Demanded by Him (Wanted Series #3)

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Demanded by Him (Wanted Series #3) Page 6

by Hazel Kelly


  “Right.”

  “And I considered telling her that her mom died in childbirth and letting her believe that she and I were really in love.”

  “Were you never?”

  He shook his head. “No. There was definitely lust involved, and convenience was a factor. But I never had any idea what love was until Sophie came into my life.”

  I pursed my lips.

  “I love my siblings and my parents, of course, but that’s a different kind of love.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  He sighed. “Well, if you’re lucky, familial love is unconditional, which is great.”

  I nodded.

  “But the love I have for Sophie-” He took a deep breath. “It’s- I don’t know- transformational.”

  I tilted my head.

  “It’s made me a different person, a better person.”

  “Wow.” I loaded the snacks back into the white bag and rolled the top shut.

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?” I asked, stacking the empty cups and sliding the tray under my chair.

  “Do you think the stress of this situation has turned me into a babbling idiot?”

  I smiled. “No,” I said, crossing my leg towards him. “I think you’re sweet.”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “And yes, I’m as surprised by that as you are.”

  He smiled. “You have any secret children you want to come clean about?”

  “Now would be the time, wouldn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m afraid not. Maybe if I’d spent more time as a groupie-”

  He laughed.

  “But I don’t think I’m the maternal type.”

  “Really?” he asked. “I think you’d be a great mom.”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t. I’m too selfish and too obsessed with micro-managing other people.”

  “You were pretty generous last night.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “And easy going.”

  “Yeah, well, I was trying to impress a guy.”

  “I see.” He leaned back in his chair. “Any idea if it worked?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea, but I had a good time.”

  “That’s good.”

  The tubby nurse walked right up to us. “Mr. Jones?”

  “Yes,” he asked, standing up. “Do you have news about Sophie?”

  “She’s still unresponsive,” the nurse said. “But she’s stable so the doctors have said you can come in and see her for a few minutes.”

  His shoulders dropped several inches. “Okay, great.” He nodded at me.

  I stood up.

  “Are you family?” the nurse asked, turning to me.

  Wyatt said yes at the same time I said no.

  The nurse squinted between us.

  “Not exactly,” Wyatt admitted.

  “Right,” the nurse said, tilting her head at me. “In that case, if you wouldn’t mind waiting here-”

  Wyatt looked at me, his mouth twisted in distress.

  “That’s fine,” I said, sweeping my hand down the back of his arm. “You go in. I’ll wait here.”

  He leaned toward me and pressed his cheek to mine. “Thanks.”

  “Right this way,” the nurse said, turning on her heels.

  I sank back into my chair and watched him disappear through the grey double doors, wishing the nurse had come two seconds later. That way, he might’ve admitted whether or not I impressed him, which I was dying to know.

  Especially since he was seeming more like a guy worth impressing all the time.

  Chapter 13: Wyatt

  I felt like the nurse in front of me was moving in slow motion.

  Could she seriously not go any faster?

  She was a perfect example of why I always ate one less donut than I wanted.

  Speaking of nervous eating, thank god for that Snickers bar.

  And Addison.

  What had we been talking about?

  As I willed the nurse to walk faster, I thought of her sitting in the waiting room. What the fuck was she doing here? I had totally kidnapped her… and opened up a can of guess who’s a big fat liar?!

  It was nice of her to bring me food anyway.

  Eventually, the nurse turned down a hallway where the walls were made of sliding plastic curtains. I thought I was going to throw up when she stopped in front of one.

  “It’s in Sophie’s best interest if you stay calm,” she said, sliding the curtain to the side as she kept her eyes on me.

  My eyes went right to Sophie’s face. She was sleeping like an angel, an angel hooked up to tubes. And something roiled in my gut when I saw that her bed was on wheels. Shouldn’t I have to sign something if my little girl was in a bed on wheels? Were they even allowed to move her around without telling me? Where would they need to take her so fast?

  I was beside her in two steps, squatting down and making her little hand disappear in mine.

  Her fingers didn’t move. They didn’t grasp my hand or clap to see me or reach for a hug. They were completely lifeless, as if they were nothing more than an exhibit in a wax museum.

  “When is she supposed to wake up?” I asked.

  “The sooner the better,” the nurse said, closing the curtain behind her and stepping up to the end of the bed.

  I smoothed Sophie’s thin blond hair against her head. “What does that mean?”

  “We’re doing everything we can, Mr. Jones.”

  “Can you answer me in something other than a bullshit cliché?”

  She just smiled at me. “When you’re done visiting, please see yourself back to the waiting room.”

  “How long-” My throat closed up, but I managed to keep my voice from cracking.

  “Keep it to a half hour,” she said. “Sophie needs her rest.”

  Resting?! Is that what was going on here?

  I stared at her little wrist with the plastic tag on it. Last time I saw one of those tags was when she went low as a kid. The time before that was when I had to get my stomach pumped after our last show in Chicago. And even though I overdid it, the people in the hospital got me rehydrated so fast I went back out later that night and almost died all over again. Fucking youth.

