Irreplaceable (Harmony)

by Angela Graham

  I looked up at him. “Seriously, you can go. I’m sure Oliver and Julia will be back any minute, and I don’t plan on having anything else humiliating for you to witness before then.” I focused my gaze on the opposite wall, waiting for some wisecrack on his part.

  Instead, his hand caught my chin, pulling my attention back to him very slowly. The moment my eyes met his, he released my face. I sat frozen from the agony written over his expression.

  “I’m not leaving until you listen to me—until you understand that I’m never going to walk away from you again.” His hand came back, his pointer finger running over my cheek briefly, but it only added to the agony on his features. His fingers withdrew as though they’d been burnt.

  “I fucked up, Cassandra. I hate myself for it and I can’t take it back, but I will spend every day and every night proving I can be the man you need me to be.”

  His eyes were so soft, voice so sincere, but I couldn’t let it get through my defenses. I couldn’t go there again. The pain was too much. He didn’t really want me—it was only guilt he felt.

  “Logan, I—”

  He silenced me with a single tear that lingered in his clouded blue eyes before falling to his cheek.

  His eyes closed for a moment then opened, begging me to hear him out. “Don’t. Don’t tell me no, or that it’s too late. I’m already aware of that, but I won’t give up. I just need you to know…I’m never letting you walk away from me again.”

  “I got Jell-Os and found blueberry muffins!”

  I swallowed the fresh tears brewing and mammoth emotions buzzing in my gut, and smiled at Oliver walking in as though everything was always rainbows and sunshine. I wished it were so easy.

  “Thanks,” I said, pulling on a forced smile.

  Logan backed away so Oliver could hand me the small plate and plastic spoon.

  “Bet it’s not as yummy as yours, d’ough.”

  I smiled. No matter how much anger I held for his father, Oliver was as sweet a child as you could find.

  “We should get going. Cassandra looks tired,” Julia said, sensing the tension in the room. I offered her a grateful but uncomfortable smile.

  “I’ll come see you when I get home, and I’ll have Hilary bring Scout by tonight for you,” I told Oliver.

  He stretched up on his tiptoes and rested his head over my chest. My arms held him in place for a pause, relishing the comfort he exuded. I brushed a hand through his mop of blond curls. “Make sure Scout gets lots of love,” I whispered.

  He looked up and nodded. “I will. Promise.”

  He was such a good kid. Luck was definitely on my side when fate placed him in the house beside me. If only I could say the same for his father.

  Logan walked back to my bed, and my posture stiffened when he leaned down. “I’ll be back tonight with dinner, and we’ll finish talking,” he murmured. “Till then, sleep well.” His lips brushed over my cheek, lighting my soul on fire in spite of myself.

  Closing my eyes, I sunk into the stiff mattress. Sleep is exactly what I need right now.

  Chapter Three

  Control

  A man of his word, Logan entered the room just past six that evening carrying a plate of food, but not from the cafeteria. As he drew closer, a relaxed look settling over his face, I noticed the plate held my favorite childhood meal: two chili dogs, with waffle fries and orange slices on the side.

  My mother had to have been to blame for his knowledge of it, and I wondered what other little tidbits of information she’d shared.

  “Hope you’re hungry,” he commented, setting the plate on the tray beside me then wheeling it closer to rest in front of me, hovering over my lap.

  “Considering the nurses never delivered my dinner, which I’m sure you had something to do with, yes, I am.”

  The chili dogs smelled delicious. My mouth salivated, and I couldn’t help but snatch a fry. Oh, yeah—he was good.

  I swallowed and looked up at him questioningly. “So what else did my mother tell you about her only daughter? The name of my childhood crush? Or perhaps the date of my first period?”

  Stuffing my mouth full of fries, I hoped to disgust him as much as he’d disgusted me that fateful night. I refused to let him know how wonderful the meal was. Why couldn’t he just drop off the food and leave, letting a girl eat in peace?

  “No, but I can always give her another call.” He raised his brows and pulled out his phone, earning him a deserved scowl as I sunk my teeth into the juicy hotdog.

