Just Right: The Bradfords, Book 1
Page 27
Hell, if he could spend his nights in Jessica’s bed maybe he could even handle spending his days in the ER again.
The bite of pancake he’d taken seemed to swell in size and lodge at the back of his throat, making it impossible to breathe or swallow.
He coughed, trying to dislodge the blockage, to think and to not panic.
He grabbed the coffee cup and drank gratefully, feeling the mass soften and move down his throat. He coughed again and drank once more.
Was he seriously considering returning to work?
He glanced at Jessica and found her watching him with concern, her mouth moving even though he couldn’t hear what she was saying.
She got up on her knees, putting her face closer to his and it hit him that yes, he could go to work and do what he loved in spite of the pain and disappointment if he had this woman to look forward to. Jessica would support and encourage and celebrate his work with him, but would also help him make his life about more than what happened at work.
His ears felt like they’d suddenly popped open after yawning on an airplane. “What?” he asked.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look…weird.”
He felt weird. But not bad weird. Confused weird. Weird weird.
“I’m fine. Who’s with Mario?” Ben asked to change the subject.
Sam, Sara, Jessica, Ben and several people from the center had made sure that Mario was rarely alone in the three days since his surgeries. Ben didn’t want Jessica to go back to the hospital just yet and knew she would if someone else wasn’t there.
“Sara should be soon. She was coming at five-thirty,” Sam said, stretching to his feet. “He was fast asleep when I left. He got up tonight and sat at the table to eat the McDonald’s hamburger and fries that somebody brought in. It wiped him out.”
“He got up?” Ben asked. That was great progress. Mario had steadily improved over the last few days but he was still very lethargic and easily lost his energy. “That’s good news.” At least the boy kept trying to do more.
Jessica grinned at him and plopped back down in the chair, evidently satisfied that Ben was all right. “I’ll have to take him some of those ice cream sandwiches he likes so much when I go over later.”
“Later?” Ben asked.
“This afternoon, probably,” she said.
“You’re going to wait that long?” He was surprised that she was able to wait to see Mario up and moving around for herself.
She looked up at him with a small, almost sheepish smile. “He won’t be alone.”
“No. But I figured you’d want to be there.”
“I want to be here more right now.” Her expression changed minutely and her voice only dropped slightly, but Ben knew exactly what she was talking about and felt equal measures of arousal and flattery.
She was staying here because of him.
“I’ll go with you. Later,” he said.
She smiled and opened her mouth to reply but suddenly her cell phone rang from the black bag that sat on the breakfast bar. Then Sam’s cell phone started singing and Ben’s pager started beeping from where he’d laid it on the end table.
They all looked at each other, eating, drinking and teasing suspended.
Two rings later, Jessica was the first to speak.
“Oh, crap.”
Jessica scrambled for her phone while Ben headed for his pager.
“It’s a hospital number,” Jessica read from her caller ID.
“Me too,” he said, retrieving the call-back number on his pager. “Who are you talking to?” he asked Sam.
Sam seemed distracted when he looked up. “Sara,” he said simply.
Ben felt his stomach cramp. This didn’t feel good at all.
He grabbed the phone that sat on the end table and punched in the number from his pager.
“Dr. Torres,” he told the woman who answered.
“This is Mary, Dr. Torres. I’m the head nurse tonight.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m calling about Mario Riccio.”
“What’s the problem?” he asked shortly.
“We can’t find him.”
Ben paused, processing what she said. “What the hell are you talking about?” His volume drew both Sam’s and Jessica’s attention.
“He’s gone,” Mary answered simply.
“He was discharged?” Ben asked tightly. There was no way that kid was medically stable enough to be discharged. Somebody was definitely going to get yelled at.
“No. He left AMA.”
Against medical advice. What the hell…
“When?”
“We’re not…exactly sure,” Mary said hesitantly.
Ben pulled his hand over his face. “He snuck out?”
There was a pause then Mary said, “He must have.”
Terrific. Just fucking perfect.
Surprisingly he sounded calm when he asked, “What were his last vitals?”
Mary recited the numbers for him and Ben kept from swearing. Barely.
“You’ve notified Dr. Borchers?” Ben asked.
“He’s the one that asked me to call you. He said he was very concerned and hoped that you would know where Mario might be.”
“I will be in touch,” Ben said. “I want to know the second anyone knows anything.”
He folded the cell phone shut, took a deep breath, gripping the phone tightly, then relaxing his hand, hoping the action would relax the monstrous ball of frustration and worry that was knotting his shoulders and his gut. It didn’t work.
Mario had left the hospital AMA.
“Son of a bitch!”
Ben hurled the phone against the living room wall.
Sam looked at him with raised eyebrows and told Sara he needed to go. Jessica jumped about a foot and whirled around, her eyes wide. Seeing Ben’s furious expression she disconnected without a word to whoever was on the other end.
Ben shoved both hands through his hair, glared at the phone in pieces on the floor near the corner of the couch and didn’t feel one damn bit sorry…or one damn bit better. He wished he could break it again. And maybe a lamp or two.
