“So you’ll cancel?”
“Right after we get off the phone.”
“Okay.” My shoulders relax. “We’re good.”
He says, more slowly, “She said you got shot. That true?”
Exhaling deeply, I’m wishing I could escape this room and this explanation. Tommy is not one I confide in. Ever. “Yeah. I got robbed. I’m fine.”
There’s rustling of fabric as he shifts around on the other side of the phone. “Huh. Do you know who did it?”
I close my eyes and hold my fingers to the bridge of my nose, tired and annoyed. “Nah. No fingerprints at the bar. Blah blah blah. But if I ever find the guy, I’m going to kill him myself.”
Tommy chuckles.
“What?”
He laughs, more freely, then stops. “You don’t have it in you.” It sounds like a challenge.
“Yeah? Watch me.”
We sit here, neither of us speaking again. The awkward silences between us are always long and many. As always, he backs down first. “I’ll see you ‘round, Brendan. You take care now.”
“Bye.”
I hit the end-call button and dial Mark’s number immediately.
The difference between the two calls is like night to noon. “Tell me you ran off to Vegas and got married.”
Grinning, I walk back and forth a couple times, getting used to mobility, the cord of the IV trailing behind me. “I did. I’m married and we’re already expecting a baby. Will you please be the Godfather, oh Mark, you asshole you?”
He laughs. “Okay, so, you have fun? Are you at her place?”
“No. I’m in the hospital. I got shot.”
There’s a heavy pause on the other end of the line. “What?”
“I got shot. We got robbed that night. I’ve been in the SF General this whole time.”
His voice changes completely. “Are you serious, B?”
“Dead serious. Are you back home?”
“Just got in. What room are you in?”
“323.”
Without saying anything more, he hangs up. With the call over, I look at my phone and consider calling everyone else back, checking in with work, all that. But I decide not to and tuck it into my jacket again, then sit on the edge bed. I feel better. Stronger. The wound is doing alright, slowly beginning to heal, and it’s not infected, so this is just a matter of time now. I want to take it easy, but I’m going to push myself when I feel I can, make sure I don’t go soft. And thank God I’m not drugged up as I was on day one and two.
A knock at the door sounds and Annie peeks toward the bed, her long hair falling softly in front of her as she leans in. She sees me sitting here, my feet bare on the tile, and her eyes light up. “Oh! I wasn’t sure if you’d be sleeping.”
The prophecy Rebecca left lingering behind her, like poisonous fumes, is all around me as I watch Annie’s smile. “Hey. Come in.”
Wearing office-style clothes and looking very graceful and beautiful, she walks in with mischievous eyes. “It’s after visiting hours, but I told them I’m your sister.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brendan
I laugh and wince a little at the tugging of my skin. “Ouch.”
“Sorry. I’ll try to be less funny.”
“No! I need it. I need to laugh.” We share a look we both understand. I rise up, my hand held over the area of my wound. Again comes the feeling that she’s the only one who gets it, because we went through this together. It’s bonded us. Maybe that’s what Rebecca saw. Maybe that’s what this feeling is. Maybe it’s just the connection two people have when they’ve been in a life-threatening situation, like survivors in an airplane wreck, or a bombing; that’s probably it.
So I let my guard down.
“Tell me what it’s like to be out there in the real world.” I walk back to get in the bed. She doesn’t help me, which I appreciate. I can see she’s watching me closely, so the restraint is on purpose. That’s very interesting. Does she know I want to do this on my own?
“Well, I went to the police station and gave them the report.”
Lowering myself as normally as I can, I throw my legs up, trying to act like I’m not in pain. “Oh yeah? I’ve never been down there. What’s it like?”
“It looked just like the station on Law & Order. They must have researched those places for the show,” she says, matter-of-factly as she watches me to pull the blanket up. “Oh, covering up those legs. What a shame.”
I chuckle and hold the blanket up for one last gander. “Look at that, huh? What do you think?”
