Mr. So Wrong

by R. C. Stephens

  “I’m going to call Kell, tell her to feed Snow,” Mack mumbles. She seems to always be on top of things. I nod and she walks up to me and squeezes my shoulder. “You care about her. I can see that.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. I nod but words fail me because if I speak, I fear I will cry. Crying right now seems wrong. I’ve only known Sam a short while. I have her dad and sister sitting here with me, and they are keeping themselves together so I should too. I realize just how under my skin Samantha Belmont truly is.

  A man wearing scrubs and a cap walks toward us. And we all stand up. He introduces himself. “I’m Dr. Yang. I’m the neurosurgeon assigned to Samantha,” he explains. “Cat scan shows she has a minor bleed in her brain. She’s very lucky it isn’t a lot worse. I’m hoping we don’t need to operate since that involves risks of its own. The next forty-eight hours will be critical and we’ll repeat the CT scan. Assuming it’s the same or smaller, she likely won’t need surgery and it will resolve on its own. We’ll be doing round the clock neuro checks on her, monitoring her progress. She needs to rest now. I’m going to limit one visitor in the room at a time since I don’t want her over stimulated.”

  “What happens next? What does this mean?” Mack takes a step forward.

  “We repeat the CT scan in about 48 hours. Once we get the results, we’ll know how to proceed. She’s experienced head trauma. It will take time to heal. For now we wait. Like I said, she’s lucky the bleed is minor and is not in a dangerous spot, but it’s still considered a severe injury. I know you’re looking for more definitive answers. Her vitals are stable.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Mack answers, and she looks to Joe and then to Autumn.

  “Is it okay if I go in first?” she asks. Everybody nods for her to go ahead. She’s so young, but she definitely acts like Sam’s mother.

  I exhale harshly and take a seat on a chair in the waiting room. At least her vitals are stable, even though I know that doesn’t mean much. A head injury is never a good thing.

  About twenty minutes later Mack comes back, and Joe Belmont heads into Sam’s room. Mack tells me she’s sleeping. She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze again before walking over to Autumn. Autumn embraces her in a hug. I sit and wait. I’m a stranger. I barely know Sam. I barely know the Belmonts, and yet I sit here and my heart aches.

  It’s been 72 hours since we found Sam unconscious. I’ve watched every hour tick by at a slow pace. I’ve been in to see her. She’s been sleeping every time. The doctor has been giving her medication to keep her asleep in the hope her injury will heal. The bleed in her brain is improving on its own, which means she won’t need surgery and that’s a relief.

  “They’re just taking her for the CT scan now,” Joe Belmont says to me. I picked my stuff up from the Belmont Ranch and moved to the family cabin where Izzy is staying. I hate staying in a place owned by my mother and stepfather, but my choices are limited. Besides, I’ve been spending my days and most nights at the hospital, praying for Sam. It’s New Year’s Day now. I spent New Year’s Eve in Sam’s hospital room. I don’t say much. I sit and watch her, willing her body to heal.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I answer and it still feels hard to breathe, like an elephant has taken up permanent residence on my chest. He claps me on the back and walks away to sit on a chair in the far corner of the room. He doesn’t have a cell phone, so he just sits and watches the TV. It looks like he’s staring into thin air. Joe Belmont is a hard shell to crack, that’s for damn sure.

  More hours pass and the doctor returns. “She’s awake. Her speech is clear. It will be about an hour for the radiologist to read the scan results. She passed her initial neurological tests with flying colors,” Dr. Yang says, and we all let out the breath we were holding.

  “That’s really good news,” Mack says to her dad. Autumn stayed on the ranch with Ethan. She looks to me too. “I really do believe she’s going to pull through,” she says, and her eyes well up with tears.

  “And I’m selling that damn bull,” her father chimes in.

  Mack huffs. “Good luck with that.”

  “I don’t give a fuck. It’s gone,” he says with that deep throaty voice of his.

