Use Somebody

by Beck Anderson

  Then I throw up. But it’s all okay because Macy and I, we said we loved each other and I feel warm and safe and she remembered her CPR, thank Jesus.

  I close my eyes for a nap while we ride in the ambulance.

  The nap must be a long one. When I come to, I’m in a bed. No one’s in the room.

  Great. I’ve been stuck in an institution.

  Then I tilt my head, just a tiny movement, and it feels as though I’ve brought a Ping driver solidly through the front of my skull.

  “Holy—” I can’t even finish the thought, because opening my mouth has brought on another shooting bolt of lightning.

  Macy pops up from somewhere. I didn’t see her anywhere, but now I’m terrified to try to turn my head to see where she came from. “Don’t talk. The doctor thinks you might have a hairline fracture in your jaw or cheekbone.”

  I’d nod, but Jesus. I blink a couple times.

  “Concussion. The thing with your jaw. Lots of blood. But that’s about it.”

  “And he broke his collarbone. And broke all his toes in his right foot. Did you tell him that part?” Andy comes into my line of vision.

  “I think it hurts for him to talk. Is the nurse around?” Macy sounds nervous, worried. I want to say not to worry.

  Because you know what? I don’t care if my head’s about to topple off the top of my spine.

  Macy is here with me, and I do recall her saying she loved me.

  As long as she said that, it’s all good.

  Okay, as long as I’m not about to die and she said that, it’s all good.

  “The poor elk, though.” Andy says this for my benefit.

  “And it completely shredded the Yukon. They won’t be renting that one out again.”

  I try to nod again and suck air in through my teeth.

  Macy leaps up. “That’s it. I’m going to find LaDonna. She can’t avoid me. She should know I’m not going to let her sit on her ass and play Bejeweled while Jeremy’s in pain.”

  She flies out of the room, out of my line of sight.

  Andy leans in front of me. “You should just rest. All that financial stuff you scanned and sent to Tucker, he took care of it—it was the data they needed. Richard, he set Macy up with that missing deposit. He’s been skimming off the top for at least eighteen months. That’s why, when you started sniffing around, he sicced Troy on you. But between Todd’s alibi for Macy from that day when he skipped out on fishing and the money transfers you had your people track down, the attorney’s office filed charges against Richard, not Macy.”

  “I—” Again, I have a lot I want to say, but the roofing nail that someone drove into my face and forgot to tell me about, won’t let me.

  Andy shakes his head. “Macy’s gone to get LaDonna, nurse of the year and doser of the drugs. You rest. Next time you wake up I bet they’ll have figured out the face thing.”

  I set my head back against the pillow and wait for Macy.

  She comes back into view, towing a tiny Hispanic lady by the hand. “See, see how still he’s holding his head? And he can’t even talk, it hurts so bad.”

  LaDonna looks skeptical. She turns to Andy. “This true?”

  Andy stands next to her. I try to will him to action. Use your superhero movie star charms for good, my friend.

  Andy nods, folds his arms over his chest. “Trust me, Jeremy King is not a man of few words. I’ve never heard him so quiet. And as much as it pains me to relieve him of his suffering, I do think he’s in some pain.”

  LaDonna relents. “The orders give me a little wiggle room. I can give him another dose now, and then when the doctor makes rounds, we’ll get that cheek and jaw thing straightened out.” She approaches me with a large needle. Before I can react, I feel something warm and then cold climb up my arm.

  “You just rest, Mr. King. Everyone tells me I should be glad you can’t speak.”

  Macy takes my hand and smiles at me, and then her lovely eyes go gray and then it’s dark.

  The elevator. Another elevator, this one to the top of the CN tower in Toronto.

  “Not long enough to get in any trouble, too long to not feel stifling.” I try to ignore the smell of a day’s worth of sweaty tourists.

  Macy smacks my arm. “You do not get to be a killjoy. You know how long I’ve wanted to come here. Now is not the time for ‘Jeremy King, disaffected agent who’s seen it all’ to rear his ugly head.”

  I frown. “I’m not disaffected, and my head’s not ugly.”

