#Fate

by Cambria Hebert

  “It was a joke!” he squeaked. “What about his wrist?”

  “I’ll wait ‘til Katie gets here tonight,” Trent called.

  “I was seriously just joking.”

  “Get new jokes,” B said, pushing him into the hallway, then closing the door in his face.

  Gingerly, Drew settled back against the pillows, exhaustion clinging to his every fiber. I went around to adjust the pillows at his back, going as far as propping up the hand with the IV in it on a pile of blankets.

  When I was done, I took in both sisters with a thoughtful stare. Patting my jeans, not feeling what I was searching for, I glanced up, panicked.

  “Your wallet is with us,” Romeo told me.

  My shoulders slumped in relief. Perking up, I asked, “You find my phone?”

  “No. Drew’s either.”

  “We need new phones,” I informed Drew.

  He shrugged.

  “What do you need your wallet for?” Ivy asked.

  “I want to give you some cash to go buy some decent blankets for this bed.”

  Ivy waved away my words like the offer of money was silly. “We’ll go.”

  Rimmel nodded enthusiastically.

  I picked up the wrinkled, slightly damp shirt. Ivy made a sound of distress and ripped it from my hands. “What is this?”

  “My shirt.”

  “Where did it come from, the trashcan?”

  I shrugged. “It was on the floor.”

  Rimmel and Ivy both made a face. “That’s worse!”

  Romeo and B laughed.

  “You can’t wear this,” Ivy insisted.

  “It’s the only one I have left,” I argued. “You see what happens when I walk around without one.” I smiled slyly. “People can’t control themselves.”

  Drew grumbled, and Rimmel wrinkled her nose. “You smell again. And your hair is starting to look worse than mine.”

  “But, sis, you’re so pretty,” I rebuffed.

  “Because I shower,” she deadpanned.

  Ivy picked up the bag I’d set on the chair and held it out. “Here, we brought some clothes. And shower stuff.”

  Rimmel pointed to the adjoining bathroom without saying anything.

  Romeo chuckled.

  I looked at B for help.

  “You’re ripe.” Then he held up a hand. “So frankly, it’s impressive that fruity nurse still hit on you.”

  “Fruity?” I echoed.

  “Braeden James.” Ivy scolded.

  “If you don’t take a shower, we’re all going to be in trouble.” Braeden accused.

  “We’ll keep Drew company.” Rimmel bobbed her head, the messy bun bouncing.

  Glancing at Drew, he smiled. “Go.”

  Despite the audience, I leaned down, brushed the hair away from his forehead, and kissed it. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait,” Rimmel said when I was almost in the bathroom. When I came back out, she grabbed a coffee cup I hadn’t even noticed Romeo holding and brought it over to me. “Drink this.”

  I stared at it dubiously.

  “It’s the way you normally drink it,” she said.

  I brightened and took it. Before closing myself in the bathroom I turned back to glance at Drew. It was like he was waiting for me to look, because he was already staring in my direction.

  Both of us smiled.

  33

  Drew

  * * *

  I was back there. In the dark where my eyes didn’t see, my mind struggled to understand, and I was prisoner to something I didn’t understand.

  I fought against it, but the darkness clung, making me afraid.

  Screeching metal, crunching gravel, and the unmistakable whoosh of flames consumed me. Unable to see, all I could do was hear the cringe-worthy sounds and feel the intensity of the heat from the fire.

  My lungs seized and pain shot through my chest so forcefully that it lingered along my arms and legs.

  “Drew.” The familiar voice beckoned, shattering the firmest grip panic had on me. “Drew, wake up.”

  My eyes shot open, and I gasped for breath as if I’d been somehow robbed of oxygen. I folded in on myself, clutching my chest. Breath was necessary, but it hurt so much.

  “You’re having a nightmare.” Trent soothed, somehow gathering me in his arms without causing any additional pain. “It was just a dream.”