  I don’t say much. I sit and wait until it’s my turn to see Sam. When Mack calls me to her room, my heart picks up speed. I’ve hated watching Sam looking so fragile, lying in that hospital bed. She’s been too quiet, too still. With her eyes shut, I can’t see the usual fire burning in the depths of her blue eyes, and it irks me. Only now when I walk into her room her eyes are open and relief washes over me. The bruising on her face looks a little less swollen.

  “Why are you still here, City?” she murmurs, her voice scratchy and weak. Her first words throw me off. I don’t know what I was expecting. She wanted to use sex to make herself feel good the last time we were together, and I didn’t allow it. I left her angry. She got hurt and I’ve had all this quiet time to contemplate my life and figure out what she means to me. Her words feel like a rough wave has knocked me over, even if I’m glad she sounds like her old self.

  “I’m here for you,” I snicker, but it’s garbled and sad. I look deep into her eyes and moisture pools in my own.

  She senses my worry, and her own eyes soften. I haven’t seen her emotional before, and I watch her exhale softly. She shakes her head like she’s fighting back tears.

  “You’re supposed to rest, and I’m going to stick around while you do. Gotta say, Sam, I’m relieved you have a hard knocker, but why would you get on that crazy bull? One look in that things eyes and you can see it’s one crazy animal.”

  She swallows hard and the moisture that builds up in my eyes makes an appearance. I swipe at it quick. My words are meant to sound easy and lighten the mood, even though I’m having a hard time keeping my emotions in check. Her lips look dry and chapped, and a stray tear escapes slowly, making its way down her cheek. “You’re starting to sound an awful lot like my old man,” she says and her lips turn up slightly. It’s as if we are both bombarded with such intense emotions, but we are somehow burying what we feel. We are making light of the situation. We are running away. I see the pattern now. It’s as clear as day. Funny that I should fall for a woman who has the same personality as me. How could we ever work? My answer is also clear as the light of day. I need to work on myself. I need to act as guide to the both of us because she is young and clearly hurting.

  “You going to tell me that I’m almost as old as him too?” I chuckle because I want to make her smile, and she does. It warms my chest. “That’s what I thought.”

  “You’re a hot old man.” She pouts, and I like those words. I like that she’s finally acknowledging that there is something here between us.

  “Glad to see you’re feeling better.” I sigh.

  “I fucked up,” she says, and even though her cheeks are pale, they still turn a little crimson.

  “You’re saying that to the man you found passed out in his car in a snow storm?” I remind her, and she gives me a look that says I have a point. “I didn’t want to kill myself that night, but I almost did. And just so you know, I wouldn’t mind keeping the part about the sleeping pills private. Now that you know who I am, I don’t need a media shit storm to ensue because of it.”

  “My lips are sealed.” She presses her lips together and gives me a slight nod. She’s still hooked up to all kinds of machines. “Besides, I’ve made some poor decisions in my life. Some of them good, some of them hard. Some of them just plain hard to live with. I’ve been holding myself back,” she says, and it brings my mind back to the conversation I had with her when I told her about walking away from my family.

  “I know all about that.” My lip quirks to one side. I take hold of her fragile hand, and my thumb slides back and forth along her soft skin.

  “I know you do,” she confesses, and her blue eyes turn cloudy. It’s that same blanket of sadness that’s usually there, wrapped around her and holding her tight. I want to ask her what keeps her tra
pped here in the sadness. I don’t because she’s been through too much, and she needs to rest.

  “I’m thinking no more bull riding for you,” I say, feeling protective of her.

  She huffs. “Now you really sound like my old man. I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” she says playfully, and I move in closer to show her I’m listening. “I’m not the kind of woman to take orders from a man.”

  I snicker. “I knew that the first day I opened my eyes and saw you.”

  “I’ve been hitting the rodeos long enough. It was the thrill I was after. I hated the way I felt inside,” she says, and again she’s being vague, but I know better than to push. “I’ve got to make some changes with my life. I see that now.” Her words resonate more than she knows.

