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Matters of the Hart (The Hart Series Book 3)

Page 8

by M. E. Carter


  The nurse looks at her with question written all over her face. “You have insurance though, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to file with it. I’d rather pay out of pocket.”

  “Annika, you do realize that’s what insurance is for. So, it doesn’t cost you thousands of dollars.”

  “No.” Her voice is more forceful this time. “No. Insurance.”

  The nurse takes a deep breath and nods once. “Okay. No insurance. And you’re sure you don’t want me to call anyone for you?”

  Annika shakes her head and the nurse presses her lips together, obviously not happy with Annika’s answer. “Well then let me go grab my other forms and your discharge paperwork, and then we’ll get you out of here. Sound good?”

  Annika nods. “Thank you.”

  As she walks out, I ask the question I’m sure both the nurse and I are wondering. “Why don’t you want to file with your insurance? It’s not my business, I’m just curious.”

  She bites her lip and resituates herself on the chair, her feet underneath her. “If I file, my dad will get the bill.”

  With those words, I have clarity.

  “If your dad gets the bill, he starts asking questions about why you’re in the hospital.”

  She nods. “And if it’s an itemized bill, it’ll give away why I’m here.”

  “You don’t want him to know?”

  She shakes her head. “Are you kidding? My dad would go ape shit. I’m the girl who took down Jimmy Fantoli with a knee to the groin in the tenth grade when he grabbed my ass in PE. I’m better than this.”

  “You were unconscious, Annika. You couldn’t fight back.”

  Her whole body seems to deflate in front of me. “I know. But it’ll break his heart. I can’t do that to him.”

  I get it. I do. Earlier tonight, I tried to get my dad to understand I’m not the guy he thought I was, and watching his disappointment. I didn’t want to explain that to him any more than she wants to explain this to her dad.

  “I understand. But promise me when that bill comes in, if you need any help, you’ll let me know. I have a lot of resources.”

  For the first time since walking in, I think I see a real smile on her face.

  “Thanks. I really appreciate that. But I do have a different favor to ask you.”

  “Sure. Hit me.”

  “Like Stacy, that nurse, said, I left my purse in my roommate’s car. I don’t have my credit card or any cash. I hate to ask since you’ve done so much already, but if you’re already going that way, can you possibly give me a ride?”

  She looks almost embarrassed to have asked. Rubbing the back of my neck, I say, “You sure you want to get in the car with me? We’ll be alone.”

  Her lips quirk to the side. “Right now, I feel safer with you than anyone else in this entire world.”

  Those words hit me like a punch to the gut. I like this girl. She’s been through something horrible, but she’s strong. She’s stubborn. And I can already tell nothing is going to keep her down.

  “Sure,” I finally say. “As soon as they discharge you, your chariot awaits.”

  Chapter Ten

  Annika

  I wanted to walk to the exit, but apparently some stupid hospital policy says I must be pushed in a wheelchair upon discharge. It’s hard to stay inconspicuous when you’re being wheeled around like a patient, even if all your bruises and stitches are covered up. Still, I don’t want to run the risk of someone I know seeing me like this.

  Fortunately, Jaxon timed it just right, and by the time Stacy wheels me through the sliding glass doors, he drives up in a cherry red Toyota Corolla.

  “Wow,” I joke when he gets out of the car to open the passenger door. “You weren’t kidding when you said my chariot would await. I always imagined it would be red.”

  He laughs, a rumbly chuckle that comes from deep within his chest. I like the sound. For whatever reason, it makes me feel like he’s strong, and tough, and can protect me, which makes me feel more confident about my decision to get in this car.

  Stacy helps me up and into the passenger seat. We say our goodbyes and before I know it, Jaxon is climbing in on the driver’s side.

  “Buckle up,” he instructs. “It’d be a shame for you to get through last night only to get seriously injured in a car accident.”

  I can’t help but notice the grimace on his face as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

  “Jaxon…”

  “Yeah, sorry,” he apologizes. “It’s probably too soon to say stuff like that.”