  Collapsing into him, I let him support all of my weight. I worked on gentling my breathing, trying to assure myself there was plenty of air and I didn’t have to gulp.

  My throat hurt, and the faint smell of smoke lingered in my nostrils. A cough racked my body, and Trent tightened his hold.

  When I grasped his forearm, the IV sticking out of the back of my hand tugged, the sharp pain bringing me fully into reality.

  Tilting my head back, I greedily sought T’s face.

  “You’re okay.” He assured me.

  I believed him.

  Clutching his arm a little tighter, I leaned up, and he met me halfway. Our lips fit together like two halves of the same whole. Neither of us moved. Trent just pushed a little closer, sealing any gap between us and offering up exactly what I needed in the moment.

  When at last I was calm, I pulled away, laying my head against his chest.

  “Do you remember the accident?” T whispered.

  The room was dim. I wasn’t sure of the hour, but it was likely the middle of the night.

  I made a small sound. “Not really. Just…” I paused, trying to put into words the way it made me feel. “Just the fear and confusion.”

  Trent moved, my body going with his, and then a cup with a straw appeared in front of my lips. “Drink this.”

  I obeyed the command, sipping slow and cautious at first, then going back for more.

  “Do you want some pain meds?” he asked once the cup was set aside.

  I shook my head. “I just want you.” Pushing his shoulder so he would lie against the bed, I followed, wanting to wrap myself around him.

  “Forrester.” He stopped me. “Your ribs.”

  “Please, hold me.”

  Even in the dim lighting, I saw his face go soft. His entire big body melted into the bed like salt into a hot fry.

  Mmm, French fries.

  I didn’t ask him to hold me often. If I wanted held, I’d just wrap my arms around him. Asking denoted a certain type of vulnerability… a vulnerability I didn’t realize I shied away from until now.

  Now it seemed important. Or maybe now I was just so vulnerable it was impossible to hide.

  This accident shifted things, made me desire to wield to him. It made me want to cling in ways I would have suppressed before.

  “C’mon, baby.” Trent beckoned, his voice like velvet.

  He held still while I fit myself around him, adjusting so it hurt the least. Once my cheek was against his shoulder and his arm was tucked around my waist, I grabbed the hem of his shirt and shoved it up so the arm draped over his midsection could rest against his exposed skin.

  “I remember,” I whispered, letting his presence sink into me. He was a peaceful guy. Despite knowing how deeply T felt, there was an inner calmness to him that soothed everyone, especially me.

  “You remember what?” he asked, gently caressing my waist with his fingertips.

  “You called me baby after the accident. I heard you. You wanted me to say something. I tried.”

  Trent made a small sound, acknowledging the memory.

  “You’d never called me that before.”

  His fingers paused. “You don’t like it?”

  I pushed closer, ignoring the protest in my middle. “I do.” After a moment, I went on. “I never thought I would. We weren’t really the type to say that stuff.”

  “There’s been a subtle shift between us, Drew. You can feel it too.”

  Against him, I nodded. “I still feel you inside me, T. I’m hungry for you. I’m so fucking hungry.”

  My body wasn’t the only thing left vu
lnerable from the accident. Everything inside me was now too. The pull to Trent was so strong it left me feeling weak. My stomach buzzed from emotion, as if it was trying to digest something impossible to break down.

  No one could break down the love I had for this man, the connection I felt swimming in my veins. Not even death had been able to sever our bond.

  If anything, death only made it stronger.

  The backs of his fingers tipped up my chin. His lips lowered so close that mine moved like we were kissing before he even got there.

  “Baby,” he whispered.

  My heart did a cartwheel, and then I was sinking into his kiss. His lips were gentle and giving but also predatory and claiming. I opened up wider and groaned when his tongue swept in, completely dominating my mouth. With his tongue curling around mine, our lips met again and again. My hand fisted in his shirt while his hand came up to grasp my jaw, holding my face exactly the way he wanted it so he could control the kiss.

  A breath hissed between us.