  “I feel the same way. If you hadn’t found me in my car. I could have died. Going through something scary like that has a way of opening your eyes to things, doesn’t it?” I smile sadly.

  “It sure does.” I give her hand a soft squeeze and lean forward to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

  “I want you to stay,” she says, and I know it’s hard for her to admit.

  “I want to stay. I think we need to take the time to get to know each other. We’ve slept in the same bed since the first night we met. I’m going to miss you, but for once in my life I want to do things the right way.” I smile to reassure her. Her eyes flutter a little, and I can see that she’s growing tired. “I’m honored you’re giving me the chance to get to know you. That means no other men,” I say, and I can’t help the authoritative tone my voice takes because the thought of Sam fucking anyone but me drives me mad.

  “There you go again, telling me what to do.” She smiles playfully, even though it’s weak.

  I cock my brow, giving her a serious look.

  “I’m playing with you. There won’t be anyone but you, old man.” She smiles and bats her lashes. The anxiety in my chest eases.

  I groan. “Ground rules: you have to stop calling me City and old man.”

  She giggles at my request and gives me a devious look. Even in that hospital bed with her hair muffled and machines hooked up to her, she looks sexy. “You sure aren’t old, Al. You’re strong and virile,” she says, and my nostrils flare as heat springs through my body. I practically have to remind myself that she’s fragile, and I can’t maul her like a beast.

  “Damn straight.” I nod my head in agreement. “It’s good to hear your laugh.” We sit quietly and look at each other. A few beats pass. “I moved my stuff over to the cabin with Izzy.” Sam’s face pales at my words. “I’m sticking around. I’m not leaving.”

  “Good.”

  Her eyes flutter closed, and her breathing evens out. I sit back in the chair and watch her sleep, and I’m amazed how she’s come to mean so much to me in such a short time.

  Chapter-Thirty Five

  Al

  Past

  It was Friday night there was a school formal for the boys and girls before we broke for Christmas. I decided not to go. The pain of not seeing Brie kept me in my quiet dorm room. I hadn’t heard from her in days. A light knock on my dorm room door pulled me from staring blankly out the window.

  I stood expecting one of the guys only it was Brie. Her blond hair had soft ringlets on the edges and she wore an off white dress that made her look like an angel. I walked away from the door and fell back on my bed. I couldn’t look her in the eye, and she walked in and took a seat on my desk chair, swiveling to face me.

  “I’m not here to say I’m sorry. I know it won’t cut it,” she began. “I don’t know if you pay attention to what goes on in Hollywood, but a story about my dad went viral on the internet this week.” I watch her throat bob.

  “I don’t follow Hollywood news,” I clip.

  “My father had a secret family. He has two children with another woman. Since the story broke, we found out he’s been living with them. His oldest daughter is sixteen. That means she was born when I was two.”

  I shot up to a seated position, my legs swinging off the bed. My instinct was to hug her close. “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”

  She nodded. “You had to see the pictures. They were this picture perfect family. My dad is smiling and hugging them. I don’t have any pictures with my dad. He’s never given me that smile. That warmth.” Her arms curled around her small frame and she shivered.

  “I know how that feels.” My gaze cut to hers. “My father has never looked at me like he looks at Derek. I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’ve done to him or not done. What I do know is that I want to be nothing like him.” I paused because she started to cry, and I stood up and wrapped my arms around her, hushing her cries away. Despite everything, I couldn’t help myself. “We promised to never be like them,” I whispered.

  Her soft cries intensified. “I don’t know what’s happening. I’m sad and withdrawn. I feel numb most days. I know we promised to never do drugs, but I was curious. They make me feel good,” she said, and I pulled her into my lap, her small frame curling into me.

  “You promised after you did ecstasy that night you wouldn’t touch anymore. We are almost done the year. We can go home and head to college together. Tell our parents to fuck off or whatever. We’re adults.”

