The tone of Blake's response sounded as if he was offended that the doctor even posed the question. As if he was embarrassed that the doctor assumed he couldn't hold his own against me. Which he can't. That's not even up for debate.
"Can I see her?" Was his response to me.
"Can you see her? I can't believe you asked me that. Hell the fuck no!"
"She's probably worried about me."
"Trust me, she isn't," I seethed.
After my last comment, the prick shifted around on his bed and tried to sit straight up. He grabbed the side of his stomach and winced in pain. Probably just a bruised rib. I've had them plenty of times before. Nothing that warranted the extensive exam he seemed to be getting.
In fact the obvious minor injuries he sustained, made me even angrier, because while he stepped away from the accident pretty much scot-free, Elizabeth was in surgery getting titanium pins put through her entire right leg.
The image of her getting operated on made me think of how scared she must have been after the accident. How much pain she must have been in. It killed me that I wasn't there to help her. I wondered if she called out for me? If she panicked. If she cried.
I should have been there.
"It was an accident. I swerved and we spun out."
"Why were you even together?"
"I was just trying to keep her safe."
"Safe? That's my full time job not yours."
"Well I heard you were on vacation in Miami, Bro. So today it was my job."
This motherfucker.
"Well you didn't do a good fucking job of keeping her safe did you, smart ass. I want a lot less sarcasm from you and more facts. What were you doing with Elizabeth today? I want to know everything that happened or I swear to God, I will break your other fucking arm."
"Listen sir," Dr. McPain In My Ass interrupted. "I'm going to need to call security if you keep threatening my patient. I understand that you're upset about your girlfriend, but this type of language and behavior is not tolerated in the hospital. You need to leave."
The doctor was looking and talking to me the same way the prick was. As if their non-tatted, pristine skin somehow made them better than me. As if the scar on my face was the mark of a degenerate and not a warrior. I was ten seconds away from taking that pen light of his and shoving it down his throat.
"I suggest you finish wrapping his arm and whatever else it is they overpay you to do and mind your own business," I said to the doctor in the calmest voice I could muster considering the circumstances.
"Listen you–" The doctor started in on me, but I tuned him out, once the prick interrupted.
"You want answers? Here they are. Elizabeth went to meet some ex-boyfriend of hers. The guy asked for the meet. She was nervous about it and didn't want to go alone. She asked ME to go with her. Days ago. I told her she should tell you about it, but she decided against that. Are those the answers you're looking for, asshole?"
"Her ex," I said with a deadly calm. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You think you're boyfriend of the year don't you? Well think again. You don't even know what's going on in her life. Did you know that she's afraid of you? She told me those exact words, and now that I've seen you in full action, I understand why. Do you threaten her in the same way that you've been threatening me in here? Do you talk to her like she's a piece of shit? Do you like the way she has to shrink in order to make you look and feel larger than life? No wonder she didn't want to tell you shit."
The words that were flying out of the guy's mouth were laced with nothing but pure disgust. He despises me, and I think it's because he sees me in the same way that I saw that skater kid and his girlfriend in the park. Like I'm detrimental to Elizabeth's health, or that I'm some sort of bad habit that she needs to break. He actually thinks he's doing her a favor by getting in between us. I decided right then that I'd take great pleasure in proving him wrong.
"When we arrived to the meet the guy, Beth spotted him sitting with someone, and one look at the dude he was with, and I knew something was very wrong. He looked like trouble, and she was clearly petrified of him. She said we needed to turn around and go before they saw us. So we hightailed it out of there, but they spotted us as we were leaving, and then they jumped in their car and started following us. Then–"
"Shut up." I threw my hand up to stop him from talking. "Did Elizabeth call the other guy Shrek?"
"Yeah."
I had to shut my eyes in a moment of deep regret. Over and over in my mind, I asked myself, how could I have let this happen? What universe did I live in that this prick had now become her knight in shining armor? Her rock to lean on?
