Passion, Vows & Babies_Unbearable

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Passion, Vows & Babies_Unbearable Page 2

by Kristen Hope Mazzola


  He cleared his throat. “You heard me.” He tried to sit up a little straighter, rubbing the side of his neck and jaw.

  My stomach flipped as I fought back the bile that was bubbling up in the back of my throat. “You deserve each other,” I said coolly.

  I grabbed my bike’s keys from the counter and flew out the door without another word. I only had my purse, gun, keys and a few pairs of underwear. Fuck it. I didn’t need anything from that damn apartment. I didn’t need a cheating husband or a lying best friend. I was better off without them. I was pissed I hadn’t found out sooner, but it was better than never finding out at all.

  I hopped onto my Royal Enfield Thunderbird. It was my pride and joy, the last thing my father gave to me before he passed away. As I made my way down the road, I tried to figure out where the hell to go. My brother was in Iraq fighting for our country, and I had no other family. The only other friends I had were work acquaintances at best and would not take kindly to me showing up on their doorstep, looking for a place to crash for the night. All I really cared about was putting distance between me and Jasper. I would figure out the rest along the way.

  I had never felt so free in my life. I had nothing other than the roaring bike under me and my dignity. That was all that truly mattered. When shit hit the fan, I wasn’t weak, didn’t back down. I couldn’t help but think that my daddy would have been tickled pink with pride at how I’d handled the situation.

  With a huff, Daddy sank into his chair at the head of the table before bellowing, “Scar! Remember what I told you?” He raised an eyebrow at me across the aged oak while I sniffled into the hanky he had tossed over to me before taking his seat.

  “Yeah.” I thumbed at the black embroidered lettering of my father’s initials on the thin white cloth.

  “I need you to say it out loud. I need you to believe it.” His deep voice was kind and understanding.

  “No boy is worth my tears.” I was coming down from being completely hysterical. Johnny Palmer had broken up with me out of the blue during lunch earlier that day. We had been dating for seven months, which was as good as a lifetime as far as a high schooler was concerned. He had been my first boyfriend, and I was going through my first true heartbreak at the hands of a boy. I felt like the world was caving in around me.

  “That’s right, Squirt.” The white whiskers of my old man’s scruffy beard spread as his smile got wide.

  “Daddy! Don’t you think I’m getting a little old for that nickname?” I teased as I strained to stifle my tears.

  He violently shook his head as he shoved up from the table. “You’ll never be too old to be my little squirt. Don’t you ever, not even for one damn second, think that. You’ll be fifty and I will still be calling you Squirt.”

  I followed him into the kitchen where my brother was pulling a roast out of the oven. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Liam excitedly announced after checking the meat thermometer.

  “Liam, hug your sister,” Dad commanded. Without hesitation, my brother’s arms were wrapping around me and Dad’s were bringing both of us in close to his broad chest.

  “All we need is each other,” our father reminded us, just like he did every day.

  I could still feel the cotton of my father’s dampened hanky in my hands, could still smell the delectable aroma of the roast Liam had broiled to perfection, could still feel the loving embrace of that emotional hug. Even though the colors had faded slightly in my memory, the truly important details coursed through my brain, bright as day.

  As the miles passed and the recollections of my childhood took over, I barely remembered why I was escaping down the highway. All I could think about was how manly my brother was, how great of a cook he had become, how amazing my father had been for embracing all of our talents and encouraging us to be the best we could be at just being ourselves. There was nothing in the world that he wanted more than for his children to truly grow into the individuals we desired to be.

  I could still hear my father’s raspy timbre repeating his favorite mantra: “Always embrace who you are, and never make any excuses for being yourself.”

  I never thought it was something special until it was too late to thank him for being such a phenomenal role model and parent. He didn’t care that I liked working on engines with him after school and playing dress-up while pretending to have a tea party or that Liam was the captain of his baseball team and took cooking lessons on the weekends. All my dad cared about was our happiness. It was the most wonderful gift he could have given to either of us.

