by Jessi Gage
“It’s my fault,” Cade said behind him.
Derek looked up to find Cade’s eyes hard as ice.
“She didn’t want me to read this.” He held up a crumpled piece of paper.
Derek recognized the note he’d put in with the flowers this morning and snatched the letter from Cade’s hand. “Can’t say I blame her. It wasn’t meant to end up exhibit A.”
So that was why Camilla had gotten out of bed. Shit. If he’d known it would lead to her getting hurt, he never would have written it. He’d wanted to reassure her that he remembered their time together. It had occurred to him she might not remember anything, and he would come off looking like an idiot, but the risk had been worth it. He hadn’t considered how crazy the letter would sound to anyone else. It was his heart on that page, exposed for Camilla alone. The violation of Cade’s reading it had a vise clamping around his lungs.
“Don’t worry,” Cade said. “She’s not going to sue. Congratulations. You manipulated her into caring. She refuses to take you to court for what she deserves. What the fuck, man? What’s with the crazy love shit in there? Are you nuts or something? Are you trying to mess with her head?”
Anger bubbled under his skin. A string of curses shoved at the backs of his teeth, but he swallowed them and mentally counted to ten. He’d decided to get a head start on the class by Googling anger management techniques. The counting thing had sounded cliche, but oddly, it seemed to be working. By the time he got to six, he no longer wanted to bury his fist in Cade’s male-model-perfect face, and by the time he reached ten, he’d regained the ability to focus on what was important here, or rather who. Camilla.
Cade didn’t matter. Derek shouldn’t have to defend his private note. He shouldn’t have to, but he would. Cade meant nothing to him, but he meant something to Camilla. And it made her look foolish to let her brother believe they were strangers.
“Did it occur to you your sister and I might have a history outside of the accident?” He managed to keep his volume civil, but Cade would understand from his tone he had questionable control of his anger.
Cade scoffed. “You saying you and Cami were involved?”
Before witnessing her reaction to him a few minutes ago, he might have hesitated. Not now. “Not were. Are.”
Cade grimaced with open disdain.
The urge to wipe that look off his face had his fists clenching so hard his fingernails dug into his palms. The note wilted in his sweaty grip.
“Yeah, right,” Cade spat. “You just happen to accidentally cut off your girlfriend on the highway. That’s likely.” His gaze became calculating. “Unless you had a fight or something, and you planned a little payback.”
“Watch it,” Derek warned. His voice had become a growl. Take it easy. Remember who’s important here. “It was an accident. One I caused because of a bad decision. I was being impatient and taking it out on the other drivers on the road. Your sister happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and trust me, I had no idea. If I knew then what I know now—”
Rage spun out toward Cade and in toward himself. A hurricane of anger threatened to rip him to pieces. He paused to bring himself under control and did a quick ten-count. “You have no idea how bad I wanted to mess myself up after I figured out it was Camilla who got hurt.”
Cade studied him, giving him an idea how it might feel to be cross-examined by the guy. For all Derek wanted to hate him, he’d bet Cade was a decent lawyer. And a decent brother. In some ways.
Finally, Cade blew an agitated breath out his nose. “You’re wrong. I have more than an idea.” His gaze drifted to the service elevator doors.
Silence pressed the walls of the lobby until Derek said, “She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter.”
A look cut between them. They’d reached a tentative truce for now. The war was far from won, but this battle had come to a halt under the white flag of mutual concern.
He forced himself to sit down. Nothing he could do now, but wait for news of Camilla’s condition.
Cade sat a few chairs away, his eyes and thumbs glued to his smart phone.
The minutes crawled by with painful cruelty. When the clock edged toward four, the time he was supposed to pick Haley up from her mother’s house, he had to make a decision. Leave and be terrible company for Haley this evening, or call Deidre and do what he’d never done before, voluntarily give up one of his nights with his little girl.
Before he could decide, Cade looked up from his phone. “Heads up,” he said. “Our mother’s on her way. She just texted from the parking lot.”