  I was the possessive one, but now I knew what it was to be possessed. I knew what it was to surrender completely.

  It was strangely liberating, leaving me drunk.

  Or maybe that was his lips.

  Detaching, Trent pushed my face up so he could kiss down my jawline and neck before pulling away.

  “Enough.” His voice was rough. Dragging a thumb over my lower lip, he sighed. “You seriously test my patience.”

  I went in to kiss him again. He let me, then pulled back once more.

  “Lay down.” He urged, gently pushing me into his body.

  I settled against him with a sigh, intoxicated by his presence.

  “No more bad dreams tonight, Forrester,” he commanded. “Sleep peacefully.”

  I did exactly that until nurse Katie came into the room with needles she wanted to stick into my arm.

  “When can I go home?” I grumped, eyeing the kit like it was a bad movie.

  “You’ll have to talk to your doctor about that.” She hedged, setting it aside. “I’m about to go off shift. Patrick is here already if you want me to get him instead.”

  “No,” I said quickly. “Just get it over with.”

  “He’s not a morning person,” Trent told her, amusement obvious in his tone. I slid him a sour glance, and he winked.

  She tied some rubber band around my arm and told me to make a fist. She filled up one tube. Then another one snapped into place.

  “I’m gonna need more blood, frat boy. She’s taking it all,” I muttered, avoiding the needle and looking at him instead.

  Chuckling under his breath, he wrapped his hand around mine. “Anytime.”

  “Finished,” Katie announced brightly, taping a lump of gauze over the hole she’d just put in my arm.

  “Any chance I can get this out?” I asked, holding up my hand with the IV.

  “I can probably arrange that.”

  “Coffee,” I said next. Looking at T, I requested, “Coffee.”

  “I’m not sure if you can—”

  I made a sound, cutting him off. “Frat boy.”

  Trent looked at Katie. “I’ll ask about that too. I would think he can start having some of what he loves. In moderation.”

  My thoughts turned back to the kisses in the middle of the night. How I wanted more of Trent… but not in moderation.

  “You’re blushing.” His voice was deep and secretive against my ear.

  The hair on my arms stood up from the feel and sound of him so close.

  I tried not to smile but failed.

  “How about I change the dressing on your hand before I go?” Katie asked Trent. “Let me see how it looks this morning.”

  He started to shake his head, but I gave him the eye. He sighed and got out of the bed. “That would be great, thanks.”

  It was infected, just as I suspected, and now he was on antibiotics prescribed by my doctor. He had been so focused on me that he gave himself an infection.

  It was awful…

  But also kinda wonderful.

  He loved me that much. As much as I hated his wounds, I loved his love more.

  “Looks pretty good,” Katie announced, quickly changing the dressing. “Keep it covered. Keep it dry.” She glanced at the bandages she’d put on his burns too. “Same with those. I’ll change those when I come in tonight.”

  He was going to have scars. The care he’d refused and the fact he went around with active burn wounds uncovered and ignored for so many days made the healing process more difficult. When they did eventually heal, he would be permanently marked because he’d reached through flames for me.

  Trent didn’t complain, though. Not once. He ignored the injuries as if they weren’t even there. Only once had I seen him favor the injury, and that was when he’d gotten out of the shower last night.

  After promising to ask about my IV, Katie left for the day, leaving me in the care of Patrick and a few others.

  “How come I have the same nurses every day?” I asked Trent.

  “Because I hired them to stay with you.”

  I wasn’t really expecting that. “You did?”

  He nodded. “They were with you in the ICU. They knew your condition from the minute you were brought in. They saw the family who sat in the waiting room for you. And even though you were in a coma, I thought maybe they would be familiar to you. I didn’t want a bunch of unknowns in and out of your room daily.”

  The spit stuck in my suddenly dry throat. He did that for me? “And the security?” I asked, motioning toward the door.

  He nodded. “The press snuck into your room. Got some pics of you…” He cleared his throat and glanced away. “You were in bad shape. It, ah, pissed me off.”

