Just Like Breathing (Bring Me Back Book 1)

by Diana Gardin

  If Poppy was standing beside him when he went down, well, I’d just consider her collateral damage.

  “I got your card,” I say to Matt, leaning forward in my chair. “Thanks for reaching out.”

  “Wish I could have done more.” Matt’s voice goes someplace far away. “But I know that a man has to find his own way back. Glad you stopped by today.”

  I nod. “Wish I was here under better circumstances, but I have a problem.”

  “The legal kind?” Matt’s tone is sharp.

  I nod. “Not me. But I need a restraining order, and I need that shit to be as public as possible.”

  “Ah.” Now there’s a knowing amusement in Matt’s voice. “Let’s hear it.”

  An hour later, I’m leaving the police station, headed for the office. I have news to deliver, and this has to be done in person.

  “Brooks,” I remark, as he speeds through the city. “What would you do for a woman you love?”

  My driver chuckles softly. “There’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do for her, Flash.”

  I nod, happy he affirmed exactly what I’m feeling. “That’s what I thought.”

  When we arrive at the office, Nitro and I head up to the floor where the president’s office is located, just down the hall from my own.

  I don’t bother knocking; I just open the door and stride inside. The layout of the office is simple, with a desk in the center. I have Nitro lead me until I’m standing just in front of it.

  “Mr. Jackson.” Manheim’s voice is dripping with attitude. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning.”

  Smug son of a bitch. “That’s okay. I’ll make this quick. You’re fired.”

  Silence. I wait, the sweet sense of revenge filling me up and swallowing me whole.

  But just getting fired isn’t enough for Manheim. Not when he showed up at Arden’s studio, where she was alone. Not when he threatened her, scared her. No, he deserves so much worse for that.

  “I’m sorry…what did you just say?” The shock that’s so apparent in his voice is the greatest delight, the purest form of justice I can imagine.

  My tone is steady, even. But underneath is a layer of rage, bubbling just below the surface. “I said, you’re fired.”

  His chair scrapes loudly as he stands. “What the fuck are you talking about? You don’t have cause to fire me!”

  I lean forward and speak slowly. “Want to talk about cause? You really think I’m going to let you get away with threatening my girl?”

  I toss the paperwork I’ve been holding onto his desk. It makes a satisfying plop, and rustles when Manheim picks it up.

  “What the hell is this? A restraining order?” He has the fucking nerve to sound surprised.

  Dropping Nitro’s harness, I place both hands on his desk. “You’re nothing but a fucking leech, Manheim. This is my company, not yours. And with the restraining order on your record, and the shit I’m going to spew in the business circles in Savannah, you won’t work again, unless it’s somewhere really fucking far away. You got that?”

  His voice rises an octave. “You bastard. You think you can blackball me? You must not value your blond princess’s life—”

  His words are cut off when I vault across the desk and land on my feet directly in front of him. I push him backward, slamming his back into the wall behind him, my hand on his throat.

  “Listen to me, you slimy motherfucker.” The words grind out through my teeth, my face only inches from his. “I might be blind, but I’m not a pussy. Remember that the next time you decide to even speak about her. You’re finished, do you hear me?” I let my fist fly, landing a punch square in his mouth. His head snaps to one side, and somehow, I keep my anger in check. “Get the hell out of my building, before I throw your ass out like the trash you are.”

  I release him, backing up and hearing the satisfying splutter that comes afterward, as he spits what’s probably blood. Without another word, I turn and walk around the desk, grab my dog, and walk out of his office.

  When I’m back in the car, Brooks asks where I’d like to go next. My answer is immediate.

  “Take me to The Art Of Java. I need to see Arden.”

  I can hear the smile in his voice when he answers. “Sure thing.”

  We’ve only been driving for a minute or so when my cell phone rings. I slide my finger across the screen and the call automatically goes to the car’s sync feature. “Hello?”

