by Alexia Chase
“No, I’m not still bleeding. Yes, I washed it out and put pressure on it. And, I came to Great Plains Hospital.” I bite my lower lip and hope I don’t get an ass chewing. Nicole works for County General, the rival hospital for Great Plains.
“Okay. They have a good ER. Actually, I’m starting a new job there next week. Not the ER this time, but as a nurse in one of the offices.”
Where in the hell have I been?
“Mr. Collins?”
I shudder. Fuck. Natalie saying my name is not supposed to make me weak in the knees. No. That’s not why I’m woozy. I’ve lost a lot of blood. That’s what is wrong with me. It has nothing to do with her. “Girls, I’ve got to go.”
“Call us back when you get out,” Leah demands.
Clicking off the phone, I stand up. Like I’m going to ignore her. If I don’t call her back, she’ll blow up my phone all night or drag her brood over to my house and set up shop in my living room.
Chapter Three
Natalie
I’m a professional. I can check him in without letting on that seeing him bothers me. Because it doesn’t. I’ve spent the last twelve years getting over him. We were young, full of innocent hope, and now, we’re adults, who know happily ever after is a fairytale for Disney Princesses.
Shit. I’m no fucking Rapunzel or Snow White. I don’t even qualify as one of Cinderella’s bitchy stepsisters. I have one full-blooded sister and no stepsisters. No one would marry my dad after our mom left. I snort. Fuck. This is so not funny.
“Mr. Collins, I need your insurance card.” Without glancing in his direction, I motion for him to have a seat next to me.
He straightens his leg, leans forward, and digs into the pocket of his jeans. There is barely an inch of space between us. I jump back to avoid any accidental touching.
“I’m not going to bite.” His rough voice curls along my spine as I remember the feel of his hands skating along my flesh. “Unless you want me to.” His eyes sear into me as if he’s remembering the same thing.
Whatever you do, don’t nip out. My heart slams into my chest, and my nipples tighten into two nubs of flesh that tent against the fabric of my bra. Bitches. I clear my throat and pin him in place with my most stern, ‘Dealing with an asshole patient face.’ “Mr. Collins, that is unnecessary. I only need your insurance card, so I can get you checked in.”
“Humph.” He rolls his eyes and digs the card out of his wallet. “What crawled up your ass and died? You used to have a sense of humor.”
Tears sting my eyes, and I bite my bottom lip. Hard. The metallic flavor of blood drenches my tongue as I split the inside of my mouth open. I swipe at it and swallow. “Trey, I’m just here to do a job.”
For several moments, he stares, and heat rises along my chest. I fight the urge to run and hide, but it never accomplishes anything. I’ve spent my entire adulthood running from my past. When will I ever woman up and deal with it?
“Fine.” He clears his throat and shoves the card toward me. “Here.”
“Thanks.” I grab the business card-sized sheet of paper and twirl away from him. As I pull up his record and type in his information, his foot taps on the floor. Just get it over with and move on. “Do you still live on Springwood Drive?”
My heart slams in my throat. Holy hell. He moved into the house we talked about buying when we got married.
“Yes.”
He married someone else and moved into my house? Son of a bitch. My eyes shift to his left hand. No wedding ring. That doesn’t mean anything. He could still be married.
I gulp. It feels like a medicine ball is lying on my chest. Who does he live with? How many children do they have? I close my eyes. Surely, my sister would have said something if he got married and had a slew of kids.
God, this sucks. A low moan escapes my lips. Don’t break down now.
“Are you okay?” Trey grasps my forearm.
The heat from his fingertips, sears into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine.” I click the mouse and exit out of the screen.
“We’re ready in exam room four.” Nurse Rivera calls out, saving me from utter humiliation.
“Thank you.” I swivel in the seat, and Trey’s hand falls to the side. “Right this way.” I jump up and plaster a helpful smile on my face. “They’ll have you all patched up in no time.”