  “No, Jaxon. That was actually kind of funny. Don’t filter yourself around me. If something hurts my feelings or offends me, I’ll tell you. But otherwise, just be you. I don’t want anyone walking on eggshells.”

  I swear a look of admiration crosses his face when he glances over at me, but it’s gone so fast I can’t be sure.

  “What dorm are we headed to anyway?”

  “Anderson Hall, please,” I respond as my seatbelt clicks together.

  Settling into my seat, I realize my body is feeling groggy again. Dr. Thompson said it would take a few days for the effects of the drug to wear off. Now that the adrenaline of the last few hours is fading away, I really feel like I need a nap.

  My chauffeur seems to notice when he remarks, “It’s okay if you close your eyes. It’s a twenty-minute drive, and you need the sleep.”

  “From what I hear, you need sleep too,” I argue.

  “Yeah, but if I sleep, we crash.”

  I laugh. “Good point.”

  Taking his advice, I lean my head against the window, watching the world whiz by. It all looks the same as it did yesterday. Nothing has changed. It’s almost offensive; as if the entire world is disregarding my own personal hell.

  Despite my life being turned upside down, everything else has kept on going like nothing is different. But for me, nothing will ever be the same.

  Before I know it, Jaxon is calling my name.

  “Annika. Wake up, Annika, we’re here.”

  I blink my eyes open and realize I’d fallen asleep without even noticing.

  “That drive was quicker than I thought it would be.”

  He chuckles and climbs out of the car, walking around the front. Before I can even get my door open, he’s already helping me out.

  “Thanks, but you don’t have to walk me to my door. I’m perfectly capable…” I stop and groan.

  “What?”

  “I don’t have a dorm key.”

  “Huh.” He puts his hands on his hips as we look at each other trying to figure out what to do.

  Sighing, I pitch the only answer I can come up with. “Can I borrow your phone, so I can call my roommate? Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’ll answer.”

  He hands over his device without a second thought. Lauren, however, obviously thinks about it before answering, since it takes me calling three times before she finally picks up with a groggy “Hello?”

  “Lauren. Hey. Can you come let me in? My purse is in your car.”

  “Yeah, okay. Hold on.”

  She hangs up, and I’m praying she doesn’t go right back to sleep. But sure enough, as Jaxon and I walk the few steps to get to the door, it swings open. As soon as Lauren sees Jaxon standing next to me, she goes from sleepy to wide awake.

  “Hmm,” she practically purrs. “I see someone had a good night.”

  I roll my eyes when she turns to walk back through the lobby, swaying her tiny little gymnast hips in her tiny little pajama shorts. There’s not an ounce of cellulite on her. But I suppose that’s what happens when you’re a competitive gymnast and work out at least three hours a day.

  Jaxon doesn’t seem to notice as he walks next to me. “I hope it’s okay that I’m walking you all the way to your room. I’d feel more comfortable making sure you get there all the way.”

  I bite my lip, trying not to smile as I keep following Lauren up the stairs. This is probably not the most ideal time t
o feel a sense of thrill at a guy looking after me, but I can’t help it, so I’ll just take it for what it is. Even if I never see him again.

  “Where’d you get the fancy scrubs?” she asks when we get to the room and plops herself down on her bed.

  I freeze as I realize I’m wearing completely different clothes. It never crossed my mind that she would ask where mine went. Before I can come up with an excuse, Jaxon’s already ahead of me.

  “I’m pre-med. I had some laying around.”

  My head whips over to look at him. “You are?”

  Lauren makes another flirty sound. “I had no idea anyone on the football team was going to be a doctor.”

  “You’re on the football team?” How did I not think to ask these questions before?

  Lauren giggles. “You spent the night with him and you didn’t know he was a pre-med football god? Must have been one hell of a night.”

  “I…I…”

  “Third string doesn’t exactly make me a football god,” Jaxon interjects.

  Lauren waves her hand dismissively at him. “You wear the uniform. It makes you a god.”

  “Yeah.” He’s obviously feeling uncomfortable with her flirting, which is making me feel bad. Or maybe he’s just exhausted. Who knows. “Anyway, do you have a piece of paper?”

