Unraveled (The Monroe Family Book 5)

by Nicole Dykes

I nod and he strides out of the room, always ready to take control of the situation. Shortly he returns, accompanied by an older man in a white coat who walks over to my bed, “Ah, Mr. Shriller. It’s good to see you again. I’m Dr. Payne, don’t let the name worry you though, I plan to keep this as painless as possible.”

  Yeah, I remember him briefly before they put me out. He used that same lame joke then too. “So doc, give me the rundown.”

  He nods and moves his electronic chart up to study, “Alright Mr. Shriller, you are a very lucky man.”

  Yeah, that’s how I feel shithead.

  He continues, “You have a lot of bumps and bruises and will be quite sore for a while, but there were no life-threatening injuries. We were able to repair a lot of damage in the surgery.”

  “What kind of damage?” I grit my teeth and wait for his reply.

  He just smiles over at me and is all business in his answer, “Well let’s start from the top, shall we?”

  I nod as he starts his really fucked up list. “Most of the injuries are on your right side, starting with the gash on your forehead that required quite a few stiches, but should heal nicely. You have a minor concussion, but nothing too serious.”

  “He doesn’t use his head anyway,” Jax jokes and I quickly flip him off with my good hand.

  The doctor ignores our antics and then continues, “You have several broken ribs that may be uncomfortable when you inhale and exhale.” Right, don’t breathe. Got it. “There’s not much we can do for them, it will take a while to heal. Just try to take it easy.” He nods to my right shoulder, “Now, your collarbone is broken, and unfortunately, the bones did not part cleanly, but are quite jagged. We did our best in a repair, but it may require a specialist later on. I want you to stay in the sling for most of the day for a few weeks, and we will give you instructions on how to stretch it without straining.”

  Great. I’ll be in a sling for a few weeks. “So, looks like I’m going to miss the race in two weeks.”

  For the first time since he walked in here, a look of real concern crosses the doctor’s face. “Mr. Shriller, it might be quite a while before you race again.”

  I look over at him and catch Brooke’s look of worry cross her face at the end of the bed. Dylan keeps his face clear of any emotion. “How long is quite a while?”

  The doctor’s eyes scan down and land on my lower half. I didn’t even think about my legs yet. Fuck! I quickly look down and see that both my legs are in fact there, but that my right one has a cast around the knee and my lower calf. Shit! This all needs to be a dream. “Mr. Shriller, your knee snapped from the impact. It’s a bad break and will likely require at least one more surgery and a lot of physical therapy. You will need physical therapy for the collarbone break as well, I’m afraid.”

  I swallow, trying to let this all sink in, “So how long before I can race again?”

  “We aren’t sure, Mr. Shriller. Ballpark and thinking optimistically, I would say about six months to a year.”

  I look at him in horror, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Shriller, calm down. They don’t really know right now,” Dylan assures me. But deep down, I know what the doctor is telling me is true. It’s going to be a while before I’m back on the track.

  Dr. Payne looks around the room and then back to me, “Is this your family?”

  I don’t even hesitate and I nod my head, “Yes.”

  “Good. It’s great to see that you have such a large support group. You’re going to need it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shrugs, “Well it’s going to be a while before you can drive again, and you will have a lot of doctor’s appointments and physical therapy appointments. Not to mention, you’ll need someone to help with general hygiene until you get the hang of it.”

  “Yeah, Jax is not giving me a sponge bath no matter how bad he wants to.”

  Jax smirks over at me before he says, “Dream on, pretty boy.”

  I laugh and turn my attention back to the doctor. “Anyway, they all live in Kansas and I live in L.A.”

  He purses his lips, “Hmm, well that’s disappointing. Do you have anyone in L.A. to help you with these things?”

  “I have a girlfriend, but she’s not my fucking nursemaid. I can take care of myself.”

  He still looks troubled, “Well, then you might need to hire a professional.”

  “No.”

  “You’ll need help, Mr. Shriller.”