"And she specifically asked YOU to go with her?"
"That's what I said isn't it."
I knew I fucked up big time, but I didn't believe him. Not in the way that he was trying to spin it. Elizabeth would never do that.
"I know that's what you said, but I also know that men lie. Especially pricks like you. Acting like they're one thing, when they're clearly another. Pretending to be her buddy and pal, the model employee, when you clearly have a fucking agenda."
"There's no secret to me. No agenda. What you see is what you get. She asked me to go, because she was going back and forth between deciding on whether to meet this guy or not. It was weighing heavily on her mind. I hated to see her struggling like that. So I helped her make the decision she needed to make. I gave her options. She chose door number one."
Then the asshole grinned at me. A smug, self-satisfying grin. I was so ready to get out of there. I knew that if I stayed too much longer, I was definitely going to bash this guy's head in. He was purposely trying to bait me. If I wasn't absolutely sure about his intentions before, I was made crystal clear about them then.
He wanted my girl.
Dr. McPain In The Ass was almost finished with the last of the exam when I decided that I needed to get out of there before I did something I'd regret; but Blake the prick just had to go and say something the fuck else.
"I told her I'd support her regardless of how she wanted to handle things, because that's what a good man does for a woman. Supports her decisions. What he doesn't do is make her question herself so much, that she doesn't feel safe enough to share them."
"Stop bullshitting me. Do you want Elizabeth?"
"I already have her, Bro."
That was it. I couldn't digest any more of this douchebag's shit any longer. The sea of fury that was bubbling inside my chest was growing at a rapidly fast pace, and I couldn't stop it. I was blind with rage, by his words, by his pompous attitude, and by the fact that some of the shit he was saying hit home.
And I hated him for it.
All of a sudden I had the tremendous urge to start breaking some shit up. To exert some energy that caused someone pain. So that's what I did.
Starting with Blake.
28
Elizabeth
There must be a million rooms in Penn's hospital, because now I've woken up in yet another one. A nicer one. They seem to always move me when I'm asleep. You can tell that the hospital hired a professional interior decorator for these particular rooms, and that he or she tried really hard to make it resemble as close to a person's bedroom as possible.
It's a clean, cozy, private single room. The walls are painted the tan color of chocolate chip cookie batter. I'm covered in a bedspread that has a beautiful tan, brown and red Aztec print. Decorative sconces are affixed on the wall above my bed. Mass produced, art work hangs on the walls. It's quite tasteful. All my flowers from the room before are here too as well as a few fresh arrangements. I obviously don't have my contacts in, so I can barely read the fine print on the note cards stuck in them. I think one is from my Aunt Joan. Wow, I haven't talked to her since Joseph's party at the steakhouse.
My room reminds me of one of the hotel rooms my parents and I stayed at on one of our summer vacations at the shore. The nicer one. I know a little bit about hospitals. Enough to know that there's no w
ay that I can afford this room and neither can my parents. I wonder which Masterson man is responsible for my upgrade.
As my eyes focus on my surroundings I start to recognize a familiar face, balled up in a chair, in the corner of my room. It's Sloan, and she's doing something I've never seen before. Something I didn't think I'd ever see. She's wiping tears from her eyes. Tears of sadness not hysterics.
"Sloan," I croak out.
It hurts like all hell to speak, but I'm excited as hell that I was able to at least get something out. Even if it's just one word. I almost feel like I've been living in a world where I am unable to communicate with the few humans I've seen over the last days, weeks, or however long I've been in here.
Sloan jumps happily up out of the blue pleather armchair she was sitting in, walks over to the bed, and places her hand on my arm.
"Don't talk, Bitsy. I'm so glad you're awake. I thought I was going to lose you for a minute there."
Well damn, did I almost die? Oh my God, is the baby okay? I unconsciously place my hands across my belly. Realization hits me. There's a baby inside of me. I'm pregnant.
