The Cousins Series Boxed Set

by Lisa Lang Blakeney

  "Roman."

  I grimaced like a wounded animal but managed to respond.

  "Why?"

  "She's been in a car accident, son. That's all I know."

  I had been having a bad feeling throughout the day. It had been steadily raining and later that night the storm grew even worse as the skies cracked opened wide with thunder and lightning. The roads were a complete mess, and it had been a shitty night for flying or driving. That's why I had flown in the day before from Miami. To avoid the storm. Elizabeth should never have been out in that weather.

  I should have listened to my gut and checked on her that morning when I woke up, maybe even the night I touched down, but I figured I was just anxious because I was missing the shit out of her, not because anything ominous was going to happen.

  The accident happened on a Thursday, a week away from Thanksgiving, and our date night. Under normal circumstances we would have been together all day. I should have been balls deep inside of her, all fucking night, and making her come until Friday morning. Unfortunately a series of stupid misunderstandings left us barely on speaking terms. I hadn't even checked in to tell her I was back in town yet. I will regret that for the rest of my life.

  I've been acting like a fucking imbecile for weeks now. I was trying to basically mark my territory that day when Blake was over the house working with Elizabeth. I might as well have peed around the perimeter of her house. The way I was feeling, if I could have, I would have bent her over her desk, and fucked her hard while keeping the door wide open, so he could watch every stroke. So he would know without a doubt that he had absolutely no chance with her. That she was mine.

  But my plan backfired.

  I didn't expect her to put up such resistance, and when she did, it pissed me more the fuck off than I thought it would. It made me question us. Doubt myself. And I got angry. It was my anger that muddled everything. I couldn't see things clearly.

  I called myself teaching her a lesson by putting her on an extended cooling out period. Especially after she was the one who asked for the space. But now I know better. I was taking our time together for granted. Assuming I'd have plenty more days, weeks, and years with her. Which was stupid on my part, because I know better than anyone that tomorrow isn't promised. Half the guys that I grew up with are either dead, in jail, or on drugs, and they're barely even thirty.

  In a nutshell, I fucked up on several fronts.

  I should have never allowed Ethan or his piece of shit dealer (Shrek) to continue breathing when I first learned about their existence. Then none of this would have ever happened. This shit is on me, and I swear to hell I'm going to fix it.

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  I don't actually remember getting in my Rover and driving to the hospital that day. I don't remember if I tuned the radio to my favorite satellite station, or if I ever put on my seatbelt. I don't remember handing the valet my keys at the emergency entrance or if I had my wallet on me. What I do remember is this ...

  Me sprinting through the emergency entrance.

  The old man sitting in the waiting area with his head hung low, staring at his cell phone.

  Seeing Juliette with tears rolling down her face.

  Me thinking that Duchess was dead.

  My heart feeling like it was being ripped completely out of my chest.

  "Where is she!" I demanded to know.

  More frightened than I've ever been in my life. Wanting to hear the answer, but at the same time not really wanting to know.

  "She's in surgery," Juliette said then she ran to me and wrapped her lithe arms around my neck crying softly. "She'll be in there at least forty-five minutes. That's what the doctor said."

  She's alive.

  That was all that I cared about, and is what I gratefully asked with a whisper next to Juliette's ear. "She's alive?"

  She nodded in response.

  "Yes, sweetie. She's alive."

  Once I knew that Elizabeth was breathing, I kicked into autopilot. I pulled out my phone and sent a group text to Cutter, Camden and Jade.

  Me: Elizabeth in accident. Penn Hospital.

  Camden: Be there in 15.

  Cutter: Hold tight, brother.

  Jade: Coming now.

  "Who have you called?" I asked Joseph.

  "Her parents. The friend."

  "Sloan." Juliette corrected him.

  "We didn't know who to call for the guy," Joseph said. "But the doctor said he's going to be fine. Just a broken arm and a few contusions."

  "What. Guy," I asked stone faced.