  God, was it good. Damn it.

  “Did you bring anything for yourself, or are you planning on watching me eat all this alone? ‘Cause I’m not sharing.”

  His face lit up, amused at my hard tone. “I could watch you eat every day, sweetheart,” he said with a smile, sitting in the chair beside my bed.

  There it was: a name that once completed me, but now caused me to spit the rest of my hotdog into the cloth napkin. My appetite was gone. I wasn’t his, and I never would be.

  “Something wrong with it?” He watched with a mystified stare as I stuffed the napkin under the rim of the plate.

  “No, but something is very wrong with you sitting here as though it’s the most normal thing for you to do after I offered myself up on a silver platter and you laughed in my face.”

  His carefree manner was replaced with a distraught frown. “Cassandra, I never laughed—”

  “Don’t try to make me feel better, Logan. I made a fool of myself, and you know it! The truth is out there, and you can’t take that back.” I pushed the tray forward, needing more space to think, to breathe, before angling my head to the side, scowling. “You wanted to fuck me! If Natasha hadn’t shown up that night, you would have, proving I was just like every other girl.”

  “Please, you have to—”

  “No! I don’t have to do anything. I don’t owe you a damn thing, so you need to leave. Get the hell out of my room, and out of my life! Go enjoy another game of poker with Caleb!”

  “I’m not going. And as far as that game of poker I played the other night, I don’t know who told you about it or what they said, but I was there trying clear my head so I could think straight. I was miserable the entire night thinking about you, here, stuck in a damn bed!”

  “I don’t care!”

  “Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t bring it up. You think I’d rather play poker, a game I lost ten grand at that night because my head was focused on you, instead of being here?”

  I didn’t say a word.

  “I’m staying. That’s final!”

  Who the hell did he think he was? With a sigh, I decided the best way to get him out of my life was to stop engaging him.

  “Fine, then stay, but don’t expect me to speak to you or even acknowledge you, for that matter.”

  I turned away and closed my eyes. I wasn’t going to let him stroll back into my life. I wasn’t going to be that girl ever again.

  And so it began. Logan remained sitting beside me, quiet as ever, until visiting hours ended. Then he gave a soft but rueful goodbye before leaving me alone to wallow.

  The next morning, Logan arrived as though I was expecting him. I didn’t believe he was really there to stay until he sat solemnly on the chair beside me for the next few hours without a word. He returned again later that evening with dinner.

  “Still holding onto the silent treatment, huh?” he asked, setting the plate of food in front of me.

  I didn’t say a word. Silence was better than talking, because talking would begin a conversation that would lead nowhere good. The man was gorgeous and here with me, trying, but it didn’t matter. My anger—not just at him, but at myself for being so weak—was deeper than he could imagine.

  Logan slid off his coat, dropped it onto a small chair across the room, and walked back over. I wondered if he’d went to the paper to work after he’d left that morning, but doubted it, due to the dark blue jeans and long-sleeved grey Henley he wore. It hugged his arms and chest a
nd looked a size too small, which was exactly what any hot-blooded woman hoped for.

  The man looked good. Too good.

  With a sigh, my eyes slammed shut and I lowered my head, shaking it. Not good. Not beautiful, not sweet, and definitely not kind. He was none of those things I’d once thought—at least, not to me he wasn’t. I’d tried, put myself out there, ready to jump in, but he’d made things clear with the condom he’d thrown in my face. I saw exactly where I stood with him; looks had no influence anymore. Gorgeous or not, the man would eventually destroy me—I felt it deep down in my gut.

  I stabbed a piece of meat and shoved it into my mouth as Logan sat in his usual spot in the chair beside my bed. I ate in silence, and was finishing off my bowl of fruit when the door cracked open and the male nurse on shift smiled.

  “Sorry it’s taking so long. It’s been crazy around here with a few of the other nurses out with the flu. When you’re done eating, buzz the desk and we’ll get you showered.”

  I nodded, smiling as I chewed with a closed mouth. I watched his head disappear and the door close.