  “Flash?” The female voice on the other end of the line sounds frantic.

  “Who is this?”

  Her words are rushed and broken in half by a sob. “It’s Brantley. You need to get to the hospital. Right now!”

  My stomach bottoms out, and I close my eyes. If Brantley’s calling me, it’s because Arden can’t. My heartrate thunders against my ribs, and I clutch the phone so tight I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter in my hand. “What happened?”

  “It’s Arden. She’s been in an accident.”

  28

  Arden

  Slamming the car door after I’m settled in my seat, I crank the ignition. My mother’s voice flows from the car’s Bluetooth system.

  “And you’re sure that you’re doing okay?”

  I can just see her, standing in her kitchen while she paces, the phone held in front of her with one hand while she chews on her thumbnail with the other.

  With a wry smile, I pull out of my driveway and head toward the river and downtown. “I’m fine, Mom. I really am doing okay. With everything.”

  And it’s the God’s honest truth. There were many times when I told my mom I was doing fine, and I was truly anything but. But now? The words I speak are accurate. Despite the bump Flash and I had yesterday at the launch event, there’s a buoyancy in me today. We’ve both seen the worst of the other’s scarred past, and yet we’ve come out on top. I feel closer to him than ever before, and I can’t wait to walk into our future together, hand in hand.

  “And how’s that man of yours…Flash? Have I told you how much we enjoyed meeting him over Christmas?”

  I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my mouth. “Yes, Mom. You’ve told me. More than once. And look, I’m late to meet him now, so I need to run, okay?”

  I can almost tell the exact moment she stops pacing and smiles. “Okay, honey. Talk soon.”

  I press the button on the steering wheel that ends the call, and pull up at the red light that separates new Savannah from historic Savannah. The smile that my mother’s mention of Flash brought to my lips hasn’t gone anywhere. Every single time I think of him, I smile, and once again, I find myself contemplating how I got here.

  From the deep, dark cave of despair where I lived after I woke from the coma, to today. Where I live in the light. And I’m filled with hope and plans for a future I never thought would come.

  It amazes me, when I really sit and think about it. But there’s also a small part of me, a part I try my best to hide, that feels the gnaw of guilt. The bite of sadness that still pierces my heart when I think about the fact that I’m moving on with my life without Trenton and Danté.

  They were my whole world once…how can I put them behind me? If they knew, would they feel betrayed?

  Forgotten?

  Shaking my head to brush off the dark twist of my thoughts, I hit the gas as the light turns green. I’m supposed to be meeting Flash at The Art Of Java, so he can tell me how everything went at the police station this morning.

  Shaking my head, I grumble inwardly for the hundredth time about the fact that he asked me not to come with him. I told him that I could file my own restraining order, but Flash said he knew someone on the force, and that he was going to handle things with Manheim in person afterward.

  I shudder, just thinking about it. I might not admit it out loud, but I’m relieved Flash didn’t want me anywhere near that psycho.

  The sound of a gunning engine, too close, is the first clue that lets me know something is wrong. The second is the alarming screech of brakes that rents t
he air.

  Only one thought drifts through my head as I close my eyes and take a breath.

  Not again.

  Forsyth Park. Not only the place I love to run, but it’s also Danté’s favorite place. I turn in a slow circle, noting that everything is bright and lush and green, like spring.

  But it’s not spring. It’s February. It should be stark and cold and quiet. The park is not nearly as nice in February.

  I glance around me, the beauty of the landscape making the absence of crowds more obvious.

  Why isn’t there anyone here? On a rare warm day in February, the park should be packed with people walking, running, or playing with their children.

  Children.

  Pain slices through my heart, pain that I can’t quite find the reason for, and I blink rapidly to hold back tears. Something’s wrong. What…what is it? My brain is so fuzzy. Why can’t I remember? And why is this ache so insistent?

  “Ards.”

  I turn around slowly, not quite understanding why my heart pounds at the sound of his voice. “Trenton?”