  Juliette looked at me cautiously, then placed her palm on the center of my chest, as she spoke to me like an emotionally unbalanced first grader.

  "The young man who works for her, Roman. I think his name is Blake?"

  "He was in the car?"

  "He was driving."

  A sharp pain shot me in the head above my eye.

  "Where were they coming from?" My voice rose a little louder.

  "Roman," Joseph warned.

  "What!" I barked. Not needing his judgmental shit today of all days. "I need to know everything that happened. She's my responsibility."

  "She's not your responsibility." The old man interjected yet again. "She's family yes, but she's not your responsibility. She's got parents that will be here in the next few hours to remind you of that very thing."

  "Joseph, now is not the time," Juliette said as she rushed over to his side.

  "She's right, old man, now is not the time."

  I stomped down those halls in emergency until I found someone who could give me the answers I was looking for. It didn't take long. A middle-aged nurse who told me that I reminded her of her junior prom date told me everything that she could without getting herself fired as a result. Details on Elizabeth's injuries, her condition when they brought her in, what they were trying to fix in surgery, and where I could find that motherfucker Blake. Because I sure as hell wanted to have a conversation with him, and I didn't care if he was in a coma. I'd wake his ass the hell up real quick.

  "Are you family, sir?" the doctor asked when I whipped back the curtain to emergency bed number four. He was lifting Blake's eyelids and checking his pupils with a silver pen flashlight.

  "Only family members are allowed back here," he said dismissively.

  "It's cool," Blake responded when he noticed that it was me. Then he asked me about Elizabeth. It was the wrong way to start a conversation with me.

  "How is she?" He had the nerve to ask. "They won't tell me much."

  "You mean you want to know just how close you came to getting her killed?"

  The doctor's hand froze in midair. He stopped what he was doing and finally turned his head around. He took a long look at me. Scanning his eyes up and down. Stopping at my scar.

  Then said to Blake, "Do you still want this gentleman back here, Mr. Harrison?"

  "I said it's fine."

  The tone of Blake's response sounded as if he was offended that the doctor even posed the question. As if he was embarrassed that the doctor assumed he couldn't hold his own against me. Which he can't. That's not even up for debate.

  "Can I see her?" Was his response to me.

  "Can you see her? I can't believe you asked me that. Hell the fuck no!"

  "She's probably worried about me."

  "Trust me, she isn't," I seethed.

  After my last comment, the prick shifted around on his bed and tried to sit straight up. He grabbed the side of his stomach and winced in pain. Probably just a bruised rib. I've had them plenty of times before. Nothing that warranted the extensive exam he seemed to be getting.

  In fact the obvious minor injuries he sustained, made me even angrier, because while he stepped away from the accident pretty much scot-free, Elizabeth was in surgery getting titanium pins put through her entire right leg.

  The image of her getting operated on made me think of how scared she must have been after the accident. How much pain she must have been in. It killed me tha
t I wasn't there to help her. I wondered if she called out for me? If she panicked. If she cried.

  I should have been there.

  "It was an accident. I swerved and we spun out."

  "Why were you even together?"

  "I was just trying to keep her safe."

  "Safe? That's my full time job not yours."

  "Well I heard you were on vacation in Miami, Bro. So today it was my job."

  This motherfucker.

  "Well you didn't do a good fucking job of keeping her safe did you, smart ass. I want a lot less sarcasm from you and more facts. What were you doing with Elizabeth today? I want to know everything that happened or I swear to God, I will break your other fucking arm."

  "Listen sir," Dr. McPain In My Ass interrupted. "I'm going to need to call security if you keep threatening my patient. I understand that you're upset about your girlfriend, but this type of language and behavior is not tolerated in the hospital. You need to leave."

  The doctor was looking and talking to me the same way the prick was. As if their non-tatted, pristine skin somehow made them better than me. As if the scar on my face was the mark of a degenerate and not a warrior. I was ten seconds away from taking that pen light of his and shoving it down his throat.

