“Is it your ribs?” he asked anxiously, pushing up to tug the blankets off me to look at my bare chest.
“What’s with you dudes having no shirts on?” Braeden drawled.
Trent spun, realizing we weren’t alone. “You guys are here?”
“We’re keeping Drew company while you drool all over the place,” Braeden teased.
Trent’s hand flew up to his lips, checking to see if he was indeed drooling. It made me smile. He looked all rumpled, sleepy, and totally confused.
The ache in my chest returned. How could anyone hurt him? How could anyone say such ugly things to this man?
Forgetting about B’s joking, his attention turned back to me. “Do you want me to get the nurse?”
“I’m already here,” Patrick announced, waving.
Trent’s eyes turned back to me. “How long was I out? What’s going on?”
I smiled softly. “You were tired, huh?”
His eyes softened, returning to a sleepy expression. “I guess you were just comfortable.”
Braeden made a sound. “All right. I’m out before I puke. Rome, let’s go get the girls. Ivy’s probably jumping out of her skin to see Drew.”
Romeo glanced at me. “You guys will be good if we head out for a bit?”
I felt Trent assessing us as I nodded. “Yeah. Go.”
They were at the door when I called out to Romeo. When he glanced back, I made a request. “Your dad in town?”
He nodded.
“I want to see him. Gamble too.”
“What’s going on?” Trent asked, immediately alarmed.
Romeo nodded, and he and B left.
“Drew?”
“Everything’s fine.” I assured him, taking in every inch and angle of his face. I’d seen him a million times, but suddenly, it seemed I was looking through new eyes, eyes that had seen him at his lowest moment. Eyes that had stared in the face of death and come back.
Unable to help myself, I reached out with wobbly, weak arms to cup his stubble-covered jaw. “I really fucking love you.”
The edge of his mouth lifted, and a spark of joy lit his hazel eyes. At the same time he started to answer, that dude nurse cleared his throat.
I’d thought he left.
Trent turned. “You need something, Patrick?”
It irritated me the way Trent said his name. Like they knew each other. Like that dude was familiar to him.
“Drew needs to go for those tests.”
“Right,” he replied, standing up from the bed. “The orderlies out there? You need help with the bed?”
Patrick rotated a little more toward him. His eyes lowered.
He was totally checking out Trent!
Oh, hells no!
I made a sound, then coughed. He was there instantly, sliding his arm around my shoulders, staring down with stark concern. “Tell me where it hurts.”
I kissed him.
There was the briefest jolt of surprise, but he recovered with lightning speed, lips softening against mine and kissing me back without hesitation. The familiar hum of sexual tension hummed between us, and my lips clung to his, maybe because they were so dry or maybe because they knew where they belonged.
“It’s better now,” I told him, easing back.
The skin around his eyes crinkled, and I wanted to kiss him all over again.
“Uhh,” Patrick said, “I was going to ask if Mr. Forrester thought he could go in a wheelchair now that he is awake, but—”
“I can do that,” I said, leaning around T. “You wanna go grab one for me?”
“Sure thing.”
The second he was gone, Trent gave me a look.
“Put your shirt on.”
He laughed. “Are you being jealous right now?”
I made a face. “He was checking you out.”
“He knows he’s got no chance.”
“He’s gay?” I practically accused.
Trent nodded.
“I want a new nurse,” I demanded.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
I made a sound that caught in my throat and made me heave. The motion hurt my ribs and made me double into myself.
Trent cursed softly. His skin was smooth, his temperature warm when his arms came around me.
“Easy,” he whispered, gently rubbing my back. “You need to stay calm.”
I didn’t speak because it burned too much when I did and my chest squeezed with pain. Exhaustion swept over me like a heavy blanket, trying to push me into the bed.
“I’ll get you a new nurse, okay?” Trent vowed softly. “I swear to God, I’ve never looked at him as anything other than someone to help you.”
I remembered what Romeo said about Patrick making it possible for Trent to see me.
“No.” My voice was low. “He can stay.” Lifting my eyes to his, I said, “I’m just being an asshole.”
Trent smiled. “I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
The image of him crouching in that dark hallway flashed behind my eyes. “I’m sorry.” My voice cracked on the words.
How would I make this up to him? How could I undo the damage my own parents wrought?
“Hey,” he practically crooned, scooting closer on the bed. He shifted so he could wrap both arms around me, bringing his chest in to hug me carefully.
Not caring if it hurt, I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my nose against his chest.
He felt good. So damn good. All the lingering loneliness and fear clinging to me from when I floated in that dark place shied away from the light he shined on me. My fingertips curled in, clutching his bare back.
“Don’t apologize again. For anything. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I’ll do it. I’ll be it. I’ll get it.”
Turning my face, I laid my cheek against him. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he echoed.
“You’ve been through enough. Possibly more than me.”
He stilled, careful, and pulled back. “What did Romeo say to you?”
“Stuff I needed to know.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, and the muscle in his jaw worked. “He had no business—”
“He’s family. It’s his business.”
