Hale Series Boxed Set

by Marie James

  I wanted nothing more than to grill him and find out exactly what was said, but I’m not a glutton for punishment and I’m almost certain the conversation leaned more towards: I’m glad he’s not here rather than what my heart hopes is more like: I miss and wish he was here with me.

  I force myself to get ready for work when all I’d rather be doing is heading to the hospital, getting Alexa, and bringing her home with me, so I can take care of her and hold her at night. My bed is empty without her. The apartment is like a mausoleum without her laughter or the sounds of her moans as I bring her to orgasm. I stay away as much as I can, only returning here to sleep.

  I’ve spent countless hours in the parking lot of the hospital, talking myself out of going in there and declaring my feelings to her. I need to work harder on dealing with my shit because several times I’ve made it to her floor before turning around just to go sit back in the truck. I’m grateful I haven’t run into one of her visitors. I sure would hate to explain why I’m there in the first place.

  Johnny has kept things running in my absence and I’ve made sure my accountant knows to increase his pay not only for the time I’ve been out but to keep it there until further notice. I know I’ll never lower it because he’s been monumental in making sure things are run tight at Ampere.

  I leave my apartment and head to the hospital. I don’t know when she’ll be released, but I’ll sit in the parking lot by the discharge entrance until she is. I know this is the only way I can see her face without having to explain my presence. I’m hoping that seeing her again and knowing that she’s well will bring me some peace, but I know it’ll only leave me more longing.

  Chapter 32

  Alexa

  The doctor came in and said that I get to leave today as soon as the nurse goes over discharge paperwork and I have my appointment scheduled for a follow-up. They must’ve known how bad I wanted out of here, either that, or they needed to turn this private room Ian paid for back into the double it normally is, because they were in my room needing signatures before eight this morning.

  I’d sent Lorali and Josie home late last night because they’ve been hovering for a week and honestly I needed some peace and quiet rather than having people here who felt obligated to entertain me. I shoot a quick text to Lorali to let her know I need a ride home. I kind of wished Garrett would be the one to show up and insist on taking me home with him but I know that’s not going to happen.

  I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here when the police detective was here taking my statement. I asked Lorali about him the other day, but she just gave me the standard ‘I’m sure he’s fine but I haven’t seen him’ line. In my mind I’ve pictured him miserable and withdrawn, but I know that’s not the case. A more accurate vision of him would more likely be of him buried deep in some slut at an expensive hotel.

  The thought makes me want to cry, but I hold those emotions back. I’ve got to get my shit together. At first I told myself that I should be lucky that I got the time with him I did, but that made me pissed. I’ve resolved myself, mostly, to the fact that I deserve better than him. I deserve a man that cares for me like I care for him; one who gives as much as he gets emotionally.

  I have to specify the emotional part in my brain and do my best to not even picture the sexual side of our brief association. The sex was the best. I’ll never touch another man and not compare him to Garrett Hale. This is the point of fact that makes my resolve waiver the most.

  I tried for a brief moment to force myself to believe that he had no other interest in me other than sex, but I would’ve never told him I loved him if I didn’t feel like he felt something for me in return. The last time we were together was passionate, slow, and very loving. After his response I know I need to reevaluate how I read certain situations. I could’ve sworn he felt it to. Boy was I wrong in a big way!

  Much to my disappointment Lorali and Ian showed up to my hospital room shortly after eight-thirty, ready to lug me home. Lorali had wanted me to stay with her and Ian, but I insisted on going home. I need to get back to a new type of normal as quickly as possible.

  “You ready to go?” Ian inquires as he pushes a wheelchair into the room.

  “Yeah. But I’m not leaving in that thing!” I huff out.

  “I knew you wouldn’t want to,” Lorali begins, “but hospital policy says you can’t walk out of here. You have to leave in that thing.”

  I let out a huff of exaggeration, but opt for being pushed out of the hospital like an invalid over having to stay longer. The service and staff have been above exceptional but the hospital is not someplace I want to spend any more time in. Ever.

