All or Nothing (All Series Book 1)

by Ann, Natalie

  “Delayed reaction. It happens.” He stepped back and led her to the couch. Sitting down, leaning against the corner and pulling her between his legs, he tugged her face against his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in your head right now. You won’t be able to move on until you do.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why I reacted that way.”

  “Yes, you do. Take a few deep breaths. Don’t think, just say the first thing that comes to your mind,” he told her gently, soothing her as best he could.

  “I thought you were going to be shot. All those guns,” she said in a rush, her breathing increasing again. He looked down, saw her face was white as a ghost and was glad she was reclining in his arms, because she looked like she was going to pass out again.

  “Close your eyes, Presley. Deep breaths, in and out. Don’t pass out on me again. I’ve got you.”

  A few minutes later, her breathing was nice and level again, and her eyes fluttered open. “Thanks. I should be nursing you right now, not the other way around,” she said lighthearted.

  There was no humor to it though, and there wouldn’t be when Ben was done. Because she wasn’t even close to telling him what was going on, he knew. Ignoring her comment, he asked another question. “Tell me about your fear of guns, Presley. Don’t say it’s nothing. I know better than anyone, and tonight just proved it. So tell me where it comes from.”

  Her breathing increased again, and she started to shake, but he kept running his hands up and down her back, trying to calm her as best he could.

  “I never told you much about my childhood… ” she started to say and then stopped.

  “No. And I haven’t asked. But I would like to know.” Somehow he knew all along this was related, and however she got to the point of telling him, he would let her go at her own pace.

  “I was a mistake.” He stilled, but before he could say anything, she continued on. “I know that because my mother told me plenty enough times. She and my father only wanted one child. Chad. And they loved him more than anything else in the world. More than each other at times.”

  She stopped and wiped away a few tears that had slipped out of her eyes. “My father never came right out and told me I was a mistake, but he never denied it either. He was nicer about it, but I knew.”

  Ben didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t even imagine someone not wanting her. Not wanting their own child at all, but especially someone as wonderful, loving and caring as Presley.

  “Chad wanted me though. He and I were close. I was always a tomboy as a kid,” she said with a faint chuckle. “I guess it’s because I wanted to be more like him, hoping maybe my parents would love me like they did him. Or at least pay attention to me. But it never happened.”

  He ran his hand across her cheek. “I’m sure they loved you in their own way.”

  “No, they didn’t. And I knew it. Or maybe they did, but it wasn’t the way I needed or wanted. I accepted it and moved on. After a while I didn’t care to be honest. I had Chad, and we were a team, until…”

  “Until he died,” Ben finished for her.

  “Yeah. Until he died.” She stopped, then pushed her head up and looked at him. “I was supposed to be with them that day. I wanted to be, and thought they were going to let me go, but in the end my father said he wanted a boys’ day out. And I wasn’t one of the boys.”

  “I’m glad you weren’t with them, Presley. If you were, I may never have gotten to know you.” And love you, but he kept that part to himself. She needed to finish and that would only distract her.

  “The first words out of my mother’s mouth were ‘why couldn’t it have been you?’ I was stunned. I was eleven years old, and I just found out my brother—my best friend—had died, not to mention my father. Even though he and I weren’t close, he was still my father and I loved him. And my mother said that to me.”

  Unbelievable, and nothing Ben could have ever fathomed any parent telling their child. He was speechless. There was nothing he could even say that would make a difference, so he kept his mouth closed.

  Presley pushed on through his silence. “It only got worse. They had to medicate her to get her through the services. My aunt—my father’s sister—came in from out of town and took care of everything. I never really knew her, had only met her a few times, but she was nice enough. She came in and took care of all the arrangements and such, but she didn’t do much for me. She didn’t have any kids and I could tell she didn’t know how to handle me. I was quiet and didn’t want to talk to anyone. I really just wanted my mother… who wanted nothing to do with me. I felt somehow she was blaming me for it all.”

  “Presley, you weren’t to blame. How could it be your fault? How could you even think she blamed you for their deaths?”

  “I was eleven, Ben. Lots of crazy things go through your mind at eleven. But there was no one there for me to talk to, for me to tell what I was feeling. Eventually I talked to some school counselors and they made me realize that. And it helped, but everything at home just fell apart.”

  She shifted her body and snuggled in on his chest some more. “My mother couldn’t handle being alone. Being left with me. So she started to drink to get through. At first it was a few glasses at night—to help her sleep, she said. But little by little it turned into a few when she got home from work, then she needed a glass before work, to take the edge off.”

  “Her illness… she was an alcoholic?” he asked, but he knew the answer.

  “Yeah. It’s an illness, don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. She was a functioning one, which isn’t much different. She held down a job. She worked for a small insurance company, and the owner kept her on. I think he felt bad for her—and felt bad for me. He was nice, always sent over gifts at Christmas and for my birthday. He said he did it for all his employees, but I didn’t really believe him. I think he wanted me to have something.” She ran her hands up and down his arm, almost like she needed the contact. “Anyway, we weren’t poor. There was a life insurance policy from my father, and her job, but she just didn’t… care for me. When I was old enough, I just took over everything. I paid all the bills, cleaned the house, and cooked. I did it all. If I didn’t, it didn’t get done.”