  A little less than thirty minutes had passed as I got closer and closer to Atlanta’s city limits. The sun had faded and the glow of streetlights illuminated my ride. As the temperature started to dip, I decided it was best for me to find a motel to crash at for the weekend and formulate a new life plan, one of independence and liberation.

  Traffic was light, only a few cars ahead of me. It was calming, being almost completely alone with only the low hum of my engine and the sound of the pavement under the two wheels of my bike.

  Suddenly, the blaring of a horn and the bright headlights of a car took me by surprise. I whipped my head around just in time to see Jasper’s blue sedan connecting with my back tire. There was nothing I could do in that split second other than try to swerve out of his way, but it was futile. With shooting pain and squealing of tires, my bike lay down on its side, throwing my body like a ragdoll, off the shoulder and into the grass with a hard thump.

  I couldn’t move. My ears rang. My body was in excruciating pain. Within seconds, my entire world went blank as I fell into the darkness.

  Chapter 3

  Bear

  “Call Brock,” I barked at Jaxon as we rushed through the sliding glass doors that led to the emergency room.

  “For what, Bear?” He put his hand on my shoulder to stop my rushing pace.

  I glared at him before gritting my teeth. “Tell him where to find that chick’s bike. Have him bring it to the garage. Someone needs to see if it can be salvaged. This poor woman has been through hell tonight, she should go home to a working bike.”

  I was raging. It wasn’t about that damn bike. It wasn’t even about the damn girl—I didn’t even know who the fuck she was. It was that there was someone that could be saved and for fuck’s sake, I needed a damn win. She needed to be all right and her fucking bike needed to be fixed. It was the first positive little sliver of hope in sight, the only thing I could see to grasp on to.

  Jaxon turned and walked out the door without another word. There was a determined look in his eyes; he needed a victory just as badly as I did.

  I strode up to the nurses’ station with conviction, my chest puffed out, my head high in the air.

  “Can I help you, sir?” A blue-haired nurse in green scrubs with bright pink lipstick on her crooked teeth beamed up at me from her rolling chair.

  “There was an ambulance that just arrived with a young woman who was in an accident. Can you tell me where they’ve taken her?”

  She pursed her lips. “Are you family?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’m sorry, but I can only give patient information to next of kin. You understand, right? It’s hospital policy.” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes quickly.

  I bowed my head, silently counting to ten to calm my thoughts. In a low voice, I cooed, “I’m the one that found her while my friend and I were traveling home from a long trip. I just want to make sure she’s doin’ all right, ma’am. I’m sure there is some information you can give me on her status, isn’t there? I wouldn’t feel right leavin’ here without knowin’ how that little lady is doin’. She was all alone on the side of the road. Some jerk must have run her off the road and left her there for dead. I don’t want to think what might have happened if we hadn’t found her when we did.”

  The thick charm and sob story worked its magic on the kind nurse. She gave me the room number the Jane Doe had been taken to.

  After w
andering the halls and getting turned upside down more times than I could count, I finally found my destination. I stood outside the woman’s room, staring through the window as she lay in her hospital bed, still unconscious. She was mostly covered by a white blanket, but what was exposed of her body was bruised, scraped, and swollen. I didn’t know what to do. Standing there like a damn fool, I felt helpless. The desire to sit by her side and hold her hand was overwhelming, but the fear of freaking her out when she came to kept my feet rooted in the narrow hallway.

  “How’s she holdin’ up?” Jaxon had finally found me. I turned slowly on the heels of my boots to look at him as he made his way to my side. The bags under his dim eyes were turning purple from exhaustion.

  “I don’t really know,” I admitted, following him to a row of gray plastic seats just a few feet away.

  “You gonna hang out here until she wakes up?” he asked, probably already knowing the answer.