  I’m able to walk around but my movements are slow and sluggish. I’ve avoided any type of jostling that I can and wince each time we have to cross over a threshold in the floor as we make our way out. Ian’s parked his SUV right in front, which I’m grateful for. I don’t think I’d be able to handle having to be pushed across the parking lot.

  Ian, being the gentleman that he is, lifts me up gingerly and places me in the back seat. Once Lorali has returned the wheelchair back inside she comes out and slides in the back with me. She grabs my hand, knowing that the bumps in the road are going to cause me discomfort.

  “Josie really wanted to be here, but she had to go back to work.” She explains. “Since this is her first year teaching, she didn’t have much time.”

  I think back to the meltdown Lorali had, knowing she has used a few days then as well. I nod my head in understanding.

  “I get the feeling she’ll begin to hover as soon as she’s home.” I tell her as Ian puts the vehicle into gear and slowly eases out of the parking lot.

  I tense, preparing myself for the jostling that’s sure to ensue, but the excellent suspension on the SUV leaves me protected and I’m able to relax.

  “Did you see the way that detective was eye fucking her?” I whisper to her, hoping Ian doesn’t hear our impromptu girl talk.

  She grins really big and looks towards Ian as well. Shifting her weight so it’s angled more towards me she replies, “And that girl has no damn clue!”

  I give her the ‘are you kidding me’ look. “Lorali. It wasn’t that long ago you were just as oblivious to what was standing in front of you.” I remind her, inclining my head towards Ian.

  She smiles really big. “Well, Ian made sure I knew he wanted me. Kaleb hasn’t reached out to Josie.” She tries to explain the difference. I’ll let her have it this time.

  “So what do we do to set things in motion?” I inquire.

  Lorali shakes her head. “Josie will NEVER make the first move! If Kaleb doesn’t come out and say something to her, nothing will happen.”

  “I can always call Kaleb and give him the push he needs.” Ian whispers in a conspiratory tone.

  We both start laughing. The idea that we could have a sneaky conversation only a few feet away from him and get away with becomes suddenly hilarious.

  I hold my stomach with my arms, and the shaking is quite painful but the laughing is so cathartic I can’t stop. I have tears rolling down my face before I’m able to settle again.

  I catch Ian’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “I think that’s a great idea, Ian.”

  Lorali nods her head in agreement beside me.

  When we arrive at the apartment, Ian makes his way back around to my side and gently lifts me out of the SUV and sets my feet down on the ground. The incredibly slow pace I’m shuffling at makes me wish we’d loaded up the wheelchair from the hospital.

  “I can carry you, Alexa” Ian offers, but pride has me refusing. He and Lorali keep pace with me, never once showing an ounce of frustration at my less than leisurely pace.

  After six years, we finally make it into the apartment. I can’t help but spot the reclining monstrosity in the living room. “What the hell is that?” I sneer pointing across the room.

  Lorali’s beaming as she bounces across the room to it. “It’s a recliner, but it has this litt
le controller.” She holds up a remote on a cord “You sit in it and when you want to get up it helps to stand you up.” She demonstrates and I’ll be damned if the whole fucking chair doesn’t just rise up, pushing her to standing. “One of the nurses recommended it so your insides can heal faster with less strain.” Lorali uses the corded remote to sit herself back down. “She also said you’d more than likely be more comfortable sleeping here for the first little bit.”

  No way am I giving into that damn old lady chair, but I smile at Lorali and thank her for it anyways. Her heart really is in the right place and I’m so grateful for everyone that has helped me the last week.

  Now that I’m home my first instinct is to head to the fridge for a glass of wine. I stop dead in my tracks on the way there, remembering we’re out of wine and what happened last time I went to buy some. The thought leaves me cold and I realize then that my heavy drinking days are over. The idea of partying, clubbing, and starting the weekend with a bottle of wine before heading out makes my stomach roll. I need to find another outlet for letting off steam than alcohol. Sex is my second choice, but that led to nowhere good the last time, so it seems that will be off the table for now as well. The idea of sleeping with someone other than Garrett makes me sicker to my stomach than thinking about drinking did.

