AMAZING HEART (Broken Bottles Series Book 4)

by Pamela Taeuffer

  "Why did you take an EKG?" I asked. "You keep talking about head injury and yet . . ."

  "Because you collapsed. In my experience, that's indicative of exhaustion or circulatory problems. The doctor agreed."

  "I see. And where is the doctor?"

  "She left, however I may be able to reach her cell phone. Do you want me to try?"

  "No, that's okay."

  "Any idea why you passed out?"

  "No. Well . . . yes." I reconsidered my short response, deciding that she needed to have some input so she could do her job. "I haven't been eating or drinking very well."

  "Your blood pressure is high; do you have a history of hypertension?"

  "Uh, no, not that I know of." The cobwebs started to clear from my head. I blinked hard a few times. "I think it's because I didn't hydrate properly."

  "Except for your blood pressure, your vitals are good. The IV will replenish your electrolytes and minerals. You'll need to take it easy for the next few days. No cheering tomorrow. I want you to relax here for a while. I'll let you know when it's okay to leave."

  I nodded in agreement and lay my head down.

  "Tara Summers and Alexandra Flowers are outside the door." Graciela peeked in. "You up for company?"

  "Sure."

  "I'll be back in ten minutes. By the way, did anyone tell you how you got here?" She stopped writing her notes and looked up at me.

  "No, I don't . . . uh . . . no, I can't remember." I was still a little dazed. "Did I walk?"

  "You weren't in any shape to walk on your own. You were unconscious."

  "Right," I confirmed. "You said that."

  "Ryan Tilton carried you."

  What?

  "Are you related?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  "We're not related." I imagined being carried in Ryan's big arms in front of forty thousand people.

  What is he trying to prove? He cheats on the road and now he tries to show his fans he's my savior? I'm so confused.

  "Everyone is talking about it," she said as if a gossip reporter. “Someone sure made an impression.”

  “We’re just friends,” I said dully.

  Well, we were.

  “Whatever you say, Ms. Young.” Graciela eyeballed me doubtfully.

  Big deal, he's the cause of all this because he couldn't keep it in his pants. Maybe his date canceled tonight and he has nothing better to do than look good to the fans.

  I heard Graciela tell Tara and Alex what my room number was. They both rushed in and hugged me immediately.

  "Oh honey, are you okay?" Tara stroked my hand.

  "My blood pressure is high. Other than that, I just feel stupid."

  "We feared the worst," Alex smoothed my hair. "It looked terrible. Everyone was on top of you and you were all twisted in a pile . . . oh, poor girlfriend."

  "Nicky," Tara held onto my hand as if for her life depended on it. She had tears in her eyes. "I was so afraid for you. We all were. Your body was just . . . awkward."

  All this worry—Guess it looked serious.

  "Your girlfriends wanted to stay. We told them to go home," Alex informed. "You don't need to hear all of them going on and on with their high-pitched voices."

  "Ah," I gagged. "I'm . . . sick. Can you hand me—"

  "Here," Tara handed me a plastic barf container and both women turned away as I proceeded to fill it.

  "Guess she needs a little more rest, ladies," Graciela came back in the room to check my IV. Her eyes glanced at the container on my belly. "I'll get something for your nausea," she lowered her voice. "Say your goodbyes. Back in a minute."

  "Sorry you guys. I don't want you to go, but . . ." I winced as I looked at them. "Can one of you call my mom to tell her I'm okay? I'll call her when I'm ready to be picked up."

  "Do you want us to stay and give you a ride home?" Tara volunteered.

  "No, I'm sure Jenise is already on her way, but thanks for offering."

  "You sure?" Tara tested. I could see the doubt on her face.

  "Yes."

  When I'm ready, I'll call home. Right now it feels good just to lay here. I don't want to be rushed or an inconvenience for anyone. Besides, who knows what's going on at home? I'm better off staying away from there.

  "We'll talk tomorrow," Alex commanded, and then gave me a hug. Tara did the same. "When you get home, tell those girlfriends to leave you alone."

