by J. E. Parker
It was simple as that.
Hendrix
Covered in sweat from head to toe, I sat at the side of Maddie’s hospital bed and stared at her. “Come on, pretty girl,” I plead, “you’ve got to wake up for me.”
It had been twenty-four hours.
Twenty-four goddamn hours since the attack, and she still hadn’t woken up.
I was officially losing my mind.
Light spilled in from the hallway as someone pushed open the hospital room door. I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder to see who it was because I assumed it would be one of Maddie’s nurses.
I was wrong.
“Knock-knock.” I recognized the deep southern drawl immediately. Shelby. “How’s she doing?” Her voice was quiet and dripping with worry as she moved into the room.
“Same. Still hasn’t woken up. Her vitals are stable though.”
Moving to stand beside the bed, she placed her hands on the bed’s safety rail and peered down at Maddie. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” My head snapped back. I thought Maddie was the most beautiful girl in the world, but it was an odd thing for her to say right then. “Even busted up she still looks like an angel.” Reaching down she attempted to run her fingers through Maddie’s hair. “Did they even try to clean her hair?”
I ran my shaking hands down my face. “They ran a washcloth through it, but that was about it.”
Shelby muttered a curse under her breath. “Stupid asses. Probably didn’t want to bother with it.” Standing straight she smiled in my direction and patted her oversized purse with her right hand. “Good thing I came prepared.”
I had no idea what she was talking about. Didn’t bother to ask either.
Opening her bag, she pulled out various items including fingernail polish, body lotion, and something that looked like a shampoo bottle. “So how long has it been?” She asked, glancing over at me.
Resting my hands on my knees, I leaned back in the chair. “How long has what been?” My voice was gruff, strained. I hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten in over a day, and it was showing.
Opening the shampoo looking bottle, she dumped a small amount of the clear liquid into her palm before lifting it to her nose and inhaling. “Stuff smells so good.” She pushed her hand towards me. “Wanna smell?” I shook my head, she rolled her eyes. “Party pooper.” Rubbing both of her palms together, she continued, “This is no rinse shampoo. It’ll help get some of the blood and dirt out of her hair.”
I watched as she ran her fingers through Maddie’s hair, careful not to get too close to the scalp. “Back to what I was askin’—how long has it been since you had a drink?”
My heart stalled. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s one hell of an assumption to make about somebody. Didn’t your mama teach you some fucking manners?”
She shrugged. “My mama taught me lots of things. Mainly: ask for the money up front. Never share your dope with anybody. And my favorite—never let the police inside the trailer without a warrant.”
“Goddamn blondie,” I muttered, “and here I thought my childhood was bad.”
Shelby wasn’t fazed by my smartass comment. Shaking her head, she continued. “My mama she also taught me what withdrawal looks like. Being a cash-strapped junkie meant she’d run out of dope occasionally. When that happened, she went into withdrawal.” Her gaze met mine and I didn’t see an ounce of judgment in her eyes. Only concern. “Your hands are shaking, you’re covered in sweat, and your fidgeting. Not to mention you’re paler than Madelyn and that’s saying something.” Unable to maintain eye contact, I dipped my head forward. “You don’t look like a junkie and considering you’re a fireman your vice has to be legal, which only leaves alcohol. So,” she paused before continuing, “I’m askin’ again, how long has it been since you last had a drink?”
I didn’t even bother to lie. What was the point? She’d see straight through it. “Around thirty-six hours.”
She nodded. “How long ago did the shaking start?”
“Twelve hours.”
Again, she nodded. “That’s good. Means your almost past the toughest part.” She hummed to herself for a few seconds before continuing. “Within the next twelve hours or so it’ll start gettin’ better. But until then,” she nodded towards the small corner sink, “I suggest you drink lots of water and keep something in your stomach. Saltines work great, but a plain ol’ slice of bread will work in a pinch.” She pointed to the lone cabinet next to the sink. “Can you get me a towel outta there, sugar?” Saying nothing, I got up, grabbed a towel and handed it to her. “Thank ya.”