  He’s sitting on our favorite bench overlooking the river. The bright blue sky and Kelly green his backdrop. His face…it’s perfect. But it’s always been perfect, that shouldn’t surprise me. Trenton is handsome in the classic, all-American way. Wavy, dark blond hair he wears styled just right. Khaki pants that hug his fit frame. A polo shirt tucked in; something he’d play golf in during a business meeting at the course. Perfect. Classic. So why does it all seem so…strange?

  He smiles the same smile I fell in love with when we were just kids.

  “Trenton?” My feet pull me toward him, and I drop down on the bench beside him.

  He immediately takes my hand in his, kissing the back of my knuckles the way he’s done a thousand times. It feels like I just found something I’ve been missing for a long time.

  So then why doesn’t it feel more right?

  “What are we doing here?” I ask Trenton. “And why is it so warm?”

  His blue eyes don’t sparkle the way they used to. He assesses me with what’s almost a sad smile on his face. “You’re not supposed to be here, Ards. But God, I missed you.”

  Missed me? “I…I love you, Trenton. So much.”

  He squeezes my hand, then reaches up to brush a lock of hair off my forehead. His touch is feather-light, and I close my eyes briefly as a lump forms in my throat.

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeats. “You need to go back.”

  Panic flares again. Go back?

  I glance around. “Where’s Danté? I don’t see him on the playground.”

  I don’t see any children on the playground, but that doesn’t seem like the point right now. A wave of dizziness washes over me, and the edges of the beautiful scene before me blur. I blink, and everything rights itself.

  “He’s home, Ards. We both are. We’re happy. I promise you. Don’t worry about us.” Trenton’s voice is wistful, and I can’t figure out what’s wrong.

  I need to figure out what’s wrong.

  “Of course we’re happy. We’ve always been happy, Trenton. We love each other. That will never change, right?” My voice lifts on the last word as my heartbeat continues to pound, pound, pound inside my chest.

  Why is my heart beating so fast?

  Trenton releases my hand and slides off the bench. He squats down in front of me and stares into my eyes. I always loved his eyes. They’re so deep, it feels like you can fall right into his soul. They’re the kindest, most caring, eyes I’ve ever seen.

  “Listen to me, baby. You don’t belong here. Not yet. You need to go back.” Trenton’s voice carries all the gentleness it ever has, but it’s also firm.

  Final.

  “Why do you want me to leave? I don’t want to leave, Trenton.” I glance around one more time. My eyes cloud with tears when I look back at him. “I want to stay here with you.” I swallow. “Where’s Danté?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “You can’t see him right now, Ards. You wouldn’t want to go back if you did, and you have to go.”

  He smiles again, but it’s not right. It’s that sad smile again, the one I never used to see on Trenton. “Think, Ards. Think.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and savor the feel of his hands resting on my thighs. Then, instead of Trenton’s hands, I picture another set. They’re bigger, more scarred and calloused. They mean safety, and warmth. And they electrify my body like lightning.

  I release a breath, and my eyes snap open.

  “Flash.”

  Trenton nods, his smile changing from sad to proud. “That’s my girl. You have to go back to him, baby. That’s where you belong now.”

  I shake my head, frantic. “But I can stay here with you. I can be with Danté. I want…” My words trail away, because then I think about leaving Flash.

  Pain lashes. My heart riots.

  Leaving him would hollow me out. He’s a part of me now. I don’t want to lose him.

  And I’ve already lost them.

  “Think about what it would do to him if he lost you now. You can do this, Ards. You have so much more to do out there.” Trenton gestures toward the river, where a thick mist is gathering.

  I squint, trying to see through the mist, but it’s too thick. It creeps closer, and I should be afraid of it. But I’m not.

  I try one more time. “Danté needs me.”

  Trenton squeezes my legs. “He has me. When it’s time, he’ll have you again. But it’s not time, Ards. You have a whole life to live before that time comes. You have a home to build. You have more babies to make. It’s going to be beautiful.”