Gold flashed in his eyes when they reopened, reminding me of lightning.
“Frat boy.” I began. The door to the room opened, and I wanted to scream.
“Found you a ride,” Patrick declared, pushing in the empty wheelchair.
“Put your shirt on,” I grumped.
Suppressing a smile, Trent stood and dutifully pulled on the shirt. It was one of mine.
“We’ll get you up slowly, and if it ever feels like too much, just say the word.”
I was ready to get out of this bed. I wanted to move. I wanted to see how rusty my body was, how much strength I’d lost while lying here.
Patrick came forward to help me, but Trent intercepted him. “I’ll do it.”
Once the sling propping up my leg was down and the IV pole was beside the chair, Trent helped me sit up.
A wave of dizziness swept over me, and I could feel my heartbeat in my skull. Feeling winded just from sitting up, I closed my eyes and hid my face against his shoulder.
“Maybe this is too much,” Trent said over my head to the nurse.
“No. I’m good.” I lifted my head. “Let’s do this.”
Reluctantly and at the pace of a pregnant turtle, Trent helped me stand. Well, I was upright. Can’t really say I stood, because he supported almost all of my weight.
My muscles stretched and pulled with the new position, and some of me trembled with effort.
Once I was sitting in the wheelchair, I was breathing slightly heavy.
Trent crouched near my feet, putting the cast up onto the footrest. I caught his hand before he could stand. “We’re going to talk later.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” He promised.
“Shall we?” Patrick asked cheerfully.
�
��I’ll push,” Trent offered, moving to the back of the chair. “You grab the IV pole.”
The trip down to wherever the hell we were going was quiet, and when the time came for T and me to separate, he knelt in front of me again. “I love you.”
“More than French fries.” I finished.
He kissed the top of my head and stepped back.
“You two are cute AF,” Patrick crooned.
I would have rolled my eyes, but it would just make my head hurt worse.
“Hey, frat boy,” I called when Patrick wheeled me away.
“Just say it,” he said, holding out his arms like he was offering up the universe.
“Don’t go punch Romeo.”
He pursed his lips, suspicious that I knew exactly what he was thinking.
“He only did what he thought was best.”
After a minute, Trent lowered his arms and nodded. “All right, Forrester. If that’s what you want.”
“First time I’ve ever seen him give in to anyone,” Patrick murmured as we went.
I shrugged. “He’s mine.”
“You’re lucky.”
I made a sound, acknowledging his words. I thought about making sure he knew not to bother making a play for my guy. But I didn’t bother. Some things I didn’t even need to say. Besides, I was too fucking tired. I needed to save my strength for the people who really were a threat to me and Trent.
30
Trent
* * *
It was probably a good thing Romeo and Braeden left the hospital. It made it easier to keep the promise I’d just made to Drew.
I really did want to punch Romeo. He shouldn’t have said anything to Drew. At least not right now. He was in a precarious state. He was fragile. I didn’t want anything getting in the way of his recovery.
With the fam not here, Drew’s parents in the waiting room, and his nurses changing the sheets on his bed, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself while I waited. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t buried under crushing grief and anxiety. Still, the aftereffects weren’t easy to shake. And just because Drew was finally awake didn’t mean everything was back to “normal.”
Whatever the fuck normal was.
But right now, it seemed okay to give myself a couple minutes of chill.
Familiar crying echoed down the hall. My little peanut was pissed off again.
No. Not pissed off. Withdrawing from a drug addiction she didn’t choose.
That pissed me off.
I wasn’t the kind to judge. I’d been judged too much in my own life to be inclined to do it to others. But this was a kid, man. A baby.
A helpless, innocent life. I knew addiction was a disease. It wasn’t simple to overcome. But why? Why in God’s name would anyone do that to a child?
Without hesitation, I went down the hall to the wailing peanut. I wasn’t sure if the same nurse was still on shift, but the least I could do was peek in and see if she was okay.
The bassinet she lay in was still in the corner of the nursery. What I assumed was the heat lamp was switched on above her, but she didn’t seem too happy about it.
The other two babies I’d seen before weren’t there, and she was completely alone. I didn’t like that. At all.
My hand closed around the handle of the nursery entrance, but before I could open the door, someone spoke behind me.
“Who are you?”
I turned.
A nurse in purple scrubs stood there. Her long hair was pulled back into some kind of braid. When our eyes met, hers lit up with recognition. “Trent, right?”
I nodded. “How’d you know?”
“Sam told me about you.”
“Sam?” I questioned, drawing a blank.
“The nurse who was here before.”
I nodded, realizing who she meant. “Right.” Glancing through the door, I gestured toward the baby. “I heard her crying again.”
“Go ahead,” she offered.
Surprise made my eyes widen. “Really?”
She nodded. “Sam says Jane likes you a lot.”
“Jane,” I echoed. “That’s her name?”
“Not really. It’s just what we put on her bracelet. Jane Doe.”
No parents. No name. She was completely alone.