Gripping the back of my neck with my hand, I asked, “You a nurse or something?”
“Nope. Probably could be though. You’d be surprised what you learn growin’ up with a junkie for a parent.” She bit the end of her tongue in concentration as she patted the towel over Maddie’s damp hair. “When I was six, I learned how to tie a tourniquet around my mama’s arm so she could shoot up.” Turning around, she tossed the towel into the dirty linen hamper. “By the time I was ten, I was an expert at hittin’ her favorite vein with a dull needle.”
I dropped my arms to my sides. “Jesus Christ.”
She shook her head. “Sugar, there wasn’t no Jesus Christ involved in my upbringing. Only the devil himself.” Finished with Maddie’s hair, she stood up and smiled. “Isn’t that better?”
It was. “Yeah, it is. Thanks, Shelby.”
She waved a dismissive hand in my direction. “Madelyn’s my girl. I’d do just about anything for her.” The room fell silent for a few moments before she continued. “Ways back, she saved me from a bad situation; believed me when nobody else did.” Placing her hands back on the bed rail, she dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “If it wasn’t for her, I don’t know if me and my son would be breathin’ right now.”
“You’ve got a kid?”
She smiled so brightly the room lit up around us. “Lucca, he’s fourteen months. Little turkey just learned to walk, so he’s been keepin’ me busy chasin’ him from here to kingdom come.”
I smiled for the first time in days. “I can imagine.” I lifted the bottom of my shirt and used it to wipe some of the sweat from my face. “I always wanted a son, but Maddie only wanted girls.” I chuckled to myself. “Typical Maddie.”
Shelby’s face hardened, and I froze. What the hell was that look for? “I know you’re goin’ to think it’s none of my business, but Maddie’s my best friend, so I’m stickin’ my nose right in the middle of it.” She turned to face me. “Tell me, Hendrix, what are your intentions with her?”
She had to be shitting me.
One look at her cold face and I knew that she was, in fact, not shitting me. “You’re right. It’s not really any of your business.”
“You got a hearin’ problem or somethin’, sugar? ’Cause I’m certain I said that I’m makin’ it my business.”
I wasn’t in the mood for this shit. Maddie was in a coma, my body was rebelling because I was quitting alcohol cold turkey, Pop was acting all sorts of weird, and this chick thought she could question my motives? Exactly who the fuck did she think she was? “I appreciate you washing Maddie’s hair and all, but I don’t know you from Adam, and you damn sure don’t know me. So, don’t march your little ass in here, get in my face, and give me the fifth degree. That won’t fly with me,” I mimicked her accent, “sugar.”
Moments passed, and tension flooded the room.
Then, “You love her, don’t you?”
I nodded once. “Yes.”
She smirked before crossing her arms over her chest. “Then I suggest you do better ’cause she deserves better than the mess she’s been dealt the last half-decade.”
I didn’t know much about Maddie’s life after we split up, but one look at her and I knew that Shelby was right—Maddie deserved a hell of a lot better than she was getting.
“I’m going to fix it.”
“Fix what
exactly?”
“Everything!” I was losing my patience, and that didn’t bode well for Shelby. Though, I bet she had a temper to rival mine. Call me stupid, but there was something about her that resonated with me. Maybe it was the story she’d told me about her druggie mom. Or maybe it was the fight that I saw in her eyes.
Whatever it was, it was obvious the girl was not one to be fucked with.
“Good.” Picking up the lotion, she popped open the lid. “Why don’t you take a nap?”
“No—”
“Listen, Hendrix,” her eyes met mine and her mouth curled into a snarl, “you have big bags under your eyes, your skin is pale, and you look about two seconds away from passing out,” she gestured towards the chair with her head, “sit down and get some rest. I’ll wake you up before I leave.”
I swayed on my feet; exhaustion plagued me.
Running both hands through my hair, I walked over to the chair and sat down. “Fine,” I pointed a shaking finger at her, “but make sure you wake me up before you leave.”
