When Worlds Collide (My Kind Of Country Book 3)

by M. Lynne Cunning

  She and Mason walked down to the cafeteria, getting a bagel for Mason and two coffees. It took fifteen minutes to make it there and back to Chad’s room, and Katie walked in the opened doorway to find that the nurses had already aided him in getting out of the bed. He was wobbling and grimacing with pain, held up by the tight grip he had on the nurses at his sides, but he was standing. The sight made Katie gasp, pride swelling at the sight.

  The noise caused Chad and the nurses to look up simultaneously, and the sudden shift of focus resulted in Chad’s attention being on her rather than his struggle to maintain his balance. His body seemed to buckle to one side, and he fell against the nurse on his left, letting out a strangled cry. Katie wasn’t sure if it was from pain or frustration, but, either way, her arm flew up to cover her mouth, startled.

  “Oh my—are you okay?” she gasped.

  “Katie, get out of here. Please!” Chad snapped, not looking at her. He struggled to get himself upright again, and the nurses murmured encouraging words to try to calm him down.

  “I brought you the—”

  “I said go, Katie!”

  She stared at him. He hadn’t yet lifted his head to glance over at her, and she knew he wouldn’t. But if he had, he would have seen the very confused little boy standing beside his mother. Katie gently pushed Mason toward the door, setting the lidded coffee cup on the table beside the couch before she headed for the door herself.

  “Your coffee is on the table. I’ll be back later.” Katie got to the doorframe and stopped. “I love you,” she muttered softly. If there was one thing she’d learned from all this, it was that she would never walk away from an argument without reminding her loved one—and herself—that love was what their lives were built on. Everyone got angry and said things they didn’t always mean, but she would make sure, from here on in, that her last words to anyone were not those spoken in frustration, anger, or malice.

  Because she could never be sure if those words would be the last words spoken.

  ***

  Katie texted Jay about an hour before he was supposed to pick up Mason.

  Meet us in the parking lot of Chad’s apartment?

  She felt the need to arrange their meeting there for a multitude of reasons. The first was that they could see the parking lot from Chad’s living room window, so there would be no need to wait outside for him. The second reason was that Katie wanted other people she trusted nearby, and seeing as Chad’s parents and Jillian knew Jay planned on coming, she had allies on her side that understood a little of what she was dealing with when it came to her ex. The third reason was selfish, but she felt compelled to confirm it, anyway. She requested him to come there purely because Jay shouldn’t have had any real reason to know where Chad lived. But he did, because he’d arranged for a photographer to follow her there and take incriminating photos that eventually led to the destruction of her rekindled romance with Chad, and ultimately Chad’s accident. Katie admitted to Jay that she knew what he had done, and he hadn’t denied it, but he hadn’t confessed, either. She somehow hoped, in the deepest parts of her heart, that Jay couldn’t be capable of such a thing, and that he hadn’t actually done it.

  Be there in forty-five minutes, Jay texted back.

  So much for wishful thinking.

  ***

  In usual Jay Khunes fashion, he showed up forty minutes later. Katie had to plead with Hayden and Elaine to stay in the lobby while she went out into the parking lot. Obviously, Jay’s first impression must have stuck with them. They didn’t trust him, and they didn’t even know half of what had truly happened between Jay and herself.

  When Mason saw Jay’s red Mitsubishi pull up by the entrance, he took off at a run, bursting through the glass doors of the apartment building entrance with such fervor that one of the doors bounced loudly off the stopper that shielded it from the brick wall. Katie followed him, with one last pleading look behind her to tell Chad’s parents to stay put.

  “Merry Christmas, Jay.” She didn’t say it with enthusiasm, but offered him the most genuine smile she could muster.

  “You, too.” Jay barely glanced at her, immediately guiding his son around to the passenger side of the car.

  “Wait,” Katie stepped around the car as well, lowering herself to one knee.

  Jay looked back then, sighing. “Say goodbye to your mother, Mason.”