“Ben?” Jessica asked.
Without answering her, he stalked across the room, then spun on his heel and stalked back, feeling claustrophobic.
“What the fuck is he thinking?” Ben demanded when he ran out of living room space. “He’s barely stable!”
“I know.”
Ben turned on her. “Where is he?”
Jessica stared at him. “I have no idea.”
“None?” he demanded stalking over to where she stood. He saw her step back, but didn’t let up. “You must have some idea.”
“The center—”
“Sara said she’s been talking to the kids—everyone she can think of. Nobody’s seen him,” Sam interrupted. “But she can’t find Tony or Reuben.”
Ben felt his chest tightening. “They helped him leave.”
“Probably,” Sam agreed.
“Three stupid kids,” Ben muttered. “Good God.” He scowled down at Jessica again. “He doesn’t go anywhere else? Come on! Think!”
Jessica glared right back at him. “Knock it off. We’re just as worried as you are.”
He felt like a jackass yelling at Jessica like she had snuck Mario out of the hospital, but he couldn’t calm down enough to say anything close to I’m sorry. He was pissed off. He was worried. He was frustrated. And the only thing he was sorry about was getting involved in this whole mess to start with.
Which was Jessica’s fault, as a matter of fact.
“What the hell is the matter with that kid?” Ben asked, pacing again, clenching and unclenching his fist. “He could die. He isn’t stable. He could hit his head on a cupboard door and drop over dead!”
“I know,” Jessica replied.
Ben paced the other way. “He could pull stitches and bleed internally. There could be another small bleed that we missed. He could bleed to death!”
“I know,” Jessica said, more firmly.
Ben turned on his heel again. “Was he hit that hard? So hard that he can’t comprehend something like ‘you could die’? I’m surprised he could walk out of there in the first place. I’m surprised he could figure out which direction to go. He could die!”
“I know!” Jessica finally shouted.
Ben stopped and glared at her. He knew he was ranting but he couldn’t stop. At least the yelling and pacing was getting rid of some of this energy.
“The ungrateful little shit!” Ben went on. Mario skipped out the minute he was able to move around, without acknowledgement or thanks. Certainly without thought to anyone’s effort or sacrifice on his behalf. “We spent all that time putting him back together so that he could go out and fuck it all up again!” He didn’t have words to express how truly pissed off and insulted and disappointed he was.
“Mario doesn’t know his risk. He doesn’t know what you did for him,” Jessica said, coming to him.
Ben gritted his teeth so hard he almost ground his molars flat. “He didn’t notice the IV tube stuck in his arm, or the hospital bed he was laying in, or the bandage around his head? He didn’t know that there were doctors and nurses working their asses off to keep him comfortable and healing and…alive?” Ben asked sarcastically. “He basically gave the finger to everyone who worked on him! And your sister who called the ambulance,” Ben said, pointing at Jessica. “And you who rushed down to be there with him. And your buddies,” he said, turning to point at Sam, “in the ambulance. All those people who spent their time trying to make sure he gets more time and how does he thank them? By walking out like he doesn’t give a shit. I don’t know why I bothered.”
“You don’t mean that.” Jessica almost couldn’t find her voice.
Ben was upset. She understood that. She wasn’t real thrilled with the situation herself. In fact, she was nearly scared to death wondering where Mario was and why he’d walked out.
Ben rounded on her. “I don’t mean it?” he repeated.
He studied her for so long she shifted her weight from foot to foot and tucked her hair nervously behind her ears. As he stared, she became increasingly aware of the fact that Ben could look at her and really see her. He knew her body in a way no one else on the planet did and he could likely conjure images of every detail fairly easily. It hadn’t even been seven hours since they’d last been joined as intimately as two people could be.
She shook off the feeling that Ben was trying to see her very thoughts. “You sound like you did that day in the ER with Ted Blake,” she said, crossing her arms.
One of Ben’s eyebrows went up and he came toward her. “Maybe that’s because that’s still me. And I’m still sick of helping people who won’t help themselves and who don’t give a shit about people who try to help them. What do you think of that, Jessica?” He stopped directly in front of her, leaned in and stared her down.
She tried not to let her lip tremble or her eyes fill as Ben leaned back, put his hands in his pockets and narrowed his eyes.
“See, I wish I’d known it…the fact that Mario would basically tell me to fuck off. Because those hours I spent at the hospital making sure he was taken care of, assisting in saving his life, I could have better spent here, with you in bed. Or getting drunk. Or seeing a movie. Or scrubbing my damn bathtub. Any of that would have been more fun and more worthwhile.”
Jessica pressed her lips together, not wanting to cry and not wanting to say the first few things that tried to come out of her mouth.
“Easy, Ben,” Sam said, his voice low with warning.
But Ben didn’t even blink. Jessica put her hand up to halt her brother as he came to his feet, obviously willing to step in if Ben didn’t back off.