“Natalie?” He places a hand on my upper arm and holds me in place. “Are you okay?”
Shit. His eyes bore into mine. Damn it. I was just getting used to him being an asshole, but now, he’s showing signs of the sweet, caring boy I loved more than life itself.
The guy who was my first everything. My first crush. My first kiss. My first lover. The man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with until my entire world exploded, and I couldn’t take him down with me.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” I nod and move out of his reach. He’s moved on. Hell, he had to have moved on years ago. There’s no reason to ruin his day with my fucked-up existence. He already needs a bunch of shots and stitches.
I yank the curtain back. “Go ahead and have a seat. Nurse Rivera will be with you in a moment.”
My eyes are glued to him as he adjusts his long legs and perches himself on the bed. His dark hair is disheveled like he ran his hands through it, hundreds of times. My fingers itch to stroke the strands and return them where they belong. Or grab fistfuls of it and stick his tongue down my throat.
Stop it. I sniff and close my eyes. He still smells like spice and wood. The warring scents of antiseptic and cologne shouldn’t turn me on, but they do. Move back. Get out of his space. He was talking to someone on the phone. Probably letting his woman know he’s going to be late. I straighten my shoulders. “What did you do?”
“About what? You leaving?”
My knees buckle, and I grab the portable tray in front of me to keep from landing on my face. He can’t still care about me leaving. It’s not possible.
There’s no way something that happened that long ago is still eating at him like it tears me up. Because I haven’t spent one night in the last twelve years, not thinking about him. “No, to your arm.”
“Oh.” He lifts it up like he just remembered what he’s here for. “Work incident.”
“Where do you work?”
“Building inspector/engineer for Hooper and Daughtry.”
“That’s great.” Thank God.
For the first time, since seeing him again, a little bit of happiness settles over me. My sacrifice paid off. A part of me had always feared my betrayal started him down the wrong path. It didn’t. Everything I did was worth it.
“Somebody left a board out hidden under a bunch of shit, and it knocked a piece of glass into my arm.”
“I assume you’re going to violate the owner for a code infraction?”
“You know it.” He grins, and his perfect white teeth flash against his dark complexion. Fuck. He’s more handsome now than he ever was.
“Good.” My heart clangs against my ribs, and my stomach does a slow summersault. Son of a bitch. I’m still in love with Trey Collins. Not a big surprise. I’ve tried to date other men over the years, but none of them were him. He left big shoes to fill that no one else ever had a chance of filling.
However, it’s pointless. The past is in the past. “It’s good to see you, Trey. I’m glad you achieved your dreams.” He went to college, got his engineering degree, and bought the house he wanted. Good for him.
“Not all of them.” His voice is soft as his eyes search my face. “Sorry for being a dick when I saw you up front.” He nods his head toward the reception desk. “Seeing you again threw me off for a second.”
My entire body surges with adrenaline. His eyes are filled with a mixture of regret and something else. Is it love? Lust? Anger? Shit. I can’t tell. My hands shake, and I clasp them together.
Holy cow. Could he still be interested in me? No. Don’t go there. He’s moved on. From what I heard; he was a total player in college. He had to ha
ve forgotten all about me before I even made it to Gram’s house.
“Mr. Collins.” Nurse Rivera yanks back the curtain and jerks her attention from him to me. “I can come back.”
“No.” Heat floods my face. “I was just leaving. Trey…” I clear my throat. “I mean, Mr. Collins is probably itching to get that wound cleaned and get out of here.”
A slow grin curves up his cheeks. “Princess, it was good to see you. Don’t be a stranger this time.”
“Bye.” I trip over my shoes. Shit. Why am I falling all over the place? I’m a grown-ass woman. Not an eighteen-year-old girl crushing on the high school quarterback. But damn, he made a fine-looking QB. I steady my legs and speed walk to my seat.