  Just as I pierced another piece of melon, Logan was out of his seat, staring at the door. What the hell was he doing now?

  “That’s your nurse?” he asked, turning back and staring at me with a scowl burrowing between his brows.

  “Yeah,” I drawled, shoving the melon into my mouth, irritated at his critical tone. “Got a problem with male nurses?” I scoffed.

  Stalking toward the bed, he towered over me with a hard expression. “No, what I have a problem with is that guy thinking he’s going to help you shower.”

  I rolled my eyes. Was he serious right now?

  “Why? I don’t have a problem with it,” I replied, and there was a flash of not just anger in his darkening eyes, but something else, something deeper—hurt—and I couldn’t stop myself from driving the stake in further. “Actually, he’s kind of hot.” I shrugged my shoulders, pushed the tray holding my plate away, and reached for the buzzer.

  Logan’s hand covered mine in the same instant and ripped the buzzer away.

  “You’re a horrible liar, Cassandra.” His hand held mine and my heart raced, legs trembling.

  Why did I still feel it—still react to him? I hated it, and my anger fueled the strength to tug my hand free. Logan stood unaffected.

  “Using something as petty as jealousy to hurt me won’t change a thing,” Logan said. “If that’s what you need to do, then I welcome it; we both know I deserve your worst.” He walked around the bed and unplugged my IV stand. “But I won’t allow another man to help you bathe.”

  “What are you doing?” I sat up further, clutching the blanket to my chest.

  “Getting you your shower before that pervert comes back and I get myself arrested.”

  “What!?”

  He was not serious. First, it was the bathroom so I could pee, now a shower? Hell no. Not happening. “He’s a nurse, not a perv, you asshole! If anyone’s a pervert, it’s you!”

  I could’ve sworn I caught a glimpse of an upturn at the corner of his lips, but it smoothed as quickly as it’d peeked out.

  “Possibly. However, we’re not talking about me right now, Cassandra. This isn’t up for debate—if anyone’s going to help you, it’s going to be me.”

  My brows drew together. Did he just admit he was a pervert? That was a bit of information to store away and dissect at a later time, but not right now—not with Logan walking over to the bathroom. A second after he went in, I could hear the spray of the shower.

  I watched with a tense posture and narrowed eyes as he came back out. He rolled his sleeves up, then removed his watch, placing it on top of his coat.

  When he turned to face me, it took everything inside me not to melt. I needed to work on that. I squared my shoulders and drew from the image of him in that alley on New Year’s to restore my standing. Worked like an angry charm.

  “Logan, you’re not helping me shower!”

  “We’ll see. Now, do you need me to carry you in?”

  Was I being punished? I mean, come on! The last thing I needed was for him to see how battered and bruised I was.

  “Cassandra, we both know how much I enjoy carrying you.”

  At his first step toward me, I panicked, my stomach turning violently as I grabbed the buzzer and pressed the button hard again and again. There was no reply from the nurse, but to my relief, he was in the door a second later.

  “You all right? Ready to get cleaned up?” As the nurse—Jeffery, his badge said—approached my bed, his eyes darted between Logan and me, then to the bathroom that was beginning to fog up. I honestly wasn’t too keen on a male nurse helping me shower, but I was able enough to bathe myself. I just needed a little help getting in and out.

  “Yes, I’m ready. This guy was just leaving,” I said, nodding at Logan.

  “No, I wasn’t,” Logan snapped, stalking back to my bed and standing between it and Jeffery. “I can help her in the shower myself. You can go.”

  With a glance at both of us again, Jeffery smiled. “I understand. Just make sure she sits on the chair in there and holds the shower sprayer to wash. I’ll come in when you’re ready to apply a fresh bandage. We don’t want those stitches to get infected.” My jaw dropped as I watched Jeffery smile once more over at me, then turn to leave.

  “Wait! No—Logan, you need to go. If I miss out on a shower because of you, there will be hell to pay!”

  “I’m sorry,” Jeffery’s eyelids lowered in confusion. “I just assumed you two were…”

  “Nothing but unfriendly neighbors? Yeah, that’s us, and he was just leaving.”