Ben was upset. He was being rude to upset her, to start the fight he was obviously spoiling for. He was lashing out at her because she was a safe outlet for his emotions. That didn’t make her any happier to be that outlet, however. She was worried and frustrated too. She was mad at Mario for his foolish decision to leave the hospital too. She just wasn’t taking that decision personally.
“Not everything that needs to be done in life is fun and worthwhile,” she said.
She knew that statement was true for a fact. She couldn’t count high enough to number all the things she’d done that were neither entertaining or rewarding, but that needed doing, that were her responsibility to do.
“And, as I’ve told you before, over and over, I am done with those things.”
The force and finality of his voice made her believe that he really believed he could turn his back on this crisis, on Mario, but there was one flaw in his plan. To walk away from this he had to turn his back on her too. And she couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe that he would do that.
What about the times when she was the one who had screwed up? Who did something he didn’t agree with? Who made the wrong choice?
She had to know that Ben would be there beside her, unconditionally, when the chips were down. If she couldn’t trust that then…
She shut that train of thought down. She couldn’t deal with that right now on top of everything with Mario.
“We have to find him. He needs to know what the risk is. He needs to know what’s going on.”
Ben stared at her for several seconds, his eyes probing hers, before he took a deep breath, then slowly shook his head. “No.”
Jessica blinked several times. “No, what?”
“I’m not going. I know that’s what you’re thinking. But I’m not doing it.”
“You have to.” She needed him. She needed him to tell her it would be okay. He didn’t have to find Mario, but he sure as hell had to hold her hand while they tried.
“No, I don’t.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her defiantly. “When he walked out of that hospital, he took himself out of my care.”
She shook her head as her stomach tightened. “Ben, he needs you.” I need you. She wanted to say that, but the words stuck in her throat.
Because she was afraid it wouldn’t matter and she didn’t think she could face that right now. Or ever.
“I know he does. But he should have thought of that before he walked out.”
“He’s just a kid. He needs us to find him, to make him do the right thing.”
“I don’t care.”
She felt the knot in her stomach solidify into a lead ball. “You do,” she insisted, feeling the sting of tears. “You swallowed your pride and went in to work on him even when you didn’t want to before, because it was the right thing to do.”
Ben’s frown deepened and she saw the muscles in his arms tighten. She could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves.
“And what if I hadn’t?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I hadn’t gone in there that night in the ER?” He came forward, his eyes stormy. “What if I hadn’t taken over Mario’s case?” He came closer until he was towering over her, his frustration nearly palpable. “What if I’d said no…like I should have?”
Jessica met his eyes and stood straight even when his aggravation nearly pushed her over. In a flash that took her breath for a moment she found herself in her father’s shoes.
How many times had she stood defiantly in front of him, telling him exactly the opposite of what he wanted to hear? Many. Too many.
Tears pricked at the backs of her eyes. Dammit. This hurt. Even more than she’d known.
And what had her father always done? When she’d said I’m leaving anyway. I don’t care what you think. No. He’d always said that he loved her. And he’d always been there when she’d come home.
She took a deep breath. “I would still love you,” she said. “Even if you’d said no, even if you hadn’t gone in.”
It was true and she could tell he needed to hear it. Just like she needed to say it. Her love for Ben wasn’t about what he did with his hands, his time, his career. It was about what he did with
his heart.
Which was why she really freaking needed him to come with her right now.
“You’re not angry?” he asked, his eyes telling her he didn’t believe that for a moment.
“Yes. I’m definitely angry.”
“Disappointed?”
“Very.”
“But you don’t want to take back any of the things you’ve said?”
It mattered to him. She could tell. She didn’t know how things were gong to turn out with them. She didn’t know how things were going to turn out with Mario. But what she did know, firsthand from her dad, was how to love someone no matter what. “Of course not.”
He stared at her for several seconds. Then said, “You can’t take it back.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to shoot some pool.”
Her stomach dropped. He wasn’t going with her. He wasn’t going to be holding her hand. “Okay,” she said, fighting her tears.
She didn’t point out that it was before the bars or pool halls would be open. She also didn’t say a thing about drinking, gambling or other women.
Her dad had tried talking her out of the things she’d insisted on doing. He’d given her all the reasons she should do what he wanted. It hadn’t worked. It had made her more determined to show him that he didn’t get a say. Then the guilt had made her resent him.
She didn’t want Ben to do anything out of guilt. Or even because he loved her. Or for any other reason than because he chose to do the right thing.
And she wanted a say in Ben’s life. But only if he gave her that privilege. She wouldn’t just take it.
She also had to keep hoping that she had inherited her father’s stamina for loving someone in spite of being disappointed in them repeatedly.
Finally, Ben rammed a hand through his hair, swore under his breath and turned toward the front door. He grabbed his shoes from the floor by the door before yanking it open and disappearing without a look back.
Chapter Twelve
Ben wanted to have a huge, raging hard-on.
For someone other than Jessica Bradford.
Someone like Amber, for instance.