Now that I think back, I realize that this is my fault. I ran out of birth control pills about a month ago and procrastinated picking up my new prescription. I missed about three or four pills, but then got back on schedule. It was stupid I know, but I've been taking the pill long enough now that I thought that the hormones were completely in my system. That a few days off wouldn't matter. Guess I was wrong.
I don't know exactly how long I've been in this hospital, but all the medicine I've been on for the pain can't be good for the baby. Roman's baby. I wanted to ask the technician a million questions when they gave me my sonogram, but my throat is still so sore, so I couldn't ask much. I suppose there's no use in me asking anyway. What's done is done. I've been drinking like a fish, eating crap, and drugged up these last few weeks, but there's not much I can do about it now, but try to do better moving forward.
There are so many things I want to ask Sloan, but there's no way I'll be able to comfortably get the words out. Not all of them anyway. So I just ask the important stuff using one word prompts, starting with Blake. He was in the car too, and I'm worried that his injuries were far more severe than my own. If I remember correctly, I had my seatbelt on and he didn't.
"Blake," I say my second word to her.
Sloan's eyes drop to the floor.
"I'm not going to sugar coat this, babe. You've been through too much for me to do that. Blake ... is still in intensive care, but they expect him to be moved to a regular room really soon."
I close my eyes in painful remorse. What have I done? If I've been in intensive care for days, but he's still in there, what on earth happened to him?
"It wasn't the accident, Bitsy." Sloan assures me after reading my facial expression. "He only broke an arm and I think a rib from the accident. The crash only crushed and pinned your side of the car in. There wasn't as much damage on the driver's side. In fact, Blake's the one who was able to get out and get you some help. He was also here when you went into surgery."
I open my eyes wider and look at Sloan with bewilderment. Hoping she can understand that I am confused as to why he's in intensive care if everything she told me is true.
"It was Roman," she says bitterly.
"Why?" I try saying and cough a bit afterwards.
"Don't talk. Sip on your water." Sloan pours some ice water from a mustard colored pitcher into a Styrofoam cup. She seals it with a plastic top and straw and hands it to me. I take a small sip, almost afraid to swallow.
"It was all too much for him to find out at once. You met with he who will not be named, which you didn't tell me about, but that's an argument for another day. Shrek was also there, then you were in a horrible car accident, Blake was with you when it all happened, and then it was him who ended up saving you. So I think the Dark Knight just lost it. He lost his ever loving mind and beat the shit out of Blake as well as a few security guards for good measure."
That's when the tears start to fall and my body begins to violently shake. Everything I was trying to avoid was happening tenfold right before my eyes, and there wasn't a thing I could do to change it or make it right. Jade's warning suddenly pops into my head about trust and how Roman doesn't give it freely or give it twice.
The urge to vomit is overwhelming. I turn my body as best as I can to the side and throw up all over the floor and apparently Sloan's shoes as she rushes over to hold my hair back for me.
She doesn't at any time ask me about the baby. That pretty much confirms for me that she has no idea. She would have said something already, especially after I puked. I'm actually impressed to see that the doctors really enforce HIPAA laws in this hospital. They probably can't discuss my pregnancy with anyone, because I'm over twenty-one. Not even with my parents. Which reminds me ...
"Parents," I whisper while Sloan cleans up the mess I've made.
"They're here. They've been staying in a hotel close to the hospital. You've been in and out of it. Sleeping a lot. So you missed some of their visits, but they are here all of the time. Listen, Bitsy, I think I should call the nurse in. Tell him you threw up. It's a male nurse, and he's not half bad looking." Sloan smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She's trying to be comforting, but I can tell that she's worried about me.
I try my best to return her smile and ask the question that I've wanted to know since I woke up in this place. The one question that I'm now frightened to ask.
"Where is he?"
She sighs deeply.
"He was arrested for the beating, but he posted bond. So he's home warm in his bed. Your parents convinced Blake to file a restraining order, so that the hospital would be forced to bar him from visiting you. I suppose if it wasn't for the restraining order, he'd be camped out in your room every single moment of the day."