Great. One more complication. He’d come clean to Cade, but he didn’t relish telling Camilla’s mother he was the one who had put her daughter in the hospital…and that he loved her. He’d have to tell her eventually, but now probably wasn’t the time for a moment of revelation worthy of reality TV. He stood to go.
“What are you going to tell her?” Derek asked.
“About you?”
He figured Cade wouldn’t go there for the same reason he was planning to get out of Dodge. “About what happened in there.”
Cade’s jaw went rigid.
Maybe it was shitty of him, but it gave him a little satisfaction to see the guy squirm.
Cade hissed a long, drawn out curse, and Derek’s satisfaction softened around the edges.
“Hey, whatever, man.” He spotted the exit sign a few paces behind where Cade sat. Presumably the door led to a stairwell—he didn’t want to run into Camilla’s mother in the elevator in case she recognized him from their brief interaction in the hall yesterday. He paused as he walked past Cade. “I don’t suppose you’d give me a call when you hear something.” It made his lungs tighten to have to ask Cade for a favor. But he pushed through the irritating sensation by remembering once more what was most important: Camilla.
The elevator made a soft bing. Not wanting to take a chance Camilla’s mother would step out and see him talking to Cade, he dropped the letter into Cade’s lap and slipped through the stairwell door. He hated to put the letter back in Cade’s hands, but his phone number was on it.
Cade hadn’t given him an answer, but maybe, just maybe he’d cut Derek a little slack.
Or, he thought as he pounded down the stairs, Cade might use the letter and a creative retelling of events to make sure he’d would never have a fighting chance where Camilla’s mother was concerned.
As he pulled out of Mercy Med’s parking lot, his stomach was in knots over Camilla, and he still hadn’t made up his mind whether he was up to entertaining Haley tonight. His truck knew the way to Deidre’s house, though, so that’s where he found himself a few minutes after four.
After angling his truck into the driveway, he spotted Haley in the shade of the front porch. She had on shorts and a purple t-shirt that matched her cast. She was lying on her stomach with a glass of lemonade at her elbow, and writing in a notebook. He’d been right; the cast wasn’t slowing her down one bit.
The sight of his Haley-girl, so carefree and cute, eased the pressure squeezing his lungs.
He might not be such bad company tonight, after all. But would Cade call when Camilla woke up? If hell froze over and he did, he wanted to be able to go to her at a moment’s notice. He’d been waiting too long to see her.
His lungs squeezed again.
“Hey, Dad!” Haley scrambled up and bounded over to greet him as he climbed down from his cab.
“Hey, kiddo!” He squeezed her in a long hug. “How’s the arm?”
“It’s sore, but I don’t like the pain meds. They make me sleepy.” She shrugged and ran up the porch steps yelling, “Hey, Mom! Dad’s here!”
She came back a minute later with her backpack stuffed to overflowing, ready to spend the weekend with her old dad. His heart smiled.
“Something wrong?” Haley asked. She stood in front of him with her head cocked. “You look—” Her brow furrowed. “Sad?” She made it a question.
He opened his mouth to deny it,
but Haley, as usual, was one step ahead of him. She gasped. “It’s the woman with red hair, isn’t it?” She bounced on her toes. “Oh, tell me, tell me, tell me. Did you help her move on? Is she gone?”
Unease made his gut wriggle. He didn’t want to talk about Camilla with Haley. But he couldn’t exactly avoid it. Haley had seen her. Hell, Haley had even had a theory, Camilla was supposed to help him move past something— Maybe Haley had been right. Camilla had vanished from his room the moment he’d decided to turn himself in for the accident.
“Is who gone?” Deidre came out of the house wearing a trendy floral-print apron and wiping her hands on a dishtowel.
“Dad’s girlfriend,” Haley threw over her shoulder. Facing him, she mouthed in an exaggerated way, “I didn’t tell Mom she’s a ghost.”
He felt the blood drain from his face.
Deidre said, “Girlfriend, huh?”