  Fuck that. I’m thirty years old and I’m not an invalid. I don’t need someone taking care of me and certainly not my girlfriend. “No.”

  “Shriller, stop being such a stubborn asshole,” That comes from Alex and doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.

  The doctor must sense I’m getting sick of this shit and pats my left shoulder. “Alright, I’m going to let you rest, but I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “Am I going to be able to get out of here anytime soon?”

  He nods his head dismissively, already halfway out the door. “More than likely you will be released tomorrow afternoon.”

  With that he exits and Brooke looks over at me like she’s disappointed in my behavior. I ignore her impending lecture and ask instead, “Did anyone call Tiffany?”

  I can feel Alex rolling her eyes. She’s definitely not a fan.

  Brooke nods, “Yes. She’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

  I nod, “Good. Thanks.”

  Dylan clears his throat, “So, I think you should come and stay with Brooke and me for a bit.” Brooke nods her head agreeing with his insane proposal.

  I shake my head, “Look, that doctor is a quack. I’ll be fine. I don’t need someone to wipe my ass, and you guys have way too much going on to ask someone to move in with you.”

  Jax speaks up next, “You’re right. That’s fucking crazy. That’s why you’re gonna come stay with me.”

  I groan, “Jax, you mean with you and Charlotte. No offense, but fuck that. You guys are still in the honeymoon phase. I’m not going to listen to your muffled cries of passion for six months to a year.”

  I hear Alex laugh at that, and then I see Luke about to step up.

  I cut him off before he can say a word, “The same thing goes to you, man. I appreciate it, but Hannah will be home soon and I’ll be damned if I’ll be the third wheel during your few months together.” Hannah is Luke’s girlfriend who lives two hours away while she attends college and he works in K.C. with Jax and Dylan.

  I address the room, “You all are great, but I’m not living with any of you assholes. I’m fine and if for some reason, I do need help with anything, I do have a live-in girlfriend.”

  Alex scoffs, “Can that girl even work a toaster without getting electrocuted?”

  I look over at Alex who is standing with her arms crossed and not backing down after her comment. I’ll admit Tiffany isn’t necessarily the brightest, but she’s not nearly as dumb as they all treat her. She’s on her way to getting her college degree after all but lacks common sense occasionally. “I’m not worried about it and neither should any of you. Now, please go home. I’ll give all of you a call sometime soon when I get settled back in California.”

  Luke pats my shoulder, “I am flying out tonight to check on things, but Jax and I will be in L.A. in a couple of days anyway, so we will stop by.”

  Jax agrees and then adds, “I’m staying.”

  I glare over at him, “No. You take the same damn flight.” I quickly soften and say, “I’ll see you in a few days.”

  He gives in and nods, “Take care of yourself man.”

  Jax gives me a quick fist bump before following Luke out of the room, and my attention turns to Brooke and Dylan, or Mom and Dad, as we all lovingly call them behind their backs. “You guys go home and give your baby a kiss for me, alright?”

  Brooke shakes her head stubbornly, “No way. You need someone here. The kids are fine.”

  I shake my head, “I’m just going to sleep all night anyway
and Tiffany will be here in the morning. Please just go home.”

  Dylan wraps his arm around her, “We’re staying in a hotel tonight but might catch a morning flight out, after we call to check on you in the morning.”

  I nod, guessing that’s the best I’m going to get. They finally leave and I look over at Alex, who is still standing by my bed with a determined look on her face. Well hell, this won’t be as easy as the other ones.

  “Alex. I’m going to sleep. You don’t need to stay.”

  She moves to the small couch in the room and sits down, making herself comfortable, “I think I’ll stay here tonight. Getting a hotel is a pain in the ass.”

  “Alex…”

  “Don’t bother, Shriller.”

  I know there is no point arguing with her, there never is. Alex always wins. Might as well save my energy. It sounds like I’m going to need it.

  Chapter 2

  Shriller

  I

  wake up the next morning, still groggy and fucking irritated as hell at the situation I’m in. I can’t believe I may not be on the track for a year. What the hell am I going to do?