  I ran my fingers through the long bristles on my chin and neck. “It just don’t seem right leavin’ her here all alone to wake up in a bed hooked up to machines. That ain’t fair to her.”

  Jaxon nodded, leaning back farther into his seat. “You know she’s gonna be freaked when a burly ass biker strides into her room claiming to be her knight in shining armor, don’t ya?”

  Leave it to Jaxon to not sugarcoat his feelings about the situation in the slightest. “It’s better than the alternative.” I looked over at my number two as he narrowed his gaze at me.

  “And what’s that?” He questioned.

  “Walkin’ away.” I let my head fall back onto the cool wall.

  Jaxon shoved up from his chair. “This isn’t gonna bring Abel back. You do know that, right?”

  His sharp words cut through me. “I know,” I muttered. “It ain’t just about that. It’s about doin’ the right thing.”

  “For her or for you?”

  I ignored his question completely.

  “Coffee?” he asked, already walking away.

  “As long as you make it Irish with that flask I know you got hiding in your cut,” I replied.

  He glanced over his shoulder before turning the corner to head toward the cafeteria. “Aye, brother.”

  Jaxon and I must have dozed off for a few hours because I was startled awake by the blaring of an alarm a few rooms down from where we had parked ourselves the night before. Nurses and doctors rushed past, flying into the room to save the patient.

  I stretched out my stiffened back before nudging Jaxon awake. The low light of the sunrise was coming in through the windows giving the stark hospital a golden glow.

  Through a yawn, Jaxon muttered, “Gah, damn it. What the fuck time is it?”

  I shrugged. “Too fucking early.”

  It took me a few seconds to remember why we had been sleeping in uncomfortable plastic chairs in the middle of a hospital.

  I leapt to my feet. “She’s awake,” I whispered as I tiptoed toward the young lady’s room. She was sitting up, staring blankly at the television in the corner of her room. The droning of a news report was my soundtrack for walking in and startling the poor girl half to death.

  She let out a piercing shrill as I knocked on the open door and her dainty hand flew to her chest. Clearing my throat, I continued to make my way into her room.

  “Ma’am, I’m Rudiger Beringar. I was the one who found you last night on the side of the road.”

  Her eyes were still wide. She was frozen. All she did was blink at me for what felt like a lifetime.

  To fill the silence, I continued, “Everyone calls me Bear, not that that makes a difference to you or anything. I just wanted to stick around and see for myself that you’re doin’ all right and that the docs here were takin’ good care of ya.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I shuffled my feet all the way to the foot of her bed. “I know you don’t know me from Adam, and I promise I’ll leave you alone, but I wanted to leave my business card with you. I had one of my mechanics pick up your motorcycle and bring it to our shop. I’ll personally take a look at it and make sure it gets fixed up good for ya.”

  I dug a card out of my wallet and set it on the bed by her feet.

  “All right then. I’ll leave ya to gettin’ some rest. I hope you feel better soon, darlin’.”

  I was one foot out the door before she finally spoke.

  “Why’d you stay all night?”

  Out of all the things she could have said or asked, that just didn’t seem like the right question.

  I turned to her, staring right into her smoky eyes. “Because I didn’t want you to wake up here alone. No one should be alone after what you went through, and to be honest, I selfishly needed to know you were okay. I needed for you to be safe and taken care of.”

  She patted the side of her bed. “Want to sit with me for a while, Bear?”

  Her voice was meek, and there was a sadness to her that I understood. I had so many questions, so many words I wanted to say—not to comfort her, but to distract myself.

  “Yes, but in one second.”

  Walking out of her room, I shook Jaxon’s shoulder again. “Head on home, brother.”

  His groggy eyes fluttered open and he sucked in a deep breath as he woke up again.

  “You stayin’?” he asked while stretching.

  I turned to look back at the room. “Yeah, for a bit.”

  “See you at the shop later.”