He started shaking his head, not in denial, because he would never deny association with Camilla, but in shock that this conversation was happening.
“Haley mentioned you were seeing someone. Why didn’t you tell me? It’s about time.”
Her smile fell as she met his eyes. “Jesu—uh, wow, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”
“Dad?” Haley was concerned now too. Great.
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he said. To Haley, he said, “Hey, kiddo, mind if I have a talk with your mom?”
“Yeah, okay,” she said. “I’m going to look for my sparkly flip flops again,” she said as she ran back inside.
He watched her go then looked at Deidre.
“What’s up?” she said.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, not knowing where to start or even whether he should start at all. Maybe he should just get Haley into his truck and run for it. He and Deidre had a good conversation last night. He didn’t want to push his luck by trying for another.
“That bad, huh?” Her expression warmed with a knowing smile. For all their problems, she was probably the person who knew him best.
He blew out a breath, giving a brief smile of his own. At the very least, he owed her an explanation for his mood, or she might worry about Haley going off with him. “My…girlfriend, Camilla, she’s in the hospital.” Keep it simple, stupid. Just like with Cade.
“Oh no. Are you okay? How long have you been seeing this woman? Want to sit down?” She inclined her head to the porch swing, so he headed that way.
“We haven’t been together long,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “As for whether I’m okay, I think the jury’s out.” Mentioning a jury made him cringe. Camilla was in the hospital, maybe back in a coma. He had a court date barreling down on him next week. All his fault. He whispered a curse. “I’m a mess.”
When Deidre didn’t reply, he glanced at her. She studied him thoughtfully. “If your girlfriend is in the hospital, what are you doing here?”
The question took him off guard. “I’m always here on Friday afternoons—or at one of Haley’s games.”
She shook her head, a rueful smile quirking her lipsticked mouth. “Jeez, Derek. Did it ever occur to you to take a weekend off now and then?”
She had asked him on occasion if he minded giving up a weekend so she could take Haley on vacation or to visit extended family across-state, but he’d never asked before. It honestly hadn’t occurred to him. There was nothing he’d rather do than be with Haley…maybe until now.
“It doesn’t have to be an emergency for you to take a weekend off. Or a night, even. And it’s not a sin to want to be there for someone else.”
She was so damn perceptive it was creepy. “How do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Know what I’m thinking?”
She snorted. “It’s all over your face. You’re worried about Camilla and you think Haley—or I—won’t understand you wanting to be with her right now.”
“I don’t want to lose time with Haley.”
“So you’ll make it up some night this week. Or you’ll take her on a trip to visit your parents and keep her for a long weekend. We’ll figure it out.”
Pressure released from his lungs. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. I don’t have anything going on tonight, and even if I did, it sounds like you have an emergency to deal with, and that comes first.”
“Can I call you tomorrow? If Camilla’s condition doesn’t improve, I’d like to see Haley then and keep her for the night like usual.”
“Yes, of course.” She put her hand on his knee. “I’m sorry. She must be in bad shape. What happened to her?”
He gulped. “Car accident.”
“That sucks. That really sucks. I’m sorry,” she said again. “Are you okay?”
He nodded.
“You want to tell Haley about tonight?” she asked.
“Yeah. I need to tell her about my arrest, too.”
She stood up to get Haley and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll go get you some lemonade. Want some cookies? Fresh out of the oven.”
It was ninety-five degrees out and humid as hell. “Lemonade will be fine,” he said, shaking his head at her baking enthusiasm. She always said houses sold better when they smelled like cookies, but he knew her guilty secret. She loved baking, whatever the time of day, whatever the weather. It used to drive him crazy since he didn’t like sweets, but now he thought it was a pretty cool quality for a mother to have.
A few minutes later, Haley had taken her spot on the porch swing. He took a fortifying sip of tart, perfectly pulpy sweetness. “Would you be too disappointed if you stayed here with your mom tonight?”
She made a pouty face she was getting a little too old to pull off. “But I want to see your ghost again. I want to talk to her. I want to ask her what it’s like to be dead and why she picked you to watch over.”