Going directly to the bassinet, I didn’t hesitate to reach down and scoop her up. “You have something against blankets?” I asked, pulling her against my chest. “You probably wouldn’t be so cold if you stopped kicking them off.”
Peanut cried angrily, her body trembling mightily.
“All right now.” I cajoled gently. “I get it. That blanket is stupid anyway.”
She felt tiny and fragile in my arms. I worried she would break if I held her too hard, yet at the same time, the urge to hug her tightly was fierce. The hat on her head was gone. She probably managed to get rid of it too. The downy hair on her head was nearly black and perfectly straight.
Sitting down in the same rocker as before, I cupped the back of her head and pulled her away from my chest so I could get a good look at her.
She fussed and cried; her face flushed with anger. I frowned, seeing a scrape across her cheek. That hadn’t been there before.
“What happened to her face?”
The nurse came around to look down. “Ah, looks like she scratched herself. Babies do that sometimes. She’s very active with the tremors and shakes, so that probably happened.”
Making a sound, I tucked the baby back into my chest, holding her tiny head against me with my palm. My hand was bigger than her skull.
“Can I have a blanket?” I requested.
The nurse handed over another scratchy, lame blanket with the same generic pink and blue stripes that her lost hat had.
“Isn’t there any other way to calm her down?”
“She’s not due for her next dose of medication for another hour,” the nurse said, checking her chart.
“What medication?”
“Methadone.”
“What the hell are you giving her that for?” I demanded. My harsh tone made Peanut cry more. “All right now. I’m sorry,” I apologized, rocking her a little more.
“It’s so she doesn’t have to go cold turkey into withdrawal. It actually helps lessen her symptoms.”
“Where’s her mother now?” I grumped, knowing the woman probably had a body full of demons but angry with her just the same.
She shifted uncomfortably. “She died of an overdose shortly after giving birth.”
“And she just left her here?” I pressed, wanting answers.
The nurse didn’t answer right away. Instead, she watched me with the baby for a minute. “You know, skin-to-skin contact might calm her.”
“What?”
“If you take off your shirt and let her lie against your bare chest, she might calm down.”
With Peanut in the nurse’s arms, I pulled the T-shirt over my head, tossing it on the arm of the chair. Taking the baby back, I laid her against my chest, patting her back.
She squirmed and fussed but then surprisingly calmed.
The nurse smiled. “Sam was right. She likes you.”
My heart squeezed a little, making me glance down. Her arm was still swinging wildly, and I worried she might scratch her face again. Gently, I pinned it down at her side while rubbing her tiny back.
The door to the nursery burst in, and a blur of movement low to the ground whirled by.
“That’s my sister!” a small, yet strangely fierce voice bellowed. A small fist pummeled against my thigh. “Let her go!”
“Whoa,” I mused. “Who’s this?”
A boy with dark hair and equally dark eyes looked up, his face pinched in anger. “That’s my sister! Put her down!”
“This is Travis,” the nurse said before turning her attention to the boy. “We know she’s your sister,” she said, mildly amused, and leaned down. “She was crying, so he picked her up.”
“She’s not crying now!
” the boy insisted, glaring at me.
I half smiled. “‘Cause she likes me.”
“She likes me more!”
Taking a seat in the chair, I invited him closer. “Come say hi to her.”
Travis came closer, coming around so he could stare intently into the baby’s face. She was calm now, but upon glancing down, I saw her eyes were focused on the little boy who so fiercely barged in to protect her.
“She likes you too,” I told him.
Travis reached out and touched the baby’s cheek with his finger. Then he looked up. “She’s mine,” he told me.
His hair was overly long and cut unevenly. One side shagged over his ear, and the other looked as though it was cut just above it. He was tall and thin. The clothes he wore were too short and appeared worn.
“This is your sister?” I asked, keeping my voice low and soothing.
He nodded.
A woman poked her head into the nursery. She looked harried and tired. “Travis! I told you not to run off.”
“I want my sister,” he announced.
“I’m sorry, Mary,” the woman said, not coming farther into the room. “He wouldn’t stop asking to come here. He’s quite the little troublemaker.” The woman gave the boy a hard look.
He turned away from her and looked at his sister again.
“He can see her for a while.” Mary agreed.
“I’ll just go sit in the waiting room. I’m exhausted,” the woman said, barely sparing a glance at me before retreating.
She didn’t wonder who I was? Who she was leaving around this kid?
“That your mom?” I asked.
“No!” he yelled. “She’s mean!”
Peanut fussed at his outburst, and he reached out to pat her back. “Don’t worry. I won’t let her be mean to you too.”
My heart summersaulted. Such fierce loyalty for such a young age.
“How old are you?” I asked him.
“I’m five,” he told me proudly. His dark eyes were slanted, and I wondered if he was part Asian. Glancing back down at Peanut, I noticed she, too, had the same look as her brother.
“And your name is Travis?”
He nodded.
“My name starts with a T too. I’m Trent.”
“Are you going to take my sister away?” he asked, lower lip wobbling.
#Fate Page 16