  Tears stream, soaking my cheeks and dripping from my chin. “But…”

  Trenton shakes his head and stands, pulling me to my feet. He leans forward, and that touch, so damn light, lands on my forehead with a kiss. “You have to go. And you have to go now. Be happy, Ards.”

  He gives me a gentle push toward the mist, and I take a few stumbling steps. When I turn around again, Trenton is gone.

  “I love you,” I whisper to the now empty bench.

  And then I turn and step into the swirling mist.

  29

  Flash

  Nitro and I walk through the sliding hospital doors. When Brooks dropped me off at the front door to the emergency room, he told me he’d be standing by. He wanted an update on Arden as soon as I could give him one.

  The first advantage I’ve ever found for being blind? I don’t wait in line. Everyone moves out of my way, and no one makes a fuss that the blind guy stepped in front of them.

  I keep walking until I reach the counter, and hope there’s someone there who will fucking listen. Because if I have to tear this whole hospital apart looking for my girl, that’s what I’ll do.

  I place shaking hands on the flat surface in front of me. “I need help. Right now.”

  A woman’s voice behind the desk sounds concerned. “Are you sick, sir?”

  Shaking my head, exasperation rolls across my nerves, amping me up. “I’m looking for someone. Her name is—”

  “Flash?”

  I turn toward the sound of Brantley’s voice.

  “This way.” She sounds as desperate and frantic as I feel.

  “Talk to me, Brantley.” The words are spoken through my teeth as we move down a hallway and step into an elevator. “What happened?”

  She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before she answers. “She’s going to be fine, dammit. She has to be fine. I can’t…” A sob bursts from her, so loud it makes my head snap toward her. “I can’t go through this again, Flash. I can’t lose Arden.”

  My hand tightens on Nitro’s harness, and I reach for Brantley with the other hand. The seconds tick by, and I try to be patient with her. I know she’s scared and she’s doing her best to keep it all together, but I need to know exactly how this happened and what’s going on with Arden.

  I need to know now.

  “Someone ran a red light
when she was driving toward the studio. Slammed into the passenger side of her car. Passenger side, not driver’s side. That matters, right? And she had barely taken off from the intersection. The driver who hit her”—Brantley pauses to take a breath, and I think I’m suffocating from the weight of what she’s telling me—“was going about forty. So it could have been worse, but...”

  The breath she releases rattles me down to my fucking bones. “But they had to do surgery; emergency surgery. She has some internal injuries. I’m her emergency contact, so they told me what was going on. But that’s all I know.”

  The elevator doors open, and I follow Brantley into a space that smells like a fucking hospital. Too sterile. Too cold.

  This isn’t where my Arden belongs. She’s been through enough, and all I want to do is punch something until someone sets this right.

  The room Brantley leads me to is for waiting. The one thing I can’t stand doing. Feeling powerless, helpless…it’s torture. Especially when it comes to Arden.

  “So you’ve spoken to her doctor? What are they saying? About…about their expectations?”

  Ripping off my glasses, my head drops into my hands, my fists digging into my eyes.

  Brantley sounds lost. “They couldn’t tell me anything except for her current condition. He said he’d know more after the surgery.”

  And so, we wait. Minutes flash by like hours; hours pass like days. I don’t know how much time has passed when Axel shows up.

  I stand to greet him when he enters, and somehow keep myself from breaking down as he grabs me in a tight hug. When he releases me, I swallow the sorrow, because that’s not what Arden needs right now.

  Axel lets me go and I can hear the quiet words he murmurs to Brantley when he hugs her. “Shhh, don’t even say that. She’s going to be okay. She’s got you and she’s got Flash, and I don’t know two stronger people.”

  So we continue to wait. Axel is beside me, and sometimes he asks if I need anything, or he speaks softly to Brantley. I leave once, only to step outside and take Nitro out.