  I want to scream! I want to curse God for giving me such a shitty life. Things have been downhill since my parents died eight years ago, and continued when my grandmother passed from breast cancer just two short years ago. Now I have to deal with this shit! It takes everything I have not to lose control and trash the apartment. I really don’t have the strength right now, but I may do it once I’m rested and I don’t have an audience.

  Before I force Ian and Lorali to leave, they make sure I’m settled in as comfortable as possible in my bed. They’ve left my phone and laptop within reach as well as one of the disgusting protein shakes I’m forced to drink as my only form of nutritional intake. Thirteen more days and I can start on soft foods. Let’s throw a fucking party.

  I spend the afternoon cat napping in between checking social media which is enough with my new view on life to throw me into a deep depression. I do my best not to let the feelings settle inside, but being stuck in bed and not being able to eat anything has left me throwing a pity party for myself. I finally had enough and tried to get out of bed but attempting to sit up on my own only lasts about a minute before the pain radiating through my gut put a stop to that.

  I’m forced to lie in bed until Josie gets home. Last look at the clock says that’s an hour away. I vow to get my ass up and into that geriatric chair which I now view as a godsend the minute Josie gets home and can help me up. Might as well take another nap.

  ***

  What seems like a short time later, I’m pulled from sleep by Josie sitting down beside me on the bed, her small hand grazing my forehead. She’s checking for fever, one of the things the hospital staff said to be on the lookout for, and it makes me smile. I also feel relief when I see she has a pain pill and a tall glass of orange juice.

  “I’ve got to get out of this bed.” I mutter to her after I swallow to the horse pill and drink half of the orange juice. “Can you come back in like thirty once the medicine kicks in and help me?” I give her the best puppy dog face I can manage.

  “Of course! Gives me enough time to grab a shower.” She grimaces and looks down at a stain in her shirt. “I need to wash off the failed science experiment!”

  “Do I even want to know?” I utter with a laugh.

  “Nope!” She gets up from the bed and leaves the room.

  I sure do love that girl in all her craziness. I wish I could be more like her, never worrying about men and sexual frustration. That would be the life.

  Chapter 33

  Garrett

  Three weeks. It’s been a full three weeks since I have laid eyes on Alexa. I feel empty, alone, and slightly psychotic. The unprompted texts from Ian have stopped and now all I get from him when I text or call to ask questions about her is Go see her or Ask her yourself.

  She’s not reached out to me. Her Facebook is private so I can’t even stalk her on social media, other than staring at her gorgeous face on her profile picture, which I do. Often.

  It’s Sunday and I’m restless and twitchy, my morning workout in the downstairs gym not even enough to boost endorphins and get me in a better mood. Unable to stay at my apartment, I opt for a long drive around town. The familiar buildings and stores pass by in a blur and don’t even register.

  My life the last two weeks has been much of the same, going through the motions. I don’t even have much of a memory of what’s happened. I know the club is still operating, thanks in a large part to Johnny. I know my reaction to this shit with Alexa is different than after Jamie and I split up because I’ve not sought out another woman, when that was the very first thing I did after leaving Jamie crying on the front porch of our modest home.

  I pull my truck into the empty lot of Nature Trail Park, the idling of the engine hypnotic.

  Garrett: How is she doing?

  I text Ian one last time, hoping his response will be different this time. I stare out into the wilderness that begins on the edge of the man-made parking lot, noticing how spring is finally arriving and the flowers and trees are starting to bud and bloom. How did I miss the beginning of spring?

  The way I see life has changed, the entire world seems to have dulled. My phone rings bringing me out of my moment of self-pity.

  “Hello?” I sigh into the phone.

  “Hey, man,” Ian’s voice coming through the phone is a surprise. He sounds as somber as I feel.