  “Like hell I was,” Logan said, still glaring at the man who stood at least six inches shorter than him.

  “Look, I wasn’t planning on bathing her myself, sir. I just need to be here if she needs any assistance. But if it would make you more comfortable, I can send in a female nurse. It will be another hour or so, but it won’t be a problem.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I blurted out, aching to get my first real shower. Sponge baths were not doing the trick the past couple days.

  “Yes, it is.” Logan craned his neck, and with a serious and almost intimidating stare, he added, “Either me or a female nurse is getting you clean tonight—your choice—but I won’t be leaving till it’s done.”

  “Screw you, Logan. I don’t take orders!” I spit, pushing myself up. “Can you help me?” I said, tilting my head to look past Logan’s powerful frame to Jeffery.

  “Um…yeah, of course.”

  Great, now Logan had the poor guy scared. It didn’t matter—I would prove he couldn’t tell me what to do. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I winced at the thought.

  “You take another step toward her and it will be your last.” Logan’s threat was menacingly deep.

  “Sir, Cassandra’s my patient. If you stand in the way of her care, I will be forced to call security.”

  Go Jeffery! I was liking that guy more and more. Too bad he looked like one of Santa’s elves with his tiny frame, short stature, and pointed ears.

  “Logan, I’m showering. End of discussion.”

  He turned to face me fully, jaw clenched tight, hands balled at his sides so tightly the knuckles whitened. Slowly, he appraised my set, assertive stance. I wasn’t backing down.

  “Yes, it is,” he replied, eerily calm.

  Something in the way he spoke the words shot an icy shiver up my spine. Then, to my complete shock, Logan stepped out of the way and allowed Jeffery to wrap my robe around my back and help me to the bathroom. I was thankful it covered the laceration on my thigh and most of my bruises.

  Once inside, Jeffery watched as I sat on the toilet lid, then kneeled down to place a waterproof bandage over my stitches for extra protection.

  “If you need anything, I’ll be right outside the door. After you get undressed, be careful getting in the shower, and remember: sit on the shower seat. Don’t try to stand in there. You might f
all.” I nodded, and he closed the door.

  Alone at last, at least except for the mumbling of voices not quite audible through the door. I chose to ignore it and slipped off my robe, gown, and white cotton panties. I stepped slowly into the warm shower and sat on the cool metal seat.

  The shower sprayer detached and I held it in one hand while the other lathered soap over my abused body.

  I had to admit that by the time my hair was washed and body clean, I was exhausted. The only issue that bugged me was my back, which was in need of a good scrub from all the lying down I’d been doing over the last couple days. The sponge baths hadn’t seemed to be enough, and it was the one place on my body that still felt oily and grimy.

  With a grunt from the stab in my chest, I reached out and grabbed the towel, wrapping it around my front. After I was covered as well as possible I then turned around so I could call Jeffery in and see if he could help. It was his job, right? I had no clue, but I was desperate. Still, I wasn’t going to show him more than necessary; he’d only see my back and a bit of my ass. It would be worth it to feel clean again.

  Leaning back I stretched my arm through the shower curtain and knocked on the door.

  “Can you help me a moment, Jeffery?” I yelled.

  Straightening myself back on the seat, it hit me, would Logan might intervene yet again? Would he be that pigheaded? I should have told Jeffery to throw him out but I didn’t have it in me. I just wanted to have the sweat washed from my back, was that too much to ask?

  I closed my eyes and begged for a little luck. Please don’t let Logan come in, Please don’t let Logan come in, Please don’t let Logan come—.

  The door opened, and when I peered over my shoulder, there he was—blocking the door.

  “Get out!” I screamed, closing the curtain back all the way.

  Jeffery was there on the other side of Logan, yet I couldn’t see him. I could only hear him explaining how he was going to call security. Logan stood firm, his hands on each side of the door frame, back to me.

  Was this a joke?

  “What do you need?” Logan asked, craning his neck back.

  What do I need? Ha, where to start that list? Aside from you getting out of my room and leaving me to finish putting myself together?