He looked at his little girl in awe. She was curious and brave and sweeter than his drink.
“Well, Haley—” he stumbled over how to begin and decided to just spit it out. “Her name is Camilla, and she’s not dead.” He hoped like hell that remained true for a long, long time. “She was in a car accident, and she’s very sick. I want to be able to run to the hospital if she needs me tonight.” Sudden inspiration struck. “She was there for me when I had those nightmares. Now I want to return the favor. Know what I mean?”
She nodded. Then she smiled her goofy smile. “You lo-ove her,” she sang. Getting serious, she said, “Will she be okay?” She’d accepted Camilla’s status among the living with lightning speed.
“I hope so.” Now for the hard part. “There’s more, kiddo.” His neck burned with shame. “The accident, it was kind of my fault.”
Haley frowned.
He elaborated, telling her about Friday. He told her more than he’d told anyone else. There was no reason not to. She already knew he struggled with anger. She ought to see the serious effects of that kind of struggle. He didn’t want her ever to make the kind of mistakes he’d made, hurting someone by accident because of a selfish, proud decision. If she learned something from all this, maybe there was a purpose in it.
She listened with her face so serious, she reminded him of himself. When he finished, she said, “She came to you that night. Friday night was the first time, wasn’t it?”
He nodded.
“And the dreams, they were about the accident weren’t they?”
Another nod.
“Wow,” she said.
“Wow is right.”
Haley then proceeded to ask a million questions, most of which revolved around what had happened after Camilla woke up. He thanked his lucky stars she didn’t seem curious about how they’d spent the nights during her coma. He told her in simple terms about the flowers he’d sent, about meeting Camilla’s brother, and about her taking a turn for the worse this afternoon.
His soul ached as he talked. He needed his dream girl to pull through this.
Haley hugged him. “I think s
he’ll be okay, Dad.”
He kissed her head and inhaled her warm scent, like clean laundry, the outdoors and boundless energy. His little girl was a salve for his worried heart.
“You should go be with her now,” she said.
“You don’t mind?”
“No. I’ll meet her later, when she’s out of the hospital.”
Such faith. He decided to borrow some of it. “Sure thing, kiddo.”
He went home and shoveled in some dinner. When dark fell, he climbed onto his bed fully clothed and settled in for a wait. Either Camilla was back in a coma and she would appear in his room, or Cade would call to say she’d woken up. He refused to consider the possibility that the night would pass without any news on his dream girl.
Chapter 19
Cami watched herself from a vantage point that was somehow several feet above where the ceiling ought to be. Earlier, a team consisting of Dr. Grant, two interns, and several nurses had worked on her in her IMCU room, where Dr. Grant chased off a shell-shocked Cade and a Derek so worried she wished she could wrap her arms around him and kiss away the line between his eyebrows. Then they’d wheeled her to CAT scan, where she was diagnosed with new swelling on the brain, proclaimed to be comatose again and put back in the ICU on the fifth floor.
Monitors were attached to her so she could be watched from the nurses’ station, and Dr. Grant told the charge nurse, a matronly woman named Melissa, to keep the breathing machine handy just in case. They hadn’t reintubated her, which pleased her, but Dr. Grant instructed Melissa to restrain her to the bed the moment she woke up, and that did not please her. She wanted to tell them she’d learned her lesson—she wouldn’t be getting out of bed any more without that awful helmet on, but when she said so, no one heard her.
Not long after Dr. Grant left with the interns, Cade came in with her mother. Since flowers weren’t allowed in the ICU, her mother didn’t get a chance to ask about Derek’s bouquet. Where it had ended up, she had no idea. Instead of awkward questions about her personal life, she was treated to the spectacle of her mother weeping and Cade awkwardly comforting her and slipping guilty glances toward the bed every so often. Despite her mother asking several times how such a thing could have happened, Cade never told her. “She just fell, Mom,” he said. “It happened so fast.” True, but if omission were an Olympic sport, he would have won the gold.