  She flashed a glare of annoyance at the finality of his words, but covered it with a fleeting shrug when she turned back to her son, reaching out to envelop him in a hug. “Be good. And have fun with Dad, okay?”

  Mason gave a distracted promise and then pulled away just enough to pull something from his pocket. He pushed a plastic compact disc case into her hand. “I forgot to give that to Chad. Can you do it for me, please?”

  She recognized the disc as the recording he’d made with Barry in the studio. There was already a small crack in the case; Mason must have been carrying it with him since he’d made it. “Of course, Mase. He’s going to love it. You go have fun, now.”

  “I love you, Ms. Mom.”

  “I love you too, Mr. Mase.” She hugged him tightly to her again, and reluctantly let him pull away from her and climb into the car. Pushing herself to her feet, Katie, for the first time, took in the contents of Jay’s car. Sleeping bags and a variety of shopping bags were crammed tightly into the backseat of the car. She watched as Jay struggled to find room for Mason’s overnight bag within the clutter.

  “Going on a camping trip to the Arctic or something?” she joked, trying to sound nonchalant. She felt guilty for feeling anything but uncomfortable with the situation, but the lump in her throat didn’t make it any easier to calm herself down.

  “Hardly. It’s a surprise for Mason.”

  Jay’s curt answer did nothing to ease the feeling growing steadily inside her, and she knocked on Mason’s window, indicating to him to roll it down. “If you change your mind and want to come home early, just have Dad call my cell phone, okay?”

  “Can I come home tonight and go visit Chad?”

  He had asked the question so innocently, but it made Katie glance across the hood of the car to Jay, who was just opening the driver’s side door. He stopped, struck painfully by his son’s words. There was no mistaking the look of smoldering anger that burned hotly in Jay’s eyes.

  “You can if you’d like,” Katie replied guardedly. “But if you’re having fun with Dad, don’t you worry about me or Chad. Okay? Just go have fun, Mase.”

  Mason seemed pleased with her response, and he nodded happily, kicking his feet with a content smile on his face.

  “Good luck with Chad,” Jay spat out before ducking his head to get into the car.

  She noticed that he didn’t ask about Chad’s progress, and his snide wish of good luck didn’t sit well with her. She’d come here with the mindset of making the best of the situation between the two of them, for Mason’s benefit. Jay, however, seemed to have no intentions of pretending they were okay, even for his son on Christmas Day.

  “Have fun, Mason.” This time, she said it more for her own benefit than her son’s. “Call me whenever you want, okay? I’ve got my phone on and the ringer turned up.”

  “Merry Christmas, Ms. Mom!”

  The nickname made her smile as she watched Jay put the car in drive and pull away from the curb at the building’s entrance, Mason’s arm flinging wildly in an exaggerated wave from the passenger window. She was still waving to him when the vehicle disappeared out onto the street, disappearing into the sea of taillights at the intersection.

  “Merry Christmas to you, too, baby,” she mumbled, but he was already long gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was only seven o’clock in the evening, and already Katie was thinking that tomorrow morning couldn’t come soon enough. She wanted her son back within arm’s reach. She knew it wasn’t fair to not want Jay to have time with him, too, but his lack of communication with her earlier today had struck a chord somewhere dee
p within her, causing a sense of uneasiness to hang over her like a heavy cloud.

  Going back to the hospital to spend some time with Chad had done little to make her feel any better. Equipped with good coffee and doughnuts from the coffee shop the next street over—there was no use trying to kid themselves that the cafeteria coffee was actually good coffee—she’d returned to the hospital, only to find Jillian camped out in Chad’s room, alone. Hayden and Elaine had stayed back at the apartment to rest. The constant movement and stressfulness of the last few weeks must have been catching up with them.

  “He’s with the physiotherapist, down the hallway.” She pointed out the door to the left, but held her hands up. “But I am not responsible for what he says or does if you find him. You’ve been warned. His mood is foul, Katie, and he’s taking his anger out on, well, everybody.”

  Foolishly, she hadn’t heeded the warning. She found Chad easily, and not because the physiotherapy room was five doors down from his own. A steady string of muttered curse words could be heard from the doorway, and she recognized the voice that uttered them.

