary t-tract infection from that t-tube they just yanked out of me.”
“Is that all?”
“I hate you,” I tossed in. Because I didn’t like being cornered, I dropped my head and bit his chest. It wasn’t a flirting nibble. It was all teeth and clench.
Bellowing, Carter jumped back in shock. “What the fuck! You bit me! I can’t believe you just fuckin’ bit me!”
“Good! Remember that!” I warned, raising my chin in the air. “I might look like I’ve been run over, backed over, and run over again, but I won’t be bullied into something I don’t want because you feel sorry for me! You want to pity someone, go downstairs t-t-to the children’s ward where they haven’t seen your t-t-true colors! Cause I have, and I’m not impressed anymore!”
Fired up, Carter lifted his hand and pointed a finger at me. His eyes were slivered. His pearly whites bared in frustration. “You have no fuckin’ id—”
Behind him, Jacqueline cleared her throat, cutting him short. She wore a frown, obviously displeased with the maltreatment her patient was receiving in her absence.
Undeterred, Carter stole back the space I’d just won. In one smooth motion, he cupped his hand around my nape and crushed his lips to mine.
Naturally a fighter, I shoved my hands against his chest, but as Carter deepened the kiss, the protest bled out of me. My head tilted back. My fingers curled against his chest. This was what I wanted, what I’d waited for all these years. This…irrefutable…heady desire. I felt breathless, wound up, surreal. Any moment now, I was going to wake up.
Except, I didn't want to wake up.
This was no average kiss. It had emotion and need. It was desperate, demanding, conveying where words had failed. If I didn’t know better, I'd think he wanted me. But I'd been kissed like this before. I knew better now. I wasn’t about to be a road gig, not even for Carter Strickland. Not again.
Breaking the kiss, he stared down at me, daring me to refute his claims. “Did that feel like I was pitying you?”
Yes, I dared. I was stubborn like that. “What? Am I supposed t-t-to believe it means something this t-t-time?”
Carter’s mouth popped open in shock. “Why is that so fuckin’ hard to believe?”
“Because you pushed me out of the car, Carter!”
“I panicked! How many times do I have to say it? I panicked!”
My eyes narrowed, my temper flaring. I was on a short fuse. “F-for someone who was in a panic, you certainly didn’t have any t-t-trouble knocking me up!”
“That’s not fair! But then none of this was fair. You’ve had all the time in the world to realize you were in love with me. Yet, I get ten minutes to return the sentiment!”
“I hate t-to t-t-tell you,” I seethed, “but it only lasted five!”
Carter’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Go ahead and crack jokes, Angel, but I'm catching up real quick. I’ve had nearly eight damn months to sweat over what happened between us that morning. And you know what—I’m not sweating anymore.”
Reminding us of her presence, Jacqueline cleared her throat again.
Carter shifted his weight, staring down at me.
I stared back, my jaw set in a firm line.
Neither of us moved.
“Since you’re at an impasse, perhaps now is a good time to take a step back,” Jacqueline suggested. “A little time apart might do you both good. You can clear your heads.”
That, I seriously doubted. Carter wasn’t known for his rationality. He was hotheaded and sharp-tongued. When he had an opinion, he let it be known.
“Or I can call security,” Jacqueline pressed. “You’re disturbing my patient’s peace. Have it whichever way you like.”
Grimacing, Carter turned on his heel and stepped out of the bathroom. “I thought we were friends, Jacqueline. I’m hurt.”
“Unfortunately, my patient comes first.”
“Then maybe you can talk some sense into her. Nothing I’ve said is getting through that thick head of hers. I think the doctors screwed up and used lead instead of titanium when he put that plate in there.”
“Sweetheart,” said Jacqueline, turning to me. “You should’ve fallen for a nice country singer. Their mommas teach them manners.”
“That’s cold,” Carter complained. “Just cold.”
“Cause rock music’s not my thing?”
“Cause my mom’s dead.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. My apologies. But you still have to leave.”
“Not an ounce of remorse,” Carter observed. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
“Go,” Jacqueline insisted. “Now.”
Pouting, Carter acquiesced and ambled toward the door. “This isn’t over. Neither of you. I’m not leaving. I’ll be right outside the door.”
“You should’ve just called security,” I said, stepping out of my hospital gown and into the shower. “It would’ve been much easier than dealing with him.”
She waved off my warning like a wayward thought. “Nah, he’s a good guy.”
“Humph.”
“Come on. You have to admit he has a point.”
“What?” I choked, my mouth popping open.
“Men are slow, emotionally. You have to give them a chance to catch up.”
“I resent that entirely,” Carter said from the hall. “But I'll let it slide because it's in my favor. You should listen to her, Angel. She has a point.”
Jacqueline rolled her eyes and depressed the call button. “Can I get security up here, please. I have a code ID-10-T, that's code ID-10-T. Stat.”
“That's so not cool,” Carter griped as he stalked off.
“What's an ID-10-T?” I inquired.
“Idiot.”