  “So you were the mother and she was the child?”

  “Pretty much. You asked me once why I became a nurse and I said it seemed like the thing to do. That’s why. I had been taking care of my mom for years.”

  Even though she was a child herself, but he kept those words to himself also.

  “It wasn’t just the household things I took care of. She fell a lot, so I cleaned her up the best I could. She would pass out and throw up in her sleep. All those things that drunks do.”

  He didn’t like where this was going, not at all. “Did she choke on her vomit and you found her that way?” he asked, but hated doing so.

  “No. That isn’t what happened at all. It would have been better if that was the case, but it wasn’t.”

  Presley paused and stayed quiet for a moment, and he let her. He didn’t like the feeling of the shoe getting ready to drop, but he knew it was going to. This all started out with her fear of guns.

  “A few weeks after my eighteenth birthday, I came home from school. I was in college, the nursing program at the community college. Her car was in the driveway, but I didn’t really think it was so strange. It wasn’t the first time I’d come home from school and she was there. Usually drinking, or passed out, but again, no surprise.”

  Ben laced his fingers through hers, felt how clammy they were and realized she was struggling again. Her breathing was choppy, and her eyes were closed, but she kept pushing on. He knew she needed to, but a part of him wanted to tell her to stop, that she didn’t need to go on, that he didn’t want to know.

  “When I walked in the door she was lying on the couch. There was blood everywhere—on the couch, on the floor, probably not as much as I think, l
ooking back, but it was a lot to me. It was a shock. I froze and stared at her body. I knew she was dead, knew she took her own life. I shouldn’t have even been surprised by it, she had been selfish for years.”

  Running his hand up and down her back, he tried to comfort her as best he could but realized there wasn’t much he could do. She had come this far, and the tears were just running down her face and soaking his shirt.

  “She left a note. It said ‘Presley, you’re an adult now. You don’t need me. I can’t live without them. There has been a hole in my heart from the day they died, what is one more?’ She shot herself in the chest, Ben. A bullet right through her heart. Everything she did was dramatic, even her death. But she was wrong. I had been an adult since the day my father and brother died. I stopped needing her years before, when she stopped being a mother.”

  Stunned and shaken, Ben could only stay there on the couch, staring at the wall. Never in a million years did he expect to hear what she just said to him. And he didn’t know where to go from here. He only knew that he could never leave her. He never wanted to leave her.

  She had to be the strongest, most beautiful, caring person in the world, and he was saddened and amazed that no one saw it or wanted her but him.

  Baggage

  The next morning, Presley rolled over and found the bed empty. No surprise, Ben had to go to work. And frankly, she wasn’t even startled that he didn’t give her a kiss good-bye this morning. He was probably running for the hills right now, and she wouldn’t blame him. Not with the freight train of baggage she dumped on him last night. Obviously, she couldn’t even handle her own baggage. She didn’t expect him to either.

  Forcing her drained and sore body into the bathroom, she turned the shower on and undressed slowly. Her body felt as if that very same freight train of baggage had just hit her. Stepping under the hot spray, she stayed there, letting it run over her head, and soothing her as best it could. Too bad it wouldn’t soothe the ache inside of her.

  Unaware, more tears poured out, leaving her standing in the shower much longer than she intended. Finally exiting, she dried off, then wrapped a towel around her hair, pulled on sweats and reached forward to wipe the steam from the mirror.

  Then wished she didn’t when she saw the reflection staring back at her. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, not to mention bright red. Even her nose was red. She looked like hell.

  Turning the water on cold, she soaked a washcloth, then applied it to her eyes and held it there until the coldness was gone. Repeating it a few more times until she was satisfied most the swelling had disappeared.

  Rummaging around in the medicine cabinet, she found eye drops and used them, cursing against the burning sensation, but knowing it would help with the redness. Content she looked almost human, she left the bathroom and made her way to the kitchen.

  She stopped midstride to see Ben sitting at the counter, drinking a cup of coffee and typing on his phone. “Good morning, Presley,” he said without looking up at her.

  “What are you doing here? I thought you would be at work.”

  He stopped what he was doing, looked up at her, then tilted his head to the side. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”

  Her heart beat fast in her chest. No one had ever put their life on hold for her. Not enough to stay and hold her all night while she cried. Not to mention, wait for her in the morning to see if she was okay.

  Looking at the clock, she realized he must have been sitting there for easily four hours, since he always woke before five. Unsure how to proceed, she walked forward intending to make a cup of coffee.

  But he beat her to it, standing up and blocking her way, then told her to sit down. “I’ll get it for you. Do you want something to eat?”

  “No, coffee is good for now. I’m not sure my stomach can handle anything at the moment.”