Princess. My clit twitches. I loved it when he called me, Princess. Any time he wanted something, a kiss, a hand job behind the bleachers, or to get into my Sunday panties, all he had to do was call me, Princess.
Chapter Four
Trey
The streetlights cast a soft glow around the few vehicles in the parking lot. There isn’t enough light to read by, but bright enough to see clearly. The red glow of my stereo illuminates the inside of my 4x4 as I wait for Natalie to come outside.
It’s only been twenty minutes since I was released with twelve stitches, prescriptions for antibiotics and pain killers, and a white bandage that’s wrapped around my arm, making me look like the beginnings of a mummy. A little overkill.
During the examination, cleaning and suturing, I hadn’t felt anything. The nurse injected me with some type of deadening agent, but now, the damn thing is starting to sting. And my head is throbbing.
But I’m not leaving. Not without talking to her again. She owes me an explanation. I’ve never been able to wrap my mind around why she left. At first, I thought she was sick and just not answering her phone. Later, I feared her father had done something to her and went to the police.
Thankfully, they’d found evidence she was alive. Unfortunately, that meant her father wasn’t going to jail where he belonged, and she’d left me because she didn’t love me. It was like a punch to the solar plexus.
The wind blows a piece of trash across the length of the parking lot. It flips and cartwheels until it lands in the grass. My phone chirps.
Leah: Where are you?
Me: I’m still at the hospital.
Leah: They have to amputate?
It would serve her right if I said yes.
Me: No.
Leah: Getting a sex change?
Me: Fuck, no.
I grab my gut and laugh. My sisters are awesome – most of the time. Leah and Nicole were my rocks when Natalie left.
Leah: Getting a dick out of your ass?
I roll my eyes. Now, she’s gone too far and lost her awesome badge.
Me: No. I don’t have a dick in my ass. Nor, am I getting a new personality or a new face.
Leah: Damn it. You stole everything I had planned to say.
Me: Thank you. The hospital is releasing me now – they were slammed. I’m fine but exhausted. I’m going to head home and get some rest.
I’m not about to tell her about seeing Natalie. As protective as my sisters are, they’d break speed limits to come down here and read her the riot act.
Leah: Fine. Take care of yourself. You know we’re worried about you. Love you, big brother.
Me: Love you, too.
I drop the phone onto the leather passenger seat and return to my post. I’ll sit here all-night waiting for her to come outside if I must. I need to see her again, and I have no idea what she drives or where she’s living.
Twenty minutes later, Natalie stops in front of the exit of the hospital ER and waits for the motion operated doors to slide open. Her head is down as she trudges out of the hospital. Seeing me wasn’t any easier on her as it was me. So, why in the hell did she leave?
My fingers drum on the steering wheel as I watch her move across the parking lot. She travels toward a row of vehicles two down from where I’m parked. The lights of an SUV flash as she uses her key fob to unlock the vehicle.
I shove open the door and jump down. Slamming the door shut with force, I hope to make enough noise that she sees me, because the alternative is a face full of mace that would result in me needing the ER for a second time tonight. Or a knee to the groin. That wouldn’t be much better.
She twists sideways, and her mouth drops open. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.” The space between us disappears as I rush over the uneven parking lot. They’ve managed to build a new ER department but haven’t finalized the parking lot renovation.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She raises her hands as if to defend herself from me and backs up. She bumps into the metal of her vehicle.
“Seriously.” My eyes narrow into slits, and I ball my hands into fists. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I inhale and try to relax my muscles. Saying I’m not going to hurt her and coming at her like a bull is sending some mixed signals.
“No.” She shakes her head.
“Damn it, Natalie.” I’m not her asshole of a father. The prick used to punch her for sport. My heart slams into my throat. Is that why she left? Did he hurt her? The motherfucker. I’ll kill him. My breathing is ragged as I try and stop the intense rage running through my body.
“No.” She steps forward and grabs my forearms. “I would never think you were going to hurt me. You never have, and you never will.”