  "I will." I giggled softly at their insistence. "I love you guys."

  "Love you, too," both chimed in at the same time and started to leave the room.

  "Jinx," I said weakly.

  "Personal jinx," they retorted and then blew me a kiss.

  "You should feel better soon." Graciela came back and injected anti-nausea medication into the clear, plastic IV tube. "Only a few more minutes and we'll discharge you."

  "You just said nausea . . ."

  "Yes, but you don't have any of the other signs, right?" she double-checked my responses. "Don't hide anything."

  "I'm not. No other signs."

  Just this headache, but no one in my family goes to the hospital and I'm not about to be the trendsetter. I wonder why neither of my friends mentioned Ryan carrying me up here? Maybe Graciela was pulling my leg.

  When she left the room, I could tell the baseball game was over. The fans were leaving the stadium. Echoes of empty rang through the corridor; the upper decks creaked with sighs of relief, loud speakers quieted, the voices that had been alive with thunderous cheers and the footsteps that had stomped in excitement, were extinguished.

  The memory of my father's fall pushed forward: Do I call the police? Dad? Are you alive?I wasn't sure how much time had passed when the door opened.

  "Is it okay if I go now?" I didn't raise my head.

  No response.

  "Does everything check out?"

  I lifted my head.

  Ryan.

  Chapter 19

  An Agreement

  He wore an orange janitor's uniform and also a hoodie. It covered his head and most of his face. From the click I heard, I assumed he'd locked the door.

  Oh, God.

  "What do you want?" I tried to sit up. Between the IV in my arm and my light-headedness I stayed flat on the bed. "I told you to stay away from me. You played your game and toyed with my heart. You got me. Please go."

  He took the cloth off my forehead. Slid his arms underneath my gown and around my back. Held me. The moment seemed frozen. His eyes were fixed on mine.

  Damn it. His hands . . . I love them . . . miss them.

  My heart raced. I was fragile. Vulnerable. Had to be strong.

  "Can you sit up for a minute?" His voice was quiet and calm.

  "No,” I kept my tone as cold as my heart felt. "I'm not supposed to."

  "Then I'll continue to hold you until you listen to me." His voice had the bite of authority.

  Like hell; I'll support myself even if I barf all over you.

  "Please leave me alone," I begged, changing tactics. "I'm asking you nicely. I'm throwing up and feel like crap. It would serve you right if . . . what do you want?"

  He put his hands on my cheeks. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see his warm expression, giving me a false assurance of security.

  "Open your eyes and look at me," he commanded.

  "I'm done with all that." My lip curled in a sneer. "Your false promises damn near destroyed what little faith I have left in people."

  "I'm asking you to look at me," his voice softened. His masculine hands gently squeezed my back. "I deserve that, don't I? Please look at me."

  "Why should I?" I opened my eyes and then immediately looked away. "You're not the man I thought I knew."

  He pulled his hood down. Turned my face toward him. When I saw how distraught he looked it saddened me, but almost immediately, I was glad. I wanted him to hurt like I'd been.

  "You know there's more to what happened." His darkened eyes raised the hairs on my neck. I knew I was in for a battle. "Se
arch yourself. I wouldn't do what you accused me of doing."

  "I heard this same crap at Java House, Ryan." Not wanting to be taken down by his lies, I continued to lash out. "I thought you were an honest man, but now I know better. Try your broken record on someone else."

  "Why are you doing this to me?" His stare was unwavering.

  “Look in the mirror.” Ice hung on my words.

  "Why do you keep cutting me out of your life?"

  “Your girlfriend’s text told me everything I need to know.” I tried to wipe my tears. "I'm done with you. I don't care about your explanation. I begged you not to use me." My bottom lip quivered. "I didn't matter enough. I lost you on the road. I knew I would."

  "I'm right here."

  "Go build up your ego with Jesse and all the others you need. I don't care." I could feel my body tighten as if cramping from head to toe. "I'm sick. You made me sick."

  My sobs began to crest.

  I completely unraveled in front of him.

  As much as I tried to remain callous, it was clear.