  I watched Jaxon trudge down the hallway and disappear around the corner before I went back to her bedside. In silence, I took a seat in a cushioned chair under the window, looking right at her.

  “Thank you,” she muttered before wiping a tear from her cheek.

  Chapter 4

  Scarlett

  Thank you seemed like too small a phrase for the appreciation I had for the gruff stranger sitting silent in my room. It should have felt weird or wrong to have him in there, but for some reason, it felt right. When he’d walked back out to the hallway, the room had felt empty without him. Maybe being alone was just not something that was possible for me to do.

  After a few minutes, Bear pointed to my ring finger. “Would you like me to call your husband?”

  I forced a laugh. “He doesn’t deserve to know I’m alive.” Sliding the gold bands off my finger, I held them out for him to take. “These should be able to pay for the repairs on my motorcycle.” He opened his hand, letting my drop the jewelrys into his palm.

  He rolled the diamond ring around in his fingertips. “I have a feeling this rock could buy you two new hogs, darlin’.”

  I threw my hands in the air as he tried to hand them back to me. “Those are as good as a noose around my neck. Please, just take them.”

  He slid the bands into the inside pocket of his cut. I was no stranger to outlaws; my father had worn a cut for as long as I could remember. As my mind tripped back to him, Bear’s voice broke through my remembrances.

  “I’d settle for just your name, darlin’.”

  My eyes snapped to his as they bore holes in me. I was in a slight haze from the morphine drip I was on and the pain I was fighting to ignore.

  “Scarlett Keen.” I felt my words linger as my tongue formed each syllable individually.

  Bear put his hand on mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Scarlett.”

  I let my fingers naturally slide between his. The rough, calloused skin of his large hand felt comforting as I rolled my head back, embracing the simple touch of the kind stranger. The rational side of me knew this situation was incredibly strange, knew I should be on high alert with this one-percenter in my presence, but I couldn’t have cared less. There was something all too comforting about Bear.

  With my eyes shut, I sat there with my hand cradled in Bear’s. “What time did you find me?”

  “The middle of the night. I’m not quite sure on exactly what time, but it was late as hell,” he answered.

  “I can’t believe that bastard ran me off the road,” I said, more to myself than to Bear.
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  “Do you know who did this?” A sharp edge laced his question.

  I shook my head slowly, I didn’t want to admit it to myself, much less a damn stranger that my husband was the culprit. “They’re called accidents for a reason, Bear. Ask me something else.”

  “Like what?” His grip on my hand tightened.

  “Anything. I don’t care. Just distract me.” My voice was weakening as I fought a wave of pain.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “What’s your favorite dessert?”

  I smiled thinking about my brother’s apple pie then licked my lips before answering, “Homemade apple pie with vanilla bean ice cream melting on top.”

  “Damn that sounds delicious.” I could hear the smile on his face.

  “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my brother’s apple pie. It’s like angels kiss your taste buds after every damn bite.

  “That sounds like an experience and a half.”

  I nodded. “Don’t stop asking me things.” My head rolled to the side as my eyes opened into little slits. I slowly took in Bear’s features as he continued to rattle off question after question. His dark brown eyes had a black ring around the irises and when he smiled, they smiled too. He had worry lines on his forehead and deep crow’s feet around his eyes. His full beard had flecks of red and the slightest wisps of silver. I could tell the years had not been kind to him, and that he was about ten years my senior. There was something so captivating about the low timbre of his voice and the depth of his gaze.

  “What’s your favorite sport?”

  “Baseball, but only in person. I hate watching it on TV. I need to feel the energy of the crowd and smell the fresh-cut grass.”

  A light tap echoed in the small room. A nurse walked in, her sneakers squeaking with every step she took. “How are you feeling, Mrs. Keen?” she asked, gripping my chart in her hands.

  I tried to keep my eyes open but the pain forced me to slam them shut. “Ooooohhhhhhh!” I exclaimed as I gripped Bear’s hand tighter.

 

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