  “Um…sure.” I grab a stack of Post-it notes off my desk and a pen. He quickly uses it to jot something down and hands it back to me.

  “There’s my number. I know you don’t have a replacement phone yet, but when you get one please use this. For anything.” His eyes plead with me, and I can’t help but feel like I made a friend in all of this.

  I nod gratefully as he backs out the door.

  “See you later, Annika. Nice to meet you, Lauren.”

  “Nice to meet you too,” she says with a flirty wave of her fingers.

  As soon as the door shuts behind me, her questions begin. “Why didn’t you text me back last night? I was looking for you and you never responded.”

  “Yeah, um, sorry about that. I lost my phone.”

  She makes a face. “That sucks. But I’m glad you’re okay. And I’m glad you ended up with that fine piece of ass.”

  My lips quirk into a small smile. Leave it to Lauren to jump to the best of conclusions.

  “So, tell me all about it,” Lauren demands, forgetting about the loss of my cell. “Was it good? Was he hung? How many orgasms did you have?”

  “Lauren!” I admonish. “It wasn’t like that.”

  She crosses her arms under her tiny chest and glances at Kiersten, like our snoring guest is the reason I’m tight-lipped. “She sleeps like the dead. Tell me everything before she wakes up.”

  And that’s when the memories begin to assault me. The memories of what happened in the hospital. The memories of the camera between my legs. I close my eyes tightly, willing it all away, to no avail.

  Suddenly, despite my exhaustion, the only thing I can think about is taking a shower and ridding myself of this filth. Grabbing the shower supplies off the shelf over my dresser, I continue to play it off, like the evening was much less life altering than it actually was.

  “Forget it. You’re not getting any information out of me.”

  Lauren huffs and climbs under her covers. “Fine. I’m going back to sleep. I’m glad you ended up with Jaxon though,” she says through a yawn. “I hear he’s one of the good ones.”

  Nodding, I don’t say anything else in response. The only thing I can think about is showering.

  I practically run down the hall to the community bathroom. Fortunately, no one else on my floor is awake because suddenly, everything is becoming more real, and it feels like I’m caving in on myself. I can hardly breathe, and my heart is pounding.

  Frantically, I turn the shower on as hot as I can get it, which isn’t scalding because of the uneven ratio of people to water heaters in this dorm. I wish it was scalding as I stand under the spray and begin cleaning every square inch of myself. I use double the amount of shampoo I normally do to get the lather as thick as I can, leaving the bubbles in my hair while I use my loofa to scrub myself over, and over and over, trying to scrub the filth and memories off me.

  For the first time in my life, I shave all my pubic hair off until I'm completely bare, trying to get rid of any trace of whatever it was that was on me.

  If I could, I’d scrub my insides, too, but I can’t. So instead I get my outside as clean as possible.

  Panic begins to overwhelm me when I realize that I’m naked and alone in a community bathroom. Yes, it’s only women on our floor, but that doesn’t keep the sudden terror I feel at bay.

  Rinsing my hair of the shampoo and then conditioning as quickly as possible, I shut off the water and grab my towel, wrapping it around me as tightly as I can get it. Then I listen.

  I listen for anything that sounds unusual. Anything that might give me an indicator of lurking danger. I know in my mind I’m being ridiculous, but the fight or flight feeling is so strong, I can’t help it.

  I thought I wanted out of that hospital. I thought I didn’t want to shower with the doctors and nurses in the other room. I was wrong. I wish I had taken advantage of the safety in numbers while I was there, so I wouldn’t feel this vulnerable now.

  I’m pissed off at having this much fear. This is not who am I. Not who I want to be.

  When I don’t hear anyone in the bathroom with me, I relax just enough to throw my clothes on quickly and race out the door.

  Pippa’s words come back to me.

  Your memories will come in waves. Your feelings will come in waves. Don’t beat yourself up as you work your way through this. Whatever you feel is okay.

  But it doesn’t feel okay. Nothing about this feels okay. I just want to go to sleep and push it all away…sleep this whole nightmare away.