“Perfection.” She grins and continues, “It was pretty much a carbon copy without the good lighting and makeup people prettying all the cops up.” She walks over and puts her purse down next to my jacket, a little bounce in her step. My eyes are on her shape, how those black slacks over her curves remind of a cello. I’m about to tell her this, when I see her eyes change.
“Oh, you got your jacket back.”
“Yeah, Rebecca brought it to me.”
I watch Annie’s expression closely to see how she reacts. I’m fully expecting prying. But she turns and walks to sit on the bed next to my hip, laying her hand on my thigh with a comfortable, light pressure as she moves her hair away, over her shoulder. She looks down at her hand on mine and says nothing about Rebecca. The soft warmth of her skin feels good. And when she looks up, even though I’m looking hard for one, there’s no plan behind her pretty blue eyes. She’s just gazing at me. It’s unusual, this behavior, and I’m not sure what to do with it, so I stay silent and hold the look. A part of me wants to glance away, like it’s too much, but I breathe in and out and stay where I am, to see if I even can. There’s something raw going on down deep in my gut. I feel excited now that she’s here. It’s impossible to deny, though I’m giving it my best shot.
“They said there haven’t been any other robberies like that in the neighborhood, so that’s good,” she says, quietly.
“Ah,” is all I can say with her eyes on me like this.
“Tell me about you, Brendan.” She looks down at my leg and runs her fingertips slowly from my knee up to my hip. She stops, and then runs it back down to the middle of my thigh.
“What do you want to know?”
Her eyelashes fall as she bites her lip and looks at my chest. “Everything.” A playful smile spreads her pink lips. I want to suck on them so badly that I almost launch myself forward to do it.
I’ve got on a fixed stare that’s taking in everything she does and when she glances up, I say, “Probably should narrow it down a tad.”
“Okay. Probably a good idea.” Her eyes focus on my lips, too. “Steak or burgers?”
Feeling a pull down below, I smile at the simplicity of the question. “Depends. On the weekends, burgers. If I’m on a date, it’s probably steak. To impress her.”
Annie’s pretty white teeth flash, and she bites her lip again, covering her smile to answer seriously, “I’m impressed by burgers.”
My eyebrows go up. “Never in for a good steak?”
Her eyelashes whisk to the wall and then back again as she shrugs one shoulder. “Sometimes, sure. But I think the company is better than the place. Make sense?”
“Total sense.” I glance to her hand and reach over to pick it up and hold it. She wiggles her fingers out to run them up from the base of my palm to the very tips of my fingers, tickling me with her light touch. “That feels good,” I murmur, arousal pulling at me, filling me up.
She looks over from the corners of her eyes. “Michael Keaton Batman or Christian Bale Batman?”
I suck in a deep breath through my teeth. “That’s tough. But…Michael Keaton Batman.”
She turns her head, surprised. “Really? Me too.”
Our palms come together, like in prayer. “Okay, my turn.”
“No.” She shakes her head and looks at our hands, watching me weave our fingers together. “This is my game. Don’t think you can strong-arm me with these b
ig hands of yours either.”
I give her a look. “I’ll do whatever I want to.”
She looks at my mouth and her eyes go sultry and sensual. “I like that.” I can guess what she’s thinking from the way her tongue comes out a little, resting on her bottom teeth, her lips just barely open.
“You should like that.” With effort, I pull her closer to me and she scoots in to help. With her not even a foot away, it occurs to me. “I need to brush my teeth, don’t I?”
She cracks up. “You might. You might need to do that.”
Leaning back, I say, very seriously, “I like how honest you are.”
Her smile fades and a crease blinks across her forehead, gone almost before it even got there. “Of course. Honesty is crucial. You know what? I think I have to use the bathroom.”
“You can use mine.” I point my chin to the one in the room.
She glances to it, and releases my hand to stand up. “No. I’m going to use the one out there. You go brush those teeth of yours because phew! Man! You are ripe.” She grins and walks to the door.