  A noticed a chart and a red pen dangling on a clip at the end of the bed. Part of me wanted to look at it, but I turned back towards Sophie instead.

  “How’s my girl?” I asked, looking at her still eyelids and willing her baby fine lashes to flicker. “I heard you were bossy at camp. Ashley told me. Do you remember her coming with you in the ambulance? That’s how you got here? Do you remember? So don’t wake up and be scared of where you are, okay? This is a hospital. You know what that is. You could spell it by the time you were four. Remember?”

  I took a big breath, my chest expanding as I gulped for air like a drowning man. Then I blew the air out slowly, trying to think of what to say next and praying she would fill the gap in my blabbering with a smile. Or a nose scratch. Something to prove she was still fighting to feel good.

  “Guess what I did while you were at camp?” I reached towards the head of her bed and pulled a flimsy, wire-framed chair up beside her without letting go of her hand. “I hung out with a pretty lady who has the same hair as Ariel from The Little Mermaid.”

  I swallowed. “If you wake up, you can meet her. There’s a Snickers for you and everything.” I sighed. “I know you’d rather have Reese’s Cups, but we can get those on the way home. Or on the way back to camp. Whatever you want if you’ll just wake up.”

  I shook my head. “Anything at all. Breakfast for dinner. A big pizza all to yourself. I promise I won’t even eat your leftover cold ones behind your back.” I remembered to breathe again. “Or we can go to the zoo. We could even go at night. I bet my friend that works there would let us in after hours. You can bring your friends from camp. As many as you want. And Ashley, too.”

  I dropped my head for a second and clenched m
y jaw.

  “She said you were bragging about my band. You don’t need to do that, ya know.” I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling. There was a dentist style light above us on a low setting that blinded me for a moment. “You need to focus on launching your own music career. Yeah, that’s right. I said it.” I leaned an elbow on the bed so my forearm was lying next to hers. “You want to know a secret?”

  I smiled. I could hear her voice in my head. Having just discovered sarcasm, she’d probably answer me by asking if the pope was Catholic.

  “I was going to get you a Karaoke Machine for Christmas, one of the ones that you can hook up to the TV and play all the vintage Britney Spears videos you want as long as your friends promise not to tell their parents. But maybe Christmas is too far off. Maybe I should get it for you right away. No waiting. Christmas come early. What do you say? All you have to do is-”

  I raised my eyebrows and waited for her to finish my sentence.

  But she didn’t wake up.

  And something about the sight of the little oxygen mask over her face made me feel like I wasn’t taking enough air in my lungs either. Maybe the doctors would give me a mask, too? I let my eyes look for a call button for a split second before training them back on Sophie.

  Sophie Hannah Jones.

  I took the liberty of making Hannah her middle name as soon as I got custody. It was partly a tribute to her mom, which was only appropriate because even though she was fucked up in the head, she had a kind soul and a free spirit. But it was also because Hannah had made her middle name Darlene. And while I understood that Roseanne was her favorite show growing up and that having a throwback eighties name might be cute for someone else’s kid, I made an executive decision.

  I didn’t legally cast it out though. I left it in there so Sophie could never say I changed it without asking her. Plus, apparently the name Darlene comes from darling. Or at least that’s what the internet told me. So I gave Hannah the benefit of the doubt that it wasn’t just a Roseanne gag and left it in.

  Hannah.

  She was the epitome of the shoeless forest nymph, her skirts come fuck me short and her hair always scrunched up in some ridiculously seductive bed head. She was the ultimate good time girl.

  I shook my head.

  Sometimes I wondered if she could’ve handled the transition to sensible mother if she’d let me try and help her. Maybe we could’ve done it together. Probably not. I couldn’t have a serious conversation with her to save my life, nor she with anyone else apparently.

  Poor Hannah. It was no wonder she chose to burn out rather than to fade away. She always loved Kerouac.

  I just hoped Sophie would stay away from the light.

  Instead of being blinded by it.

  Like her mother.

  Chapter 14: Addison

  All I could do was try not to stare.

  I’d already seen two little bald kids with sunken eyes and a child whose actual head was in a cast. His head. It looked like a brilliant mummy costume. He was actually talking through a slit in his face.

  And as far as the people whose faces were visible, they all looked shocked, like they were all trying to process difficult news or hide the fact that they’d just shit their last pair of clean pants.

  I wondered what face Wyatt was making now?

  And Sophie.

  I hoped she was making one. Or at least that her face was still instead of twisted in pain. Or was twisted in pain better? Did that mean she was fighting?

  I sighed.

  Whatever expression was best, I hoped that was the one she was making.

  I pulled out a granola bar. It was the kind with little chocolate chips, which is the only reason I was able to ignore the Snickers. But that was clearly Wyatt’s favorite pick of the bunch so I decided to leave it. Just in case.

  Did he even want me here? I hoped I wasn’t intruding. He would tell me though, right? I mean, he obviously told Ashley to take a hike. Probably nicer than that. In fact, I was starting to think he was actually a much better person than I was.

  But surely he would’ve said if he wanted privacy. As the nurse so awkwardly pointed out, I wasn’t family. And what she seemed to imply with her pinched face was that she didn’t think I had much business being there.