“Will do.” She turned back to Maddie. “Alright, sugar, let’s get that dry skin taken care of. Just ‘cause you’re sleepin’ doesn’t mean we need to let you get all crusty.”
Leaning my head back against, I closed my eyes.
I was asleep within seconds.
Two hours later, I woke up.
Rubbing my eyes, I sat up straight and looked around the room.
Shelby was gone. That lying little shit…
I found a piece of paper crinkled in my lap when I leaned forward to stretch my back. Raising my brows, I picked it up and held it in front of me.
It was a letter.
Hendrix,
I know I told you that I’d wake you before I left, but after seeing you sleeping so well, I didn’t have the heart to do it. I left you a couple of bottles of green tea (drink them!) and a bag of bagels (eat them!) that I stole from the hospital cafeteria on the table by Madelyn’s bed.
I also left you a bottle of Ibuprofen on the back of the sink. It’ll help with the head pain and body aches. If you need anything else just call me. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be back in a few hours.
Hope you feel better soon.
All my best,
Shelby Mason
“Well I’ll be damned,” I muttered as I folded the note and slid it into my back pocket.
I leaned over the bed to check on Maddie.
Still sleeping…
I blew out a breath. “Come on, baby. You got to wake up. If you don’t, your friends are going to drive me crazy.” I smiled before frowning as my head grew light. “Shit,” I cursed as I leaned forward and lied my head on the bed by Maddie’s hip. “I need more sleep.”
Grabbing Maddie’s hand with my own, I interlaced our fingers together and closed my eyes.
Once again, I was asleep within seconds.
Maddie
I was lying on my back when I woke up.
My head was turned to the side, and my eyes were facing an unfamiliar wall.
Where am I? I thought as a low beeping sound filled the dark room. Where was that coming from? Was it the smoke alarm?
Beep… Beep... Beep…
Lord, tell me Hope hadn’t burnt toast again. Nothing smelled as bad as burnt toast. Well, except maybe burnt popcorn.
Both were disgusting in my book.
Beep… Beep… Beep…
I parted my lips to call out Hope’s name but stopped when I realized how dry my mouth was. The inside of my cheeks and palate were rougher than sandpaper, and my throat felt drier than the Sahara.
What in the world?
Blinking my heavy-lidded eyes, I lifted my head an inch or so—it’s all I could manage—from the pillow, and focused on the space surrounding me. White walls. White tiled ceiling. White, scratchy sheets. White bed rails.
Wait, a minute—was I in the hospital?
One look at the blue and white bracelet on my wrist and the IV line attached to the back of my hand answered my question.
I was so confused. Why would I be in the hospital?
I tried to rack my brain, tried to think… but then the pain hit me.
I whimpered, and nausea swamped me as my head pounded. It felt like a hundred woodpeckers had taken up residence in my skull. Physically, it was the worst pain I’d ever experienced. After taking a shuddering breath, I attempted to lift my hands to press my fingers against my temples.
Except, I couldn’t move my hands. One was attached to the IV—which I was terrified of ripping out—and the other was being held down by something.
Something big, rough, and warm.
Slowly, I rolled my head to the left. I closed my eyes when the fluorescent light from the bathroom met my eyes and caused bolts of sharp pain to shoot through the right side of my head. Moving my head faster, I rested my left cheek against the cool—albeit flat and useless—pillow.
When the sharpness skittering through my brain ebbed, and the pounding resumed, I took another shaky breath and opened my eyes.
My heart seized.
My lungs froze.
My world stopped turning.
Messy black hair. Tanned skin. Broad shoulders.
Hendrix…
The sound of the monitors next to me began to speed up, completely in sync with my rapidly increasing heart rate.
I had to be dreaming. I mean, he couldn’t be here. He’d left me, walked away. Never answered any of my calls, never replied to the emails I’d sent him.
Yeah, I had to be dreaming. That explained it.