  She laughed despite her tears. “I’m so sorry for hurting you.” She smiled sadly. “I mean with Catrina. I don’t know what I was thinking or not thinking. It was stupid to do the coke. I know it was. I’d pushed so many guys away, wanting to stay loyal to you, but my head wasn’t right the other night. I can’t explain it.”

  I wanted to tell her she was high off her ass but swallowed my words.

  “What now, Brie? I’m worried about you. You look too thin. Maybe you should talk to the school counsellor and get some help,” I suggested.

  “I know I’ve lost weight. I just don’t have an appetite. I can’t eat. Besides the food here isn’t all that great,” she giggled softly.

  “It really isn’t.”

  “Mom is coming to get me next week. I think she’s taking me to France over Christmas.” She frowned.

  “That sounds pretty cool,” I said only because I hated to see her frown.

  “Will you let me kiss you?” she asked. “I know I messed up, but when I kiss you it feels like home. You are the only home I have. My mom takes me traveling. This place is a freak zone. I don’t have a real home.”

  “Shit, Brie.” I kissed her so hard my chest ached. I wanted to take her pain. “We’re finishing up this spring and you’re coming with me. Your parents can’t tell you what to do once you turn eighteen. We will be together. We’ll make a home. I’ll take care of you,” I held her close.

  She placed her head on my chest, and I held her as tight as I could. “That sounds perfect.”

  My Brie, my sunshine was broken, but I was going to make everything okay. I was going to give her the life she deserved.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Sam

  It’s evening and The Voice is on. I sit in front of the television and sing along with one of the contestants. I don’t notice Al standing off in the kitchen, watching me. When the song ends, he walks up to me. He looks worn out from a long day. I’m all too familiar with those. I’ve been home a full week. Mack, Autumn and Ethan left for New York the same day.

  “You have an amazing voice.” He takes a seat beside me on the couch. He isn’t self-conscious about smelling like shit anymore.

  “Thank you.” I lift the blanket over my legs so it covers my body.

  “Did you have professional singing lessons as a child or something?” he inquires some more. I shake my head. “You should be on that show,” he says, lifting my legs and placing them on his lap. Another contestant sings a song. Al waits, looking at me expectantly. “Aren’t you going to sing that one too?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Did I miss something? Did the cat get your tongue?” He snickers. “That night after Moe’s … you know the night I wanted to rip
Blake’s head off?” he starts, and at the mention of Blake’s name, my body tenses. I don’t know where he’s going with this. “I stood outside your room and listened to you sing,” he admits. I can’t explain why, but I don’t sing in front of people. It feels like Al broke into one of my most intimate moments by telling me he was listening in, kind of like now. His features soften, and he rubs my feet a little, massaging in circles.

  “Mmm, that feels nice,” I moan. He leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, and sparks shoot down to my belly. Doctor’s orders are no sex or anything that will cause exertion. Regardless, Al is hell-bent on taking things slow.

  “Don’t moan like that. I was serious about the no sex policy,” he warns, his lips warm against mine.

  I giggle. “I’m pretty sure I could break you,” I tease.

  “Nothing will make me break the no sex policy,” he says, placing soft kisses along both my cheeks and moving to my lids. He makes me feel cared for; he brings me meals and keeps me company, and he’s doing my job. I’ve never had a man treat me this way before. I didn’t know men behaved this way. My papa sure never cared for my mom this way, not even when she was sick.

  “How ’bout I suck you off,” I offer, knowing most men will not say no to a blow job.

  He groans. “Don’t go saying stuff like that. Now I’m hard as a rock.”

  “I can suck you off. It’s exerting for you, not me.” I lick my lips as I say the words.

  His head falls back, and then he raises it. “What did I get myself into?” he asks himself.

  “Come on.” I cock a brow, giving him the most seductive look I can muster.

  He groans again, only this time frustration seems to be at the root. “If you aren’t getting off, neither am I,” he says. “Now don’t change the subject. I want to learn more about you. Tell me about the singing.”