  Alex stirs on the tiny couch in my hospital room. She’s barely over five feet, but the couch still looks uncomfortable as hell. Why she stayed here, I’m still not sure. Alex is fiercely loyal though, so it’s not a huge shock.

  At least it wasn’t Jax trying to fit his massive frame on that couch all night. I laugh to myself at that thought and see Alex’s hazel eyes peering over at me. “What’s so funny?”

  I shake my head slightly, trying to ignore my pounding headache, “Nothing. Did you sleep at all?”

  She sits up slowly on the couch, her long dyed dark red hair falling out of the loose ponytail she had it in yesterday, “I hate hospitals.”

  “Then why did you stay?”

  She rolls her eyes and gives me a knowing look. We both know she stayed because no one wanted me to be alone last night. It’s still strange having a family in my life. One that rallies around no matter what is happening.

  I smile over at her shaking my head, silently thanking her. Our eyes move to the door when Tiffany walks into my room and gasps, covering her mouth, “Oh my God!” She runs over to my bed, her eyes assessing the damage. “I heard it was bad on the news, and Brooke said that you were pretty beat up, but I didn’t picture this.”

  I slowly shift my body upward in the bed, trying to hold on to some dignity. Being on display is nothing new to me. But laying here in this bed, I feel more vulnerable than I ever have before. “I’m fine. It’s really not as bad as it looks.”

  She shakes her head horrified, “Shriller have you seen yourself? My God, you look so….so broken!”

  I outwardly cringe at that word. I fucking hate that word.

  I hear Alex clear her throat across the room and look over to see her standing up from the couch and straightening her hair. “I’m going to go get a smoothie. You want a coffee?”

  I nod my head eagerly. “Yes, please. Black.”

  She nods and heads for the door as Tiffany shouts over to her, “I don’t need anything. Thanks.”

  I can see that Alex is biting her tongue, debating on whether to tell her she didn’t ask, but I plead with her with my eyes not to say anything. Thankfully, Alex just walks out silently.

  Tiffany sits down on the edge of my bed and looks up at me, not touching me. Her eyes are wide, and I understand why she’s freaked out. I haven’t seen myself in a mirror, but I can imagine what I look like. I reach down and take her small hand in mine “I’m okay.”

  She shakes her head, that seems to be all she can do. “You’re in casts and your face…”

  I smirk down at her, “What? The stitches don’t just make me sexier?” I try to joke.

  It does get her to loosen up a little and I pull her up so she is leaning on my good side. Her fingers stroke my jawline and then up over the cut on my lip and the gash on my forehead. I wince and she pulls back, “You will always be sexy.”

  I smile. All right, it’s going to be fine. We’ll get through this. “Damn straight.”

  Doctor Payne knocks on the door that is still open, and walks right in taking in the sight before him. Tiffany quickly stands up next to the bed, spooked, and the doctor gestures happily at her. “Ah, this must be the girlfriend?”

  I nod my head and introduce him quickly. She nods politely and then asks, “So, is he going to be okay? He says he’s fine, but it looks awful.”

  Dr. Payne is all business and states like he’s talking to a child, which is how a lot of people see Tiffany. “Your boyfriend is clearly a tough man. His body sustained quite the beating yesterday, but with a lot of work and perseverance he should heal fine.”

  “How much work?” Tiffany asks, cautiously.

  “Well, he will need a lot of physical therapy and quite possibly a few more surgeries.”

  Tiffany looks at me, looking almost betrayed, “I knew you weren’t fine.”

  “I will be.”

  The doctor interjects, “Of course he will be. It’s just going to take some time. Don’t worry, he will be good as new in no time.”

  I wish he would stop trying to help me. Tiffany looks beyond freaked out. “How much time?” she squeaks, like she is more afraid of the answer than I was.

  The older man scratches the stubble on his chin. “Well, it may be a year. These sort of injuries are very unpredictable. It’s a great thing he has you. He’s going to need help for a little while. Getting back and forth to surgeries and physical therapy and of course to get dressed and possibly cleaned up at first.” He winks at her, “I’m sure you won’t mind helping with that.”