“I smell like a caveman – what?”
She says over her shoulder, “Please don’t brush away the caveman. I really, really like the caveman in you.”
“Oh yeah?”
She sticks her ass out and winks at me over her shoulder, her long ginger hair hiding half her face. “Oh yeah. And I mean… ohhhhh yeah.” She walks out of the room and I stare at the door, irritated that I can’t run after her, tackle her and throw her down on the bed to take her.
As I walk into the bathroom, it occurs to me that I didn’t want to run after Rebecca. And once again, her words come back to haunt me.
Chapter Thirty
Annie
Corridor Tile: flashing by my feet. Heart: confused and aching. Smile: gone. gone. gone.
I know I have to confess who I am to him. I have to. Before it’s too late. But what if it’s too late already? What if he doesn’t forgive me? Things are calm now. Rebecca must have left, because he’s not acting like she’s coming back, or like she might walk in at any moment again. I have to assume she’s gone. For good? I hope so, but that would be wishful thinking. She doesn’t look like the type to just give up on anything. A head held that tall spells pride. I know women, they can be mean. Sophia consistently and deliberately ate at the connection Christiano and I have, all the years I was with him.
But Brendan seems relaxed. It feels like we finally have some time to just be us, to get to know each other. He likes me. It’s all over his face. He’s smiling like he used to when he was in those first years of college – when he was with Sara and he was happy. It’s that same carefree, unguarded, happy smile I just saw on him, only this time that smile is for me. I can’t believe it, but I saw it with my own eyes and everything inside me is saying that what I’ve always hoped, is really happening!
What if my confessing takes that smile away? I can’t do that! I just can’t.
It would break my heart.
Looking up, I gasp to see Mark walking toward me with a look of concern. “Hey, I remember you. We met… you were working… at that new place.”
We stop and I nod and say, a bit nervously, “Le Barré. Yeah. That’s me. I’m Annie.” Before I can stop myself, I ask, “And you are?”
He holds out his hand. “I’m Mark. Brendan’s roommate.”
Shaking his hand, I push my hair back from my forehead, totally aware I’m digging myself deeper into the abyss. “Oh. Mark. Nice to meet you. It’s good to… yeah.”
His light brown eyes search my face. “You were there when Brendan got shot. Are you okay? I don’t know what went down. I was just headed there to see him.” He points in the direction of Brendan’s room and we shift our bodies.
“Yeah. It was the night you came in. You haven’t heard?”
His hands push into the pockets of his gray jeans and he shakes his head, a thick chunk of his sand-colored hair falling over his forehead. “No. I just found out. I’ve been calling Brendan, but…”
“He didn’t have his phone,” I offer, wishing to escape, and speaking quickly. “Yeah. I know. He just got it back… but I’ll let him tell you the story. I was just going to the bathroom, but… I think I’m going to go get some coffee, too. Could you tell him for me that I’ll be back in a little bit?”
Mark’s eyes flicker, understanding instantly I’m leaving to give them catch-up time. “Yeah, I’ll tell him, Annie. Thanks.”
I clap my hands together and bounce on the heels of my flats. “Great. Okay. Great. I’ll be back then. Nice to actually meet you… Mark.”
We keep going in the opposite directions we were headed and I mentally kick myself. Hey Mark, I used to sit next to you in Art History, but you wouldn’t know that because I sneered at you whenever you looked my way. Why? Because I thought you were a womanizing creep. But I guess I had you pegged wrong. Sorry about that.
Yeah, I’ll just turn around and tell him that right now.
Oh man.
Chapter Thirty-One
Brendan
Breath: breathable, and better yet, kissable. Mark: Not the person I was expecting to see.
Walking out of the bathroom, I’m holding the IV pole, and Mark takes one look at me. I hold up my hand. “Stop. Don’t even say it.”
“Nice dress.”
“Fuck. You said it.” I shake my head and finagle myself into the bed again.