  She didn’t walk in immediately, still stung by the way he’d lashed out at her earlier. Instead, she peered around the doorframe and watched in silence. Chad stood between two steel balance bars, his knuckles and fingers white from holding up his own body weight. He grunted with the effort of putting one leg unsteadily in front of the other, but he was able to do it, albeit shakily and with a slow pace he’d probably never experienced before in his adult life.

  She entered the room quietly, not wanting to interrupt his session. She smiled at the physiotherapist as she sat one of the coffee cups on a table near Chad’s hooded sweatshirt, slung lazily over a two-wheeled walker he was obviously being forced to use.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Katie turned to meet Chad’s steely glare. The strain in his voice gutted her; she couldn’t imagine how hard this must be for him. “I brought you some coffee, that’s all. Don’t mind me. You’re doing great, by the way.” She offered him an encouraging smile, but it did little to soften the lines in his face.

  “That coffee will be ice cold by the time I figure this out, Katie. Take it to Jillian.”

  The physiotherapist looked ready to intervene, giving Katie a sympathetic look.

  “If that’s what you want,” Katie replied.

  “Just take it and get out of here. You don’t need to see this.” He must have realized how cruel he was being, because he added, “Please.”

  She stared back at him for a long minute and even contemplated arguing back. Instead, she gave up. She didn’t like having an audience, and she also didn’t want to say anything that might throw his focus off the task at hand and hinder his progress.

  She would bite her tongue. For now.

  Katie made her way back to Chad’s room, and Jillian must have recognized the dejected expression she tried to hide. She held out the coffee to her, and her eyebrows rose.

  “He wouldn’t even take the coffee? Damn, he must be even more on edge than I thought.” Jillian pulled herself up into a sitting position on the couch, motioning for Katie to take a seat beside her. She took the coffee from Katie and took a sip from it without knowing whether it was black, or had cream or sugar in it. And Katie thought she’d liked Chad’s sister before.

  “Did he bark at you, too?” Katie asked as she sat down.

  “Nah.” Jillian waved her hand dismissively. “Chad’s been barking at me for years. We’re siblings, remember? Besides, he’s not nearly as defensive and aggravated by me seeing him in such a vulnerable state as he is by the woman he loves seeing it.”

  Katie watched the corners of her mouth twitch. “Did he tell you that?”

  “He didn’t have to. He loves you, and you love him, too. I’m not blind.”

  “I just want to help him,” she confessed weakly.

  “That’s the thing, though. He doesn’t want your help, Katie.” Jillian didn’t sound mean, but she turned to her, giving her a sad look that matched the one she’d received from the physiotherapist only minutes before. “He wants to help you, not the other way around. And I think what frustrates him most is that, right now, if you needed help, he’s not in any shape to give it to you. Does that make sense?”

  Katie nodded, staring down at the cup in her hands. “It does. It’s ironic, really. If his problem is that he feels helpless, I mean. Because that’s exactly how I feel, too. Helpless. There’s nothing I can do to help him get through this. He’s on his own when it comes to getting better, and I can’t make it any easier on him.”

  “There is nothing any of us can do, Katie,” Jillian sighed. “All we can do is stay, and let him know he’s not alone, no matter how much it might feel that way right now.” She held up the paper cup in front of her. “Oh, and I’ll drink his coffee when he pitches a fit. This is damn good coffee, Katie.”

  Katie laughed, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

  “For being here to take the caffeine right out from under his nose? Anytime, girlfriend.”

  “Not for that!” she laughed. “For letting me know we’re all kind of in the same boat here.”

  “I knew what you meant.” Jillian gave her a sideways glance. “When you’re a part of the Kirkwood clan, Katie, you’re always in the same boat. Whether you like it or not.” She reached out and tapped her coffee cup with the one in Katie’s hand.

  “Cheers.”

  ***

  Jillian went home soon after finishing her coffee, and with the help of countless text messages back and forth with Elaine, Katie had committed detailed instructions to her memory of what to bring back to the apartment for supper.