I wasn’t really in the hospital, wasn’t really lying in bed with an IV in my arm. But I didn’t normally feel pain in my dreams. Terror? Yes. Pain? No.
So why the heck was I feeling it now?
’Cause you’re lucky like that, the voice in my head whispered.
Blinking once, I lifted the two fingers that he didn’t have clasped in his hand and ran them down the side of his cheek. It was as far as I could reach.
The stubble coating his jaw tickled my skin and a warmth spread through the center of my chest. I missed him so damn much. I traced my fingers down the length of his cheekbone and over the hollow of his cheek where I knew a dimple appeared every time he smiled. I lightly touched the corner of his mouth and a memory flashed before my eyes.
Head tilted to the right, and with a firm hold, he gave me my first kiss.
Hendrix Cole. My next-door neighbor. My best friend. And the cutest boy I’d ever seen.
He. Was. Kissing. Me!
What I’d give to go back to that moment, just to experience it one more time. Long as I lived, I’d never forget the way my heart stalled in my chest the moment his lips touched mine or the way the world below my feet seemingly dropped away as his hands clutched my hips.
Looking back, I think that was the moment our souls claimed one another.
My fingers continued to lightly move along his warm skin while my eyes soaked up every inch of his handsome face. I wanted to memorize every little detail so that when I woke up, I wouldn’t forget that for just a moment in time, he came back.
My fingertips scratched his stubble for the second time when his cheek twitched. I stilled. No! Please don’t wake up! Every time I dreamed of him, I always woke up the moment he saw me. I wasn’t ready for it to be over. Not yet. I needed more time!
I held my breath as his eyelashes fluttered. Please keep sleeping.
My stomach rolled when his eyes popped open and in one quick movement, he jerked his head up.
Whiskey brown eyes met mine. It was about to be over, and when it was, my heart would once again shatter into a million jagged little pieces.
“Maddie…” Tears filled my eyes. I’d missed his voice so dang much. “Fuck, baby, don’t cry.” He jumped up from the chair he was sitting on, lowered the rail on the bed, planted his big hands on both sides of my body, and leaned over me.
Moments passed.
Seconds ticked by.
His eyes darkened. “You have any idea how long I’ve waited for this moment?” I didn’t respond. Between my lead filled tongue, sandpaper mouth, and pounding heart, I couldn’t have uttered a single syllable if my life had depended on it.
“Goddamn it, Maddie,” his face moved closer, and his minty breath danced across my face, “where the hell have you been?” I closed my eyes. His nearness, his intensity, it was all too much. “Uh-uh, open those beautiful eyes for me, baby.” Even when dreaming, I couldn’t disobey him. Our eyes met, and the specks of gold dotted across his irises seemed to glow. “That’s right, look at me, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl… My heart skipped a beat—or two.
I inhaled, and his scent invaded my nose. He smelled like home.
For so long, Hendrix was home.
“I’ve looked everywhere, asked everyone.” He shook his head. The muscles in his neck were corded. “All this time you were in the next county.” The vein in his temple protruded. “Six years I’ve lost,” he paused, “and you were only thirty goddamn minutes away.” Wait one dang minute. He’d lost six years? “But no more. No goddamn more. You’ll be lucky if I let you go to the bathroom alone from now on.”
His words repeated on a loop in my pounding head.
Then it hit me… This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t a dream at all.
Every single bit of it was real.
Hendrix—he was here, his big body hovering above me, his beautiful face inches from mine.
He. Was. Here.
And if he was here, that meant that I really was in the hospital.
I lifted a shaky hand to touch my head.
When my fingertips met soft bandages, Hendrix grabbed my wrist and yanked it back. “Don’t touch it, pretty girl.”
More tears filled my eyes, and I ignored the bolts of pain that ricocheted through my skull as I shook my head back and forth.
This wasn’t happening.
He wasn’t here.
I wasn’t hurt.
“Maddie talk to me. What’s wrong?”
My chest cracked wide open as he looked down at me with those soulful eyes that I used to love so much. That I still loved so much.