  She leans in and kisses me. “You have a perfectly lovely head. You are jaded, though. Admit it, Mr. King.”

  The elevator stops before we can get any farther.

  “I still don’t get why you didn’t do this sooner.”

  “It’s money, and I didn’t know about the passport.”

  “No criminal or immigration-related convictions. That’s what stopped you.” I hug her as we get off and head to the edge of the observation deck.

  “I didn’t know if that meant me or not. Now I do. Here I am. And the best part is, I get to share this with you.” She weaves her arms around to my back and pulls herself close to my body.

  Screw the CN tower. I’m ready to go back to the hotel. “We should hurry this up.”

  She grins. “I know your game. This is the Jeremy King experience. You’re ready to pop me on a plane and send me on my way.”

  “Who told you about that? Was it Todd? I’ll kick his ass.”

  She smiles. “Not telling.”

  “This is not the ‘experience.’ This is you and me, learning to act like a normal couple.” I kiss her neck, brush an earlobe, work up to whispering some really suggestive sweet nothings.

  “No, sir, don’t go in for the kill.” She slides out of my arms. “I want to see the view before I fall prey to your charms.”

  I watch her walk the perimeter of the deck, enjoy seeing her face light up with wonder at the blanket of Toronto and beyond spread out below us.

  She pauses, waves me over. “Come see this with me.”

  I come close to her. “It’s really beautiful. It’s good that we came up here.”

  She smiles. “I told you.”

  Standing close to her, I touch her hand. “Hey, you remember when you said you wouldn’t take gifts worth more than forty bucks?”

  She looks curious. “Yeah.”

  I slip a ring on her finger, on the fourth finger on her left hand. It twinkles in the night air, thousands of feet above the land of both Trudeaus and poutine.

  “What is this?” She gasps.

  “I may have broken the rule.”

  “You can’t have spent this kind of money on me.”

  I smile. “I found a loophole.”

  “What is it?” She’s crying now, tears sliding down her cheeks as she grins and looks from my face to the ring and back again.

  “I bought this with the swear jar money.”

  She tilts her head back and laughs. “You’re too much.”

  “Yes, I am. I love you.”

  She kisses me. “I love you.”

  “And I’m safe to say you’re a yes on the proposal?”

  “As long as I get to spend summers on the river, I’m a yes. Per our discussion.”

  I hold her close and kiss her again. “Per our discussion. You’re a piece of work, Macy Shea Summerlin.”

  “So are you, Mr. Jeremy King.”

  “Made for each other, clearly.” I lead her to the elevator. “Let’s go see what the Trudeaus got up to while we were gone.”

  We get back on the elevator and go to face the world. It’s a pretty great feeling.

  And that’s not some mushy bullshit; it’s just true.

  Sometimes I feel more hot mess than hot ticket, and I am so lucky to have so many amazing people who support me in my life. You all are phenomenal.

  To my family. My man and my boys put up with me and the perpetual whining/stewing that I lovingly call the creative process. And the Anderson, Lindsay, and Finn c
lans are my first and best cheerleaders. I love all of you.

  To my Chix. Thanks for sticking with me and being my sounding board. We are a BA bunch of women, and I can’t wait to see what’s in store for us next.

  To my work family, a whole organization of passionate and caring people! Thanks for all of your support for my “other” job.

  To the ladies of the book world who have offered me such great friendship—the Jennifers (Lane and Locklear), Jessica, Nancee, Colleen, Nicki, Traci, Midian, Michelle, and Angy.

  And to the Omnific crew. You started this great journey with one “yes.” Thanks for backing an unknown!

  Beck Anderson loves to write about love and its power to heal and grow people past their many imperfections. She is a firm believer in the phrase “mistakes are for learning” and uses it frequently to guide her in writing life and real life.

  Beck balances (clumsily at best) writing novels and screenplays, working full-time as an educator, mothering two pre-teen males, loving one post-40 husband, and making time to walk the foothills of Boise, Idaho, with Stefano DiMera Delfino Anderson, the suavest Chihuahua north of the border.

  Her first novel, Fix You, was a RWA Rita® finalist for Best First Book and Best Contemporary Romance. Learn more at authorbeck.com.