  “What’s up?” I question, resisting the urge to jump right into the conversation about Alexa.

  “Listen, Garrett,” he begins and I get the feeling I’m not going to like what he has to say. “You really need to just go over there and see her.”

  I quiet for a moment. “I’d love nothing more than to go over there, Ian, but I doubt she wants to see me.”

  I hear him huff on the phone. My response is the same it has been to his previous nudges to just man up and go tell her how I feel. “You’d be surprised at what she wants.”

  “Has she asked about me?” My voice has an edge of hopefulness to it and my heart rate has increased slightly. Please say yes!

  “You just need to go see her,” he replies not answering my question. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “You mean after I go over there to grovel and she shuts me down again? The worst thing is losing not only her but the last little bit of my pride, the last few ounces that I actually have anyways.” How can he even ask me that? He knows she hasn’t reached out to me.

  “How’s that pride working out for you right now?” He asks, a mild hint of asshole in his voice.

  I want to get pissed and take my anger and frustration out, but I can’t do that to Ian; especially not when he’s right.

  “Poorly,” I mutter into the phone.

  “So what are you going to do about it? Continue to waste away or go and try to get your girl back?” The tone of his voice is calm but reminds me of a coach attempting to get his team out of the half time loser slump before they head back out on the field.

  Surprisingly, it works. “Fuck,” I huff into the phone, knowing my day is going to be much different than I had anticipated after waking up this morning. “I’ll think about it,” I eventually mutter to him.

  “Think long, think wrong,” he offered before hanging up.

  I sit in complete silence with my head against the backrest of the truck seat, my eyes closed and my breathing shallow. Living with her nonverbal rejection that occurred in the hospital; going to her and hearing her say the words would ruin me.

  You’re already ruined.

  I run through every scenario in my head, cringing at the one I think has a better chance of happening and smiling at the possibilities of others. The continued running of my fingers through my hair is beginn
ing to give me a headache, as well as the stress of what’s to come.

  I throw the truck into drive and head to my apartment. I need a shower since I didn’t get one after hitting the gym this morning. Honestly I don’t have the energy for much more and why dress nice and groom myself when the inevitable will ultimately throw me back into a gloomy state.

  Just as I’m about to head out of the apartment to go to Alexa to grovel and beg, I’m struck with another round of nerves. My hands are shaking and my heart rate is over the top. I plop down on the couch and squeeze my eyes tightly closed.

  I know the sudden attack has hit me for more than one reason. Not only am I terrified that she will reject me, I’m almost as terrified that she won’t. The idea of giving myself one hundred percent to another woman, allowing her in completely, giving her the ability to destroy me causes me to take pause.

  Is that something I’m ready for? Could I see myself with Alexa for the rest of my life? Am I willing to take the chance with her now even if it may not work out in the long run?

  A million questions, all with the same answer: yes.

  The ridiculous image of us on the front of a farmhouse porch, gliding slowly in rocking chairs holding hands, both of our faces aged several decades hits me. I can’t help but laugh. No way Alexa would be down with country living. Surprisingly, I could see us together that long even though the scenery is inaccurate.

  It’s the motivation I need to get off the couch. If I have it my way, that feisty, beautiful redhead will come back here with me by nightfall. The idea of having her in my arms once more has me hastily moving towards the door and down to my truck.

  I wish I could tell you that my motivation never faltered as I drove across town to the apartment Alexa shared with longtime friend Josie Bennett, but that’s not the case. After circling her block enough times I was afraid the other tenants would call the police for suspicious activity, I eventually parked.

  It doesn’t end there. I sat in the truck in the dim parking garage for the better part of an hour, cursing myself for being such a pussy, cursing Jamie for the damage I had thought until recently that I was over. I even cursed Alexa for being so fucking irresistible. Those thoughts then lead to the stiffening of my cock, which meant I had to sit in the truck even longer. Nothing says asshole like showing up with my flag waving, begging her to take me back while appearing to only want one thing.