  "I suggest you finish wrapping his arm and whatever else it is they overpay you to do and mind your own business," I said to the doctor in the calmest voice I could muster considering the circumstances.

  "Listen you–" The doctor started in on me, but I tuned him out, once the prick interrupted.

  "You want answers? Here they are. Elizabeth went to meet some ex-boyfriend of hers. The guy asked for the meet. She was nervous about it and didn't want to go alone. She asked ME to go with her. Days ago. I told her she should tell you about it, but she decided against that. Are those the answers you're looking for, asshole?"

  "Her ex," I said with a deadly calm. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

  "You think you're boyfriend of the year don't you? Well think again. You don't even know what's going on in her life. Did you know that she's afraid of you? She told me those exact words, and now that I've seen you in full action, I understand why. Do you threaten her in the same way that you've been threatening me in here? Do you talk to her like she's a piece of shit? Do you like the way she has to shrink in order to make you look and feel larger than life? No wonder she didn't want to tell you shit."

  The words that were flying out of the guy's mouth were laced with nothing but pure disgust. He despises me, and I think it's because he sees me in the same way that I saw that skater kid and his girlfriend in the park. Like I'm detrimental to Elizabeth's health, or that I'm some sort of bad habit that she needs to break. He actually thinks he's doing her a favor by getting in between us. I decided right then that I'd take great pleasure in proving him wrong.

  "When we arrived to the meet the guy, Beth spotted him sitting with someone, and one look at the dude he was with, and I knew something was very wrong. He looked like trouble, and she was clearly petrified of him. She said we needed to turn around and go before they saw us. So we hightailed it out of there, but they spotted us as we were leaving, and then they jumped in their car and started following us. Then–"

  "Shut up." I threw my hand up to stop him from talking. "Did Elizabeth call the other guy Shrek?"

  "Yeah."

  I had to shut my eyes in a moment of deep regret. Over and over in my mind, I asked myself, how could I have let this happen? What universe did I live in that this prick had now become her knight in shining armor? Her rock to lean on?

  "And she specifically asked YOU to go with her?"

  "That's what I said isn't it."

  I knew I fucked up big time, but I didn't believe him. Not in the way that he was trying to spin it. Elizabeth would never do that.

  "I know that's what you said, but I also know that men lie. Especially pricks like you. Acting like they're one thing, when they're clearly another. Pretending to be her buddy and pal, the model employee, when you clearly have a fucking agenda."

  "There's no secret to me. No agenda. What you see is what you get. She asked me to go, because she was going back and forth between deciding on whether to meet this guy or not. It was weighing heavily on her mind. I hated to see her struggling like that. So I helped her make the decision she needed to make. I gave her options. She chose door number one."

  Then the asshole grinned at me. A smug, self-satisfying grin. I was so ready to get out of there. I knew that if I stayed too much longer, I was definitely going to bash this guy's head in. He was purposely trying to bait me. If I wasn't absolutely sure about his intentions before, I was made crystal clear about them then.

  He wanted my girl.

  Dr. McPain In The Ass was almost finished with the last of the exam when I decided that I needed to get out of there before I did something I'd regret; but Blake the prick just had to go and say something the fuck else.

  "I told her I'd support her regardless of how she wanted to handle things, because that's what a good man does for a woman. Supports her decisions. What he doesn't do is make her question herself so much, that she doesn't feel safe enough to share them."

  "Stop bullshitting me. Do you want Elizabeth?"

  "I already have her, Bro."

  That was it. I couldn't digest any more of this douchebag's shit any longer. The sea of fury that was bubbling inside my chest was growing at a rapidly fast pace, and I couldn't stop it. I was blind with rage, by his words, by his pompous attitude, and by the fact that some of the shit he was saying hit home.

  And I hated him for it.

  All of a sudden I had the tremendous urge to start breaking some shit up. To exert some energy that caused someone pain. So that's what I did.