  Or maybe she didn’t imply anything and I was just edgy cause I was hungry and I didn’t have to pretend to be pleasant for Wyatt’s sake for a second.

  Why had he said I was family? Did he want me to go with him? He must’ve. Why though? To comfort him? Obviously his daughter wouldn’t give a fuck.

  Did he need comforting? He seemed pretty calm. Then again, he was probably in shock, too.

  Poor Sophie. Then again, it would probably be even poorer Sophie if she had to grow up with her drug addicted mom. I mean, Wyatt himself said her death was for the best. Did he mean that? Or did he just say it cause people say what they have to in order to move on?

  Maybe my mom was a crackhead.

  Maybe my dad was her pimp.

  And that’s why I was so cold.

  And terrified of drugs.

  What if Sophie woke up? What if I met her? Was that even appropriate? I think I would like to meet her. Or at least get visual proof that she was okay. Was that totally inappropriate?

  Would Wyatt mind?

  Maybe she was already awake. Maybe Wyatt was promising her the second Snickers right now as I picked the chocolate chips out of the granola bar, chasing each chocolate bite with a mangled chocolate free one.

  I needed to stop playing with my food. I straightened up and then slouched again. I needed to figure out if he wanted me there, if I was doing the right thing by staying.

  “I’m here to see Sophie Jones,” a man said.

  I looked up. He looked just like Wyatt, except older and softer and with shorter hair.

  The nurse looked up at him. “She can’t have any visitors.”

  “What about my brother? Do you know where he is?” The man leaned the heels of his hands on the counter and looked around the waiting room.

  The nurse raised her eyebrows. “Your brother?”

  “Her dad. Wyatt Jones.”

  “He’s inside with Sophie now.”

  “I thought you said she couldn’t have visitors.”

  “If you’ll just take a seat, sir, he’ll be done visiting with Sophie soon, and we should have an update at that time.”

  “I’ll be right here,” he said, pointing to the seat next to me.

  The nurse nodded at him and swiveled away on a chair two seconds later.

  “I’m Addison,” I said when he turned around. “I believe we spoke on the phone.”

  He squinted a little like he wished he had some reading glasses.

  I swallowed.

  He stuck out his hand. “Austin.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “So were you with Wyatt when he got the call?” he asked, sitting down.

  “Yes.”

  He squinted at me again. “You look like someone I used to know.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Who?”

  He waved the question away with his large hand. “Have they told you anything?”

  I shook my head. “She had a seizure when we arrived, and they made us leave the room. Last I heard she was in a coma.”

  “Jesus.”

  “I’m sorry I don’t know more-”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “And Wyatt’s back there with her now?” he asked, nodding towards the grey doors.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s been back there for a while. I’m sure he’ll be out any minute.”

  Austin nodded straight ahead, keeping his eyes on the doors.

  “I’m sorry. That’s a lie.”

  He looked at me.

  “I mean, he’s with her, but I have no idea how long he’s been back there. Time’s gone all funny and I-”

  “It’s okay.”

  I smiled.

  “And it’s two o’clock by the w
ay,” he said. “There’s a clock on the wall behind you.”

  I turned around to look at it. It was primary colors and its hands looked like crayons. “Thanks,” I said, gripping my knees. Then my eyebrows jumped up my face. All the years in Mrs. Collins house taught me that feeding people always fixed things. And if it didn’t, it was still worth a try. I reached for the bag below me and pulled it into my lap. “Can I interest you in something to keep your energy up?”

  He leaned forward and looked in the bag. “Got a spoon for that yogurt?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. It’s in the bottom of the bag.”

  He looked past me. “My daughter will probably want that.”

  I turned to look over my shoulder. A pretty blonde woman with an exaggerated side part was walking towards us with a little blonde girl in a black leotard and pink shorts, her hair in a tight bun.

  Austin shook his head when they reached us. “We can’t see her yet.”

  The woman’s mouth formed a straight line while the little girl stared at me from behind her mom’s leg.

  “Addison,” he said. “This is my wife Karen and my daughter Gigi.”

  I stood up and shook Karen’s hand. Her eyes looked dark and rested, like she saw through other people’s shit for a living.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “And you, too, Gigi,” I said, lowering my head and waving at the girl from a distance.

  “Say hi, Gigi,” Karen said.

  “Hi,” she peeped.

  “Hi what?” Karen asked, her hand on her daughter’s head.

  “Hi Alison,” Gigi said.

  “Addison,” Karen corrected.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “You got it.”

  “All we can do is wait right now,” Austin said. “But Addison has some snacks for you girls so get stuck in.”

  Karen rolled her eyes.

  Gigi raised her eyebrows.

  I gave her the white paper bag and watched her dig around. I think she would’ve stuck her whole face in if the top of the bag had been big enough.

  “How long have you been here?” Austin asked, sitting back down.

  “We arrived sometime before seven,” I said.

  “Oh, honey,” Karen said. “Do you want to go home and get cleaned up?” She reached forward and pulled a small bunch of pine needles out of my hair.

 

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