  As I climb into bed, Lauren peels her eyes and takes in my outfit: baggy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie sweatshirt. “Aren’t you going to get hot sleeping in that?”

  Yes.

  “No. It was really cold over there.”

  She thinks I’m talking about it being cold in Jaxon’s dorm when really, I’m talking about the hospital. But she’ll never know that as long as I can help it.

  She shrugs and buries herself under her covers, me doing the same. Pulling the hoodie as far over my head as I can get it, I hide myself under my blankets, using them as protection from the outside world.

  As sleep begins to take over, I realize my new reality is the two separate parts of my life…before last night and after last night. I’m only five minutes in, and the after is already proving to be harder than I expected.

  Chapter Eleven

  Jaxon

  “Blue 52! Blue 52!”

  My quarterback makes the call to switch the play, and I take a breath and get ready to launch off the line. I’m trying to concentrate, but Germaine has his eye on me. He’s gunning for me. I can tell already.

  “Hut, hut, HUT!”

  The scramble begins behind me as I take off running. I don’t get very far before Germaine catches up and blocks me from catching the ball. We jog to a stop as the whistle sounds and Coach starts yelling instructions. Thankfully, they aren’t at me, despite not being at my best.

  There is no way I’ll be called to dress this weekend. Not with the shitty way I’ve been playing lately.

  Germaine slaps my helmet, but with my lack of sleep, it feels more like a punch to the head.

  “What’s going on with you, Hart? Are you sick or something?” he asks as we make our way back to the line of scrimmage.

  “Nah, man,” I say as I roll out my right shoulder. I took a hit wrong yesterday, and it’s still sore. Not sore enough to make a visit to the trainer. But one more issue to deal with. “I’m just tired is all. I gotta cut back on my time at night with the ladies.” I waggle my eyebrows, but he ignores me.

  “Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been having fucking nightmares half the night for the last week.
” I stop walking. I knew I was having nightmares, but I didn’t realize he knew that. “You need to get some sleep aid or rub some lavender on your feet at night or something… Where’d you go?” He spins around when he finally realizes I’m not beside him anymore.

  I quickly catch up and try to play it all off. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll have to look into that.”

  “And buy me a fucking cup of coffee while you’re at it. You’re keeping me up at night,” he adds, swatting me on the ass as I walk by, getting back in position.

  “Red 71! Red 71! Hut, HUT!”

  The quick snap throws me off my game this time, and I fall a full two seconds behind where I should be. So much so that Germaine intercepts the ball and takes off the other way. It should be easy to catch him, but I can’t do it today.

  “Fuck!” I bellow, getting really irritated at my inability to keep up.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Steven Timen, one of the biggest douchebags on my team, yells at me. “Aren’t you a fucking Hart? Isn’t football in your blood? Stop bringing us down, man.”

  I get ready to bolt after him, all the anger and rage from the last week finally about to break free, but before I can, Germaine is in my face. “Don’t listen to him, man. He’s pissed that he got benched for this week’s game because of grades.” I take a deep breath, trying to control my anger. “He’s just a dick who thinks being raised by the great Jason Hart automatically means you’re the next super star. That’s not your dream, man. You’re not a meathead like him. Let it go.”

  Looking him in the eyes, I nod once. Germaine doesn’t say anything this time, just looks at me. He knows my issues with my dad better than anyone. Knows how much bullshit has sprung up over the years.

  That’s the great thing about having Heath Germaine as my roommate. He’s my best friend and doesn’t expect me to be anything I’m not. I help him study plays and know stats. He’s a neat freak and keeps our room spotless.

  The bad thing about having Heath Germaine as my roommate is he knows me almost too well...including my medical history, and I can see the concern for me building. Normally, it doesn’t bother me. He’s my best friend, and he doesn’t make an issue out of it. But once my dad found out that he knew, he gave Germaine his phone number, with strict instructions to call any time, day or night, if I ever got sick. I was fucking mortified. Before I could tell Germaine to lose his number because I didn’t need a fucking babysitter, he turned to my dad and said, “A buddy of mine had ALL in high school. I know what to look for.” He never asked me about it again.

 

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