  Starting with Blake.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  ELIZABETH

  There must be a million rooms in Penn's hospital, because now I've woken up in yet another one. A nicer one. They seem to always move me when I'm asleep. You can tell that the hospital hired a professional interior decorator for these particular rooms, and that he or she tried really hard to make it resemble as close to a person's bedroom as possible.

  It's a clean, cozy, private single room. The walls are painted the tan color of chocolate chip cookie batter. I'm covered in a bedspread that has a beautiful tan, brown and red Aztec print. Decorative sconces are affixed on the wall above my bed. Mass produced, art work hangs on the walls. It's quite tasteful. All my flowers from the room before are here too as well as a few fresh arrangements. I obviously don't have my contacts in, so I can barely read the fine print on the note cards stuck in them. I think one is from my Aunt Joan. Wow, I haven't talked to her since Joseph's party at the steakhouse.

  My room reminds me of one of the hotel rooms my parents and I stayed at on one of our summer vacations at the shore. The nicer one. I know a little bit about hospitals. Enough to know that there's no way that I can afford this room and neither can my parents. I wonder which Masterson man is responsible for my upgrade.

  As my eyes focus on my surroundings I start to recognize a familiar face, balled up in a chair, in the corner of my room. It's Sloan, and she's doing something I've never seen before. Something I didn't think I'd ever see. She's wiping tears from her eyes. Tears of sadness not hysterics.

  "Sloan," I croak out.

  It hurts like all hell to speak, but I'm excited as hell that I was able to at least get something out. Even if it's just one word. I almost feel like I've been living in a world where I am unable to communicate with the few humans I've seen over the last days, weeks, or however long I've been in here.

  Sloan jumps happily up out of the blue pleather armchair she was sitting in, walks over to the bed, and places her hand on my arm.

  "Don't talk, Bitsy. I'm so glad you're awake. I thought I was going to lose you for a minute there."

  Well damn, did I almost die? Oh my God, is the baby okay? I unconsciously place my hands across my belly. Re
alization hits me. There's a baby inside of me. I'm pregnant.

  Now that I think back, I realize that this is my fault. I ran out of birth control pills about a month ago and procrastinated picking up my new prescription. I missed about three or four pills, but then got back on schedule. It was stupid I know, but I've been taking the pill long enough now that I thought that the hormones were completely in my system. That a few days off wouldn't matter. Guess I was wrong.

  I don't know exactly how long I've been in this hospital, but all the medicine I've been on for the pain can't be good for the baby. Roman's baby. I wanted to ask the technician a million questions when they gave me my sonogram, but my throat is still so sore, so I couldn't ask much. I suppose there's no use in me asking anyway. What's done is done. I've been drinking like a fish, eating crap, and drugged up these last few weeks, but there's not much I can do about it now, but try to do better moving forward.

  There are so many things I want to ask Sloan, but there's no way I'll be able to comfortably get the words out. Not all of them anyway. So I just ask the important stuff using one word prompts, starting with Blake. He was in the car too, and I'm worried that his injuries were far more severe than my own. If I remember correctly, I had my seatbelt on and he didn't.

  "Blake," I say my second word to her.

  Sloan's eyes drop to the floor.

  "I'm not going to sugar coat this, babe. You've been through too much for me to do that. Blake ... is still in intensive care, but they expect him to be moved to a regular room really soon."

  I close my eyes in painful remorse. What have I done? If I've been in intensive care for days, but he's still in there, what on earth happened to him?

  "It wasn't the accident, Bitsy." Sloan assures me after reading my facial expression. "He only broke an arm and I think a rib from the accident. The crash only crushed and pinned your side of the car in. There wasn't as much damage on the driver's side. In fact, Blake's the one who was able to get out and get you some help. He was also here when you went into surgery."

  I open my eyes wider and look at Sloan with bewilderment. Hoping she can understand that I am confused as to why he's in intensive care if everything she told me is true.