I sigh, “Thank God.”
“Shit.” Her face falls, and she releases her death grip. “I forgot about your arm.” She bites her lower lip and lifts my injured arm into the light. “Is it okay? It’s not bleeding again, is it?”
“It’s fine.” Hell, I can’t feel anything. From the second she touched me; I can’t think about anything else. Her fingers are delicate and soft as they burn into my flesh.
Once again, she’s branding herself into my soul. The woman I gave up ever seeing again is back in our hometown standing in front of me with her pouty lips open as she twists and turns my arm searching for damage. That’s not where the damage is. It’s my aching heart and my throbbing dick.
“Okay.” She drops my arm and shifts backward to put space between us.
“Why did you leave?” My voice is soft. I’m not positive she hears it over the breeze blowing her hair across her face.
Her eyes fill with tears, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “It was too long ago to matter.”
That’s such a bullshit cop-out. What are you afraid of? “It matters to me.”
She shakes her head and backs up again. “It shouldn’t. The past is the past. We need to move on. Surely, you’ve moved on.”
I shove my hands into my pockets. Is she married? Does she have children? My mouth dries, and I try to swallow over what feels like the Sahara Desert. “Have you?”
The words are in the air before I can get them back. Don’t answer. I don’t want to know. Knowing means, I can’t sleep with her in my mind every night. If she belongs to another man, I have to let her go. Tears prick my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter.” She grabs the door handle and yanks it open.
I shouldn’t be glad she evades my question, but I am. This way I can safely keep her in my heart where she’s always been. “Where are you staying?”
“With my father.”
“No. You can’t.” The vein in my forehead twitches and I swallow hard.
“It’s where I belong.” She shakes her head. “He’s dying.”
“Serves the fucker right.” I spit on the pavement.
“Trey!”
“Natalie, he’s a cocksucker. He beat on you because you were female and reminded him of your mom. He’s a weak coward.”
“He’s not like that anymore.” Her eyes plead for me to understand.
“Only because he doesn’t have the strength. You should leave. Don’t stay with him.”
“He’s family. The only family I have besides Lilli
an.” Tears slip down her cheeks as she slides into the car and slams the door shut.
“I was your family,” I mutter even though she can’t hear me. I want to shout, ‘I’m still your family,’ but she’s not ready to listen, and I’m not in the frame of mind to tell her without sounding like an asshole.
Whatever pushed her away is still eating her up twelve years later. Do I waste my time trying to figure it out, or let it go for good?
Chapter Five
Natalie
The wallpaper is yellowed and peeling. The entire place reeks of decay and depression. How can he live like this? I’ve been here for almost a month, and it’s getting worse by the day.
I pick up a string of beer bottles that line a circle around my father’s recliner. The ashtray on the foldable TV tray is overflowing with cigarette butts. There’s nothing left but the filters and a fraction of an inch of paper and tobacco. He’d smoke the butt if he could.
When my cellphone chirps, I jump and glance behind me to see if he’s going to come after me for interrupting his television show. Only the TV is black, and the last time I looked, he was passed out in the middle of his bed.
I jerk my phone out of my back pocket. Why didn’t I put it on silent? As fast as I can, I answer the call. I don’t want it to ring again and wake him up. Lillian.
“Hey, sis.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“I take it you’re still there.” She sounds irritated with a touch of condescension.
“Yes, I’m still here.” I sneak to the doorway and peer at my father. He’s wearing dirty jeans which sag down past his hips. Not that he’s making a fashion statement but because cancer has taken his will to eat. But never to drink.
He’s paired the jeans with a yellow pitted wife beater. How apropos. I shut the door without a sound. As the child of an alcoholic, you learn from an early age how to be quiet.
“You should fucking leave. He’s not going to appreciate you.”
“I know,” I sigh and move to the sofa. My nose wrinkles. Shit. I can’t even sit down. There are piles of newspapers and empty cigarette cartons everywhere.