  He nodded, handed her the coffee, exactly the way she liked it, then sat next to her at the counter. No words said at all. He just looked at her, watched her actions, then leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips as he ran his hand over her head, across her cheek and down her arm. “You look better.”

  She blinked back the tears and forced out a laugh. “Considering I just spent twenty minutes trying to get rid of any signs of last night, I don’t need you getting my eyes all red and puffy again.”

  He chuckled but didn’t put his usual grin in place. He wasn’t trying to hide behind it this morning. It seemed monumental to her that he wasn’t, but she couldn’t focus on that right now either. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go there. “Are you going into work today?”

  “Soon. I need to go to the police station and give my statement. Lucas has been sending me messages too. I need to see him this afternoon.”

  “Didn’t you tell him you were good? Or does he want to see for himself?” she asked.

  He smiled grimly. “No, I need to file reports with the legal department. There will be an inquiry on my actions, the protocol taken, and how things might have been handled differently. Then he and I need to figure out what actions might be taken to prevent this again. Not to mention potential lawsuits. I hate lawyers even more than I hate paperwork… or shopping,” he added, then gave her a genuine smile.

  She ignored his attempt at joking. “Do you need to worry about a lawsuit? You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, feeling her anxiety building in his defense. “Do you have to hire your own attorney?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “Well, I wouldn’t have far to go if I needed one, since my sister just married one of the best defense attorneys in the area. But no, I don’t need one. That is what the hospital’s legal team is for. And Lucas assured me he would handle the case personally, not that I expected any differently. Nor do I expect anything to come of it. But we have to cover our bases.”

  “That makes sense.” She took another sip of her coffee and noticed half of it was gone. She didn’t even realize she had been drinking it while they were talking. Her mind was all over the place right now. “Let me finish this up and get dressed. Then I’ll go to the police station with you.”

  He frowned. “No. Stay here and relax. I’ll come back and get you, then bring you to work. There is no reason for you to go with me.” He held his hand up when she started to protest. “I don’t need you there passing out on me,” he said with a trace of humor, obviously trying to cover up what might really be going on in his mind.

  “I’m not going to pass out.” She reached over and ran her hand across the stubble on his cheek. “Thank you for last night. I guess I’ve had things bottled up for a long time, and once they started to leak out there was no stopping them.”

  “Don’t thank me, Presley. I’m not feeling real charitable. And frankly if your mother were here right now, she and I would be having some words. I didn’t like what you told me last night, not one bit. I want to go back in time and change everything that happened to you. Everything you felt and everything you had to go through. But I can’t. And as much as I want to do it, I wouldn’t.”

  She stared at him, alarmed and puzzled. “Why?”

  “Why, what?”

  “Why wouldn’t you go back and change anything?” It made no sense at all to her, why he would defend her, why he would say what he did about all the things that happened, then turn around and say he wouldn’t change it.

  “Because if I did, then you wouldn’t have turned into the woman I fell in love with.” He stood up, gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked out the door before she could respond.

  ***

  Ben returned to Presley’s hours later. After talking with her this morning he had gone home, changed clothes and shaved. Then he ran for an hour on the treadmill. He was wound up tight and needed to clear his mind. In order to do that, he had to get rid of some of the pent up emotions within him.

  He’d had no intention of telling her he loved her. He had no right to say it to her, not with everything she had gone through the last twenty-four hours, but he
couldn’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

  Only he didn’t want to wait around for her to respond. He didn’t want her to feel like she had to say them back, not if she didn’t feel it. And he wasn’t sure what she was feeling.

  When he was done with his run—and self-lecturing, because even though he loved her, there were parts of him that had greater baggage than Presley’s—he went to the police station and gave his statement. It was pretty cut and dry. There were enough witnesses to what happened last night.

  On his way back to Presley’s, he stopped and picked up a few sandwiches, figuring they could have a quick lunch and he could bring her in early for her shift. Opening the door, he smelled lemons. “What have you been doing?”

  “Sorry, I needed to do something, so I cleaned. Then I baked. I don’t know why, but when I’m antsy I clean and then bake. Hope you like lemon bars.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He held up the bag. “I picked up some sandwiches for us. Then if you don’t mind, I thought I could bring you in early. There’s a lot to do today.”

  “No problem.” She walked back into the kitchen, pulled out plates and silverware, grabbed a few sodas out of the refrigerator and sat down next to him. They sat there silently eating for a few minutes, until she said. “Can I ask you something?”

  He turned to her. “Sure.” He held his breath, waiting for her to bring up what he said before he walked out the door. Waiting for her to start in on the talk about how she wasn’t ready for it.

  Instead she stunned him. “Will you tell me about Trent?”

  He continued to eat, processed the question in his head, and decided that considering everything he pushed her to say last night, the least he could do was say a few things. “What do you want to know?”

  “Well, I know the ring you wear has something to do with him. I know he was your best friend, and that he died, and you left the service shortly after. Why don’t you tell me about him as a person? What was he like?”