  I cared.

  "I know you're angry. You're wrong about what happened." His voice quavered. He seemed to have a hard time staying focused. "You will see me tonight and listen to what I have to say. I've waited all week for you to return my call. I've phoned and texted you dozens of times, leaving message after message. Even after our long discussions about talking through our challenges, you're still unwilling to listen to anyone's explanation one you decide is true. You say you love me, but you've cut me off—again. Whether or not you believe me, we're through with this dance of advance and retreat. It ends tonight."

  "Listen to me and listen to me good." I lifted my chin with defiance. "I. Don't. Want. Us." It was as if I moved in and out of reality. "Please leave me alone. Let me recover." He caressed my spinning head without speaking. "You can't be serious," I tried pulling away from him. "Ow." I put my hand to my head.

  "Your head hurts?" His face flushed. "What . . ." He read the chart Graciela left hanging over the edge of my bed. Anger washed through his eyes. His cheeks reddened. Worry followed. "Why didn't they—" he refocused. His stare was firm. "When you're done here I want you to come to my apartment."

  "I'm supposed to melt in your arms when I get there? I won't get weak. No more. No more."

  "Shh, sweet Nicky, shh. I never lied to you."

  "You did," I insisted. "You said no other woman mattered. If you commit to someone, you don't relieve yourself with a past girlfriend because you can't get the current one to sleep with you."

  "Oh, yeah?" There was a new tone of challenge in his voice. "You committed to me?"

  "You know I did," I replied confidently.

  "You told Jerry it was over? I don't think that's what happened, was it? In fact, didn’t you walk away to hug him, leaving me standing in the parking lot waiting for you? Didn't I see him pull you close?"

  "I didn't let him!" Pain radiated through my head. "Ow." I cried harder. The ache throbbed. "When I could, I pulled away. He gave me a friendship ring and pledged his loyalty. I wouldn't even wear it when I went out with him. Can you imagine the hurt he felt?"

  "So you did go out with him after I left. You—"

  "I did what I needed so I could get to you! All I wanted was you." I gasped. My head pounded and my body jerked in my despair. "I told my mother I loved you and that I was coming on your road trip and I meant it. I would have. I fought my Mom harder than I ever had, standing for what I wanted—you. I only needed two days. Before those two days ended, you texted me and told me to stay home. You didn't want me." Oh, my head. I shouldn't have raised my voice. "Until the parking lot, I hadn't committed to you, and—"

  His fingers rubbed my temples.

  "Where does it hurt?" he asked softly.

  "There." I closed my eyes. "You're on it." Keep going. I could lie here all night.

  I thought about that statement I'd made about commitment. I had wanted Ryan from the first time he'd taken me to Yountville to volunteer. Although I hadn't declared it to him out loud, ever fearful to do so, I'd done it in my heart. What did my words, "until the parking lot," mean? Did Ryan have a right to be as frustrated with me as I was with him?

  "You said you weren't seeing anyone. How many times did I hear you say you'd cut off your relationships? Should I have followed your lead and taken on both Jerry and Ethan?" Each word was loaded with sarcasm. "You'd have dropped me like a hot potato. I can hear it now. Wouldn't you tell me goodbye because then I'd be used goods?"

  "Tonight," Ryan ignored my jabs, "when the nurse releases you, Manny will walk you to the security lot and escort you to my apartment. I'll be there as soon as I can. Afterward, if you don't believe what I say and don't want me, I'll stay away and I'll fuck off like you asked."

  I didn't know what to do with the ache I felt from him. I was confused about my own suffering.

  “No, my mother will—"

  “I’ve already called your mom," he informed.

  “She only told you what you wanted to hear. Jenise or Mom will be here any minute. They don't believe your lies, either.”

  We both know they won't come. He told Mom he's taking care of me and that's enough. Jenise would have backed off, hoping I'd let Ryan take care of me and begin our relationship again. For my parents? As long as someone else handled the trauma, it was enough. If I seem okay, I am. Our mantra? Don't involve too many "outsiders." Family secrets might spill.