  “You punched him,” I surmised, thinking back to Braeden’s words.

  He shook his head. “No. But I slammed him up against the wall and broke his camera. You don’t need to worry about the pics being leaked online. They’re gone.”

  “I need the bathroom,” I said, starting to push up from the bed.

  Appearing beside me instantly, he wrapped his arms around my upper body and practically pulled me into a sitting position. Then, using one arm, he maneuvered my legs off the side of the mattress.

  “You think you want to try and stand?” he asked, still holding me steady.

  I nodded.

  Making sure the IV pole was out of the way, he practically lifted me onto my feet. Blood rushed to my lower half and a wave of dizziness came over me, tilting everything on its side. I gripped Trent harder, leaning into him a little more.

  “You okay?” he asked, accepting the weight with ease.

  I nodded. “It’s weird.”

  “Just take it slow,” he murmured, adjusting my stupid gown.

  “I want some sweats.” I complained.

  There was a smile in his voice when he replied, “You’re demanding this morning.”

  My eyes met his. “You gonna give me what I want?”

  Golden flecks shimmered back at me. He looked a lot less exhausted this morning. He looked more like the man I loved. “I’ll give you anything you want, and you know it.”

  Desire rose from the bottom of my feet. Against his side, my fingers curled into his shirt.

  The craving in his eyes rivaled mine. A small smile played on his lips. “How about we worry about getting you to the bathroom first?”

  “Cock tease,” I muttered.

  “Just lean on me,” he instructed as he went toward the bathroom.

  The weight of the cast was more than I expected. The weakness in my legs pissed me off, and the way my body trembled with the effort of just going to the bathroom was frankly embarrassing.

  “Fuck,” I muttered when we were almost there.

  Trent stopped walking, giving me a few seconds to catch my breath. The kiss he pressed to my hairline gave me a much-needed boost of energy.

  After I took care of business, Trent basically used his body to support mine at the sink
as he washed my hands for me (taking care not to get the IV dressing wet).

  I stared in the mirror, shocked by the man who stared back.

  My silence unnerved him, and our eyes met in the glass.

  I swallowed. “I don’t look so good.”

  “You look better than you did,” T informed.

  It was hard to assess myself… but it was completely unavoidable. I must have dropped at least ten pounds. My cheekbones were much more prominent. The dark circles under my eyes were fierce, and various yellow bruises dotted my face. There was a cut on my forehead, which appeared to be healing, and one on my cheek.

  My complexion was pale, lips dry. I seemed so much smaller than usual, especially with Trent standing behind me.

  “I need a shower,” I rasped, blinking at the hair that was so long it flipped out against my neck. Trent was right about my beard. It wasn’t the scruff he loved so much. It was full-on grown in.

  “Later,” Trent said, allowing me to take in the damage.

  “What about the stitches?” I asked, turning my head.

  “They’re back here,” he answered, clearing his throat and then motioning to the area. “They, ah, actually shaved a small patch of hair. There was debris from your helmet in your head. They had to pull it out.”

  I winced.

  Gently Trent turned my head, lifting some of the long strands to show me the shaved patch. I couldn’t see all of it, but it was enough. “Guess I’ll leave the hair long until that grows back.”

  He kissed the side of my neck, momentarily making me forget about myself. “Whatever you want.”

  “What’s wrong with my ribs?” I asked, trying to turn to face him.

  Another wave of dizziness caught me, making me stumble. I didn’t fall, though, because he was there, supporting me with ease.

  “They’re broken,” he explained as I lifted my hand to the bandage over my side.

  Untying the gown at my neck, he pulled the thin fabric down so I could see the large binding.

  “This?” I pointed, gazing down. I was practically a watercolor painting of ugly color. Purple, red, yellow… even some green. Fuck. No wonder it hurt so much to move.

  “Your lung collapsed,” Trent explained patiently, gently brushing his knuckles over the bandage. “That’s where the chest tube was inserted.”