Mark watches my slow progress with his arms crossed in front of him. “Dude.”
“I know, right?” Leaning to get the blanket and pull it up, it takes me longer than I’d like it to. “Don’t help me.”
“Do I look like I’m moving?” His eyebrows go up.
I squint at him from the corners of my eyes. “Well, you could try to help.”
He laughs and stays put, knowing I’m messing with him. “So, what happened?”
With the blanket finally where I want it, hiding my naked, humiliated legs, I lean back on the bed. I’ve been keeping it tilted up for back support pretty much all the time, lowering it only to sleep. I feel better upright. More strong. Less like a victim.
“How was New York?” I throw back.
He walks over and grabs the chair, sees Annie’s purse on it and moves it to a table while he says, “Oh, I saw Strawberry in the hall. She said she was going to get a coffee, but since this is here, I’m guessing her money’s in it.”
“She’s not coming back?”
He looks over at me, pausing, and considers my face as I cover and transform it to blank apathy. “She’ll be back in a bit,” he says with a calculated look in his eyes. “I think she wanted to give you a chance to tell me… oh, I don’t know – how the fuck you got shot!” His volume elevates at the end, comically, and he plops down in the chair, leaning forward with his forearms on his knees. “Now what happened?”
I tell him everything, intercepting questions and statements from him as I go, like, “In the bar? Nice,” and, “He came in when you were naked? Holy shit,” and, “You saw him about to pull the trigger? Fuck,” and, “Wait a minute. Wait a minute – how’d she get the gun away?”
And finally, “Rebecca walked in on you guys??!!” Mark whistles and leans back. “I bet that went over well.”
“Not at all.” We stare at each other and when I see the laughter sneak into his eyes, I can’t help but join him and soon we’re laughing pretty hard, with me holding my bandage and trying to control my shaking gut. “It’s not funny!”
He says, through hearty laughter, “It’s really not. But it so is.”
Struggling to control myself, I switch the subject, “So New York went well?”
With a grin, he nods, wiping his eyes. “Couldn’t have gone any better. I still have to find an investor for my app, but it’ll work out. I know now that it’s desirable. The investor I was meeting with?”
“Yeah?”
“He wanted it, but I turned him down because he dicked over one of Nicole’s friends.
” Mark leans forward to twist around and move my jacket, flatten it out so he can lean against it more comfortably. “It’s not worth it. I’ll find another one.”
I nod, once again admiring my friend for his integrity. It’s something I’ve always used as a barometer – would Mark do this? – then making a decision based on if he would or wouldn’t. It’s gotten me far. My dad was a good guy, but he wasn’t a lady’s man – he was with just my mother his whole life. Plus he was an introvert, something Mark and I definitely are not.
“Someone’ll come through for sure.”
“Yeah. So…” He looks at me, waiting.
“Don’t even start.” I look away. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“This Annie is pretty good for you, isn’t she?”
Shaking my head that he went there, I won’t look at him. I’m looking at the blanket, fixing it, looking at the window through the shut curtains, at the IV pole, pulling on the cord like I’m checking it. “What? She’s nice. We went through a lot so...”
Mark doesn’t say anything until I look at him again. “She’s nice,” he says, his lips pursed. “Welcome to the club, I’m just saying.” His hands go up.
“She’s just a woman like any other woman, Mark. Let it go.” I close my eyes.
“There’s nothing wrong with…”
Peering from behind tiny slits, I interrupt him. “Just because you fell in love doesn’t mean it’s contagious. Don’t get all foofy on me. Come on.”
He runs his hands through his hair as a slow smile builds. “Foofy?”
With my left hand, I reach back behind my head and throw my pillow at his smirking face.
He catches it easily. “Careful now, gimpy.”
A knock at the door turns my head, and I make the mistake of looking too fast, and with a little too much interest. He points at me, his chin lowered with a look that says, I saw that.
Reaching Hearts: Hearts Series Book 2 Page 12