  "You'll hear me out," he demanded. "You can make your decision about the man you think I am after you listen to me. If you want us to turn to ashes, I'll let us go." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "How could you think I wouldn't come to you, Nicky? My heart almost stopped when you passed out. I can’t let you fade from my life and I won't. You told me you wanted someone to fight for you and I am. Just like you wanted." He massaged my temples again and I closed my eyes. "I planned to come to your house tomorrow. When you fell, I knew I couldn't wait. Hear me out and then if you want it, I'll be dead to you forever." He dropped his head. Lowered his voice. "Like you asked."

  "Just take me in your car, Ryan. I don't feel well enough to argue. I won't run." As I looked at him, I saw complete surrender in his eyes. I couldn't be cruel or harsh any longer. Even though I didn't trust him, the hurt he wore on his face was real.

  "I need to do something first," he announced. "I'll see you in a little while."

  And just like he'd come in, undetected and invisible in his disguise, he slipped out of the medical office the same way. Judging by the remaining quiet, no one recognized him. My hands shook. My breathing was shallow. Raw anxiety possessed my body.

  * * * * *

  His eyes were fixed.

  Open stare.

  Is he breathing?

  Dad?

  Are you alive?

  * * * * *

  The more I thought about going to Ryan's apartment, the more nervous I became. I wasn't interested in listening to his explanation of why he slept with Jesse. The stress from having to talk with him made my neck and shoulders tighten as if under the clench of invisible fists.

  Once again, I'd have to go up in the elevator women's sighs.

  This time, instead of heaven, I was certain I would enter hell.

  Chapter 20

  The Final Stages of Release

  During an unusually hot night in San Francisco, I'd tormented Tara's mother, Elaine, with a myth that told how warm weather brought earthquakes.

  When all was said and done, the fairy tale had come true.

  I was shaken.

  When it came to trusting others, the smooth path to my future was cracked and jagged.

  I couldn't understand the changes that came suddenly nor control them.

  God, I desperately wanted to.

  "You will," my Evil Twin whispered. "You will."

  The entire interaction between Ryan and me seemed slow and drawn out like a preacher's sermon at Sunday mass but in reality had lasted only a few minutes.
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  "How are you feeling now?" Graciela asked her final questions while taking my vitals once again. "Still dizzy or nauseous?"

  Didn't you hear voices in here? I want to tell you I feel like hell but I need to get out of here so I can get on with my life.

  "I haven't thrown up since you put that stuff in my IV." I did my best to sound upbeat and happy. "Can I use my phone?"

  Just let me push the reset button so I can go to college boyfriend free.

  "Looks like your IV drip finished. Let's take care of that and then you can make your call," she said confidently. She took the needle out of my arm, put some cotton over the entry point and covered it with a bandage. "Are you calling someone for a ride?"

  "It's all taken care of," I reassured.

  "I'll need you to sign the release forms on your way out. Your uniform is on a hanger over there." She pointed to my jersey and shirt.

  "Thanks for everything, Graciela."

  Her nod was an acknowledgment of a job well done. She left the room.

  I considered leaving my uniform on the hanger and walking out of the stadium in only the medical gown. Doing so would be my symbolic gesture of closing the door on my cheer team idea. Dirty—it was if my dream had been dragged through dull colors. I hadn't envisioned this gloom on my original pallet and didn't want it on my life's canvas.

  "Mom, did you talk to Ryan?" I phoned home to double-check the two of them had spoken.

  "Yes and I’m not at all happy with that man," she huffed.

  That makes two of us.

  "Why didn't one of your friends stay with you? What's wrong with them, leaving you there by yourself?"

  Can you finally see how injured I am?

  "I'm not alone. I told my friends to go because I'm going to Ryan's apartment."

  "Let me speak with him," she demanded, as if having me in the room with him would change the conversation they'd already had.

  "He was just here, but had to go to a meeting." So many lies rolled off my tongue I wondered what number of rosaries I'd have to say for my penance to forgiveness. "His friend, Manny will drive me."