Oh God ... maybe my parents do know about the baby.
"Your parents are at the hotel getting some rest." Sloan tilts my cup of water as a directive to take another sip. "We've all been taking shifts. Me, Juliette, and them. Even if we weren't allowed in your room, you haven't been alone for one second. Someone was in this hospital 24-7. They'll be back tonight, but I can call them now if you want."
I shake my head no as best I can, and I begin to cry harder than I think I ever have in my life. My life is a complete mess, and I have the nerve to be bringing a new life into my mess.
Sloan slides her chair over as close as she can to the side of the bed and starts combing her fingers through my hair. "Shh, Bitsy. It's going to be all right. I promise. It's all going to be fine. I'm just glad you're okay."
I close my eyes as the tears continue to roll down the sides of my face and inside of my ears. Everything is not okay, and all I want to do is go to sleep and wake up ten days ago.
29
Sloan
"I have to admit that this is very awkward," Is how I start the conversation.
"How so?"
"I don't like you even a little bit."
"The feeling is quite mutual."
"You seem broodier than usual."
"How very astute of you."
"I suggest you adjust your tone if you want my help."
I'm wearing a curve hugging jersey dress, a pair of knee high, leather boots, and my Burberry trench that my parents bought me last season for my birthday. Not only do I look good, but I'm feeling like quite the badass, superior bitch right now. I never thought I'd see the day that I'd have the Dark Knight right where I wanted him. On his fucking knees. Figuratively that is.
With his oversized body, scarred face, and tatted skin, he is the king of his gutter world, but in the soft and safe land of my best friend Elizabeth Hill, he is nothing more than a mere peasant; and I hold the only opportunity for him to gain entrance back into Bitsyland. It's the ultimate example of karma.
Treat people like shit and shit happens to you.
Elizabeth's recovery has been painstakingly slow.
The healing process of broken bones, a concussion, and damaged vocal chords is no joke, especially when you're heartsick, and she's definitely heartsick. She misses the jackass like crazy, but she's also carrying around a tremendous amount of guilt over what the lunatic did to her employee Blake.
He beat that beautiful golden-haired Viking of hers so badly, that his jaw is wired shut for eight to ten weeks. I'm not even sure how you pull something like that off in a hospital emergency ward full of doctors, nurses, and security staff, but he managed to get it done. Honestly the guy should be in jail right now, but I suppose he knows a lot of people in very low places who help him maneuver the system and keep him out of jail all the time.
No justice, no peace.
"You listen the fuck up, Glamazon–"
"No, you listen. I have a name. It's on all my official documents. My birth certificate. My license. Hell, my daddy gave me that name." I point directly to his face. "And you're going to call me by that name, or we aren't going to continue this conversation. You feel me?" I say satirically mimicking one of his usual go to phrases.
He thumps his fist on the table we're sitting at in The Lotus in anger. Maybe to get my attention, or maybe to get a reaction out of me, but his temper tantrums mean nothing at this point. He needs me, and I don't need him. Pure and simple. He's the one that better play nice.
"All right, Sloan." He says my name like there's garbage in his mouth.
"Good!" I clap my hands together. "Now we're getting somewhere. What do you want to know?"
Roman is on the outside of the circle of trust. Even though he isn't in jail, he's been barred from the hospital. I think forever. Bitsy's parents won't take or return any of his calls. Juliette and Joseph were so angry with him for embarrassing the hell out of them in the hospital that they've cut off his Elizabeth information pipeline. At least temporarily. Juliette has been known to slip when it comes to her stepson. She has a soft spot for him.
Elizabeth's phone was trashed in the accident, and she doesn't want another one until she's out of the hospital. I figure she doesn't want to field calls all day from fair weathered friends and curious extended family members. So I am the only direct connection the Dark Knight has to his beloved cousin, and it's a fantastic feeling. I am now the overlord.
Masterson In Love Page 20