  According to Jillian, Chad had advised his parents to take the night off and stay at his place instead of spending their time sitting in his hospital room. Despite still being Christmas Day, the hours had passed into the darkness of evening, and his parents had agreed. Elaine made certain he knew she would be there bright and early the next morning, though, and she conveyed a few subtle hints to her son that she hoped he was in better spirits then.

  Katie’s cell rang just as she was about to go check on Chad in the physiotherapy room. Saved by the bell, she thought. She would have been crazy to actually want to go back into that room again willingly.

  Her heart beat a little faster seeing Jay’s name on her caller display.

  “Mason?”

  “Hi, Mom. I think I want to come back home with you tonight.”

  Mason’s voice was laced with sleepiness. “That’s okay. Is your dad there?”

  “He’s pumping gas. We’re at a gas station.”

  “Okay. Are you close to his apartment?”

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, I can meet you there. Give me about a half an hour, all right?” She glanced up at the clock on the wall. She could definitely make it there by nine o’clock, just in time to pick him up, grab the takeout food, and head home for a comfortable night at home.

  “Okay, Mom.”

  Katie couldn’t resist asking. “Is everything okay, Mase?”

  “Yeah. I’m just tired, and Dad wants to keep driving.”

  Keep driving? “Okay. You tell your dad I’ll be at his place in half an hour. I’ll see you then.”

  Mason hung up without saying goodbye.

  To hell with it. She would call Chad later to explain why she’d left—if he even wanted to see her. Right now, she had to go find Mason. Once he was back in her line of sight, with his sleepy eyelids and sluggish voice, she would feel better. But, for now, something was off, and though she didn’t know what it was, she didn’t like it at all.

  ***

  Jay’s car wasn’t in the parking lot of his apartment building when she got there. She drove up and down the rows of parked vehicles, just to make sure she hadn’t missed it, but he wasn’t there. The rational part of her mind told her it made perfect sense that his car was nowhere to be found; she was fifteen minutes early, thanks to the lack
of traffic, and, if she knew him at all, Jay would make sure he was late, purely out of spite.

  She parked her truck near the entrance door, feeling lucky to have found a spot with such a good view of the cars coming in and out of the parking lot. Which was nice, because, in general, lucky wasn’t exactly how she felt today. Between Chad’s mood swings, Jay’s standoffishness, and the lack of Mason’s presence, she had to admit, she felt pretty alone.

  Katie pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her coat, and her heart sank. There were no missed calls, which meant no word from Mason...or Chad.

  Just to hear his voice, Katie called Jay’s phone in hopes of having Mason give her an update on how much longer it would take him to get there. The phone continued to ring in her ear, and each ring elevated her fear another notch. She hung up and checked the phone’s clock. Two minutes till nine o’clock. Why weren’t they there yet?

  After that, she started redialing Jay’s number every five minutes, and each time she was met with a long bout of ringing and the eventual monotone greeting of his voicemail. She didn’t leave a message, mostly because the hysteria rising in the pit of her stomach would be audible, and she didn’t want to give Jay that kind of satisfaction, having succeeded in frightening her.

  He was a half hour late when Katie, fed up and needing to feel like she was taking some kind of action, slammed the door of her truck and headed inside to the lobby of the apartment building. Her cell phone was still clutched tightly in her hand as she gave a small wave to the man beside the receptionist counter and ducked into one of the elevators. A sense of overwhelming familiarity encompassed her as she made her way down the hallway toward Jay’s apartment, the place she and Mason had stayed off and on for the past few months with the promise of her and Jay attempting to mend what was left of their broken relationship. It was familiarity she felt, though, and not guilt or shame for no longer wanting to try to rebuild anything that included Jay Khunes.

  That ship had long sailed.

  She knocked on the door, not wanting to use the key she still had dangling from her key chain. Somehow, as much as she loathed Jay for all he’d done, she didn’t feel right entering his personal space without permission, at least not without trying to offer the common courtesy of knocking first.