  Fuck. I reach for Tiffany’s hand to soothe her, but she pulls away, and I say, “I don’t need help.”

  My doctor addresses me, with a stubbornness to match my own. “Mr. Shriller, You need to quickly get rid of your denial. The sooner you accept that you will need some assistance, the better.”

  “You know what? I’m all good here. The nurse that came in earlier said my vitals are great. Now sign me the fuck out of here so I can get on with things,” I growl, pissed off that he told Tiffany all of that bullshit.

  He finally accepts that I’m not having it and sighs, “I’ll have a nurse come in to discharge you. I really hope you’ll think about this further. We have great counselors on staff.”

  I glare at him, irritated. “I don’t need a counselor. I need to get out of here and back home.”

  He shakes my hand and then Tiffany’s before walking out of the door, defeated.

  Tiffany just stands there, staring at me and I reach for her hand again and pull her to my side, looking up at her. “Don’t listen to that shit. Okay? I don’t need your help with that stuff. I can easily hire a driver.”

  Her eyes scan my body. “I’m twenty-two. I can’t be someone’s caretaker.”

  I cringe, “I don’t want or need a caretaker.” I haven’t needed anyone to take care of me for a long time. I hold that thought in.

  “But you’re so….”

  I stop her before she can say that I’m broken. I can’t hear that word again “I’m not. It looks way worse than it is.”

  “Shriller. Your leg is broken, your arm is broken. Your face is beat up. He said you are going to need physical therapy and surgeries, and that it could be a year before you are healed. No more races. No more clubs. No more modeling. God, can you even have sex?”

  I’m a pretty easygoing guy. Ask anyone. And I’m usually really easygoing with her, but she’s starting to piss me off. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

  “Of course, I am!”

  I’m taken aback by her honesty and just stare at her for a second before asking, “Is that all this is?”

  Her expression softens, and she smooths down her loose blonde hair. “Of course not, but it’s a big part of it. I’m not the only one that feels that way. And it’s not just that. I’m twenty fucking two. I don’t want to be a nurse or a
caretaker. You aren’t going to be able to race or fuck for quite a while. I mean this is just a lot to take in.”

  “Well my cock still works. It wasn’t damaged and I’m sure we could figure that shit out. I never fucking said I needed a caretaker. And I’m pretty fucking pissed off about the no racing for a while thing too, in case you were wondering.” I spit out. I’m over this shit.

  “The doctor said you are in denial and I think he’s right. This is so much more than I signed on for.”

  I pull my hand out of hers and run it through my hair. Everyone was right. I hate that. They were all worried she was just with me for my fame and money, but I really thought we had something else. “Right.” It’s all I can say.

  “Look Adam,”–she never calls me Adam, it’s always been Shriller—“I’m sorry, it’s just I can’t do this. I thought it was just going to be a sprain or some bumps and bruises. A couple of weeks tops, but the next year of my life? Maybe more? I can’t give that up. These are my hottest years.”

  She’s totally serious. “Right. So, these last six months, they were just about being with “Shriller the Thriller?”

  She shrugs her shoulders, “No. I mean that was part of it. I loved bragging to my girlfriends and making them jealous. But I really liked spending time with you.” Her cheeks flush, not with embarrassment but with lust, when she adds, “And damn, the things that you can do with your mouth. Holy shit. I’m getting hot right now just thinking about it.”

  My eyes narrow at her, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  She straightens up, “We had fun. Okay? Maybe you can call me when you’re better?”

  I glare at her in utter shock. Is this girl for real? “I want your shit out of my house today. I’ll be changing the locks soon.”

  She leans down and kisses my cheek, unfazed, making me flinch away from her touch. “I really am sorry, Adam. Get well soon.”

  With that she bounces—fucking bounces—out of the room, without a care in the world. How the fuck did I misjudge that so poorly?

  Chapter 3

  Alex

  T