What could have happened to cause him to leave it all behind?
Maybe it wasn’t all over yet. Maybe they met each other for a reason.
“Is John going to be okay?” Ruth looked at Abby.
“I’m not sure, Ruth. I hope so. Andrew did everything he could.”
“What do you think happened out there?”
“John’s arm was badly injured. It has to be some type of animal bite or attack.” Abby winced and shook her head as she thought about what John must have gone through. “His forearm is broken in multiple spots. He’s lucky Andrew could help minimize the damage.”
“Yeah. Andrew was amazing, the way he took control and got us all helping him and working together. He knew exactly what to do. He’s on the quiet side, but he’s a kind man. You’re really lucky, Abby. You’re both lucky.”
Abby nodded but didn’t answer.
She was still wondering about Andrew’s past when Barb returned to the room. “How is Trina?”
“Not great.” Barb plopped herself down into the nearest armchair. “I gave her a drink of water, and helped her get to bed. She could barely talk, you know? She cried a lot before she fell asleep.”
“Well it’s good that she’s resting.”
“So what happened out there?” Barb asked.
“We still don’t know. Maybe Rob does.”
“Right. So where is he?”
Abby noticed Ruth’s tense reaction to Barb’s question. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. “He’s looking out for the air ambulance. He’s in the kitchen or dining room.”
“Ruth, I can hold those pillows steady, if you need a break.” Barb’s offer was met with widened eyes. Both Abby and Ruth were surprised.
“Really? Okay sure. Thank you, Barb. I’ll go check on Rob.” The two carefully traded places, and Ruth left.
“That was really nice of you, Barb,” Abby said.
“It was nothing. She looked tired, and a little scared of John’s injury, to be honest.”
“Yes. I think she has a problem with the sight of blood.”
“If that’s the case, she did really well.”
Abby was taken aback by Barb’s apparent behavioral turnaround. She was calm, thoughtful and gracious. She hoped it would last.
“You were great too, Barb. The way you helped Trina, it was exactly what she needed. I think we were a good team.”
“Yeah.”
Barb looked down at John, intently studying his face. “Do you think he’ll be all right?”
“What I can say is Andrew did everything he could with the tools he had here. John’s breathing is stable. I don’t see fresh blood coming through these bandages, so the bleeding has slowed considerably. All we can do now is wait and hope.”
“True, I guess. Is it one of those helicopter paramedics coming for John?”
“I think so.”
“Hmmm. I wonder if they have room for us?”
“It’s hard to tell. It sounded like a private service, so I’m not sure what kind of capacity it has. Remember, my car is still at the side of the road out there. I can’t leave it and fly out. If there’s room, some of you can, but you’d have to figure out transportation back to San Francisco. From what my dad said, the roads are still closed anyway.”
“Right.” Barb looked pensively at the window, then looked over at Abby. “What about you, Abby? How are you feeling?”
“Me? Oh, I’m fine.”
Finally, Barb turned quiet for a few minutes. It gave Abby the time to think. Except the only thought swirling around her mind was whether Andrew was going to send them all away with John in the chopper.
Chapter Two
ANDREW looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He didn’t see his face. He couldn’t. What he saw was his fear. He saw the way his face looked two years ago, in the midst of the rubble, twisted metal, and broken bones from that tragic night on that icy overpass. He saw Emma’s face. He saw the other driver slumped over the wheel of the car that hit his own, blood dripping from his head. It was too much blood.
For some reason, that driver’s front airbag did not deploy. And although the man was wearing a seatbelt, his head had slammed violently into the steering wheel. Andrew saw the despair on his own face, distorted in the reflection of that driver’s car window. Despite his desperate efforts to pull him from the vehicle, he was not able to save them. That was the problem—he tried to save them both, and he couldn’t save either.
He forced himself back to the present. That time two years ago was still too much to bear. He washed the blood off his arms, barely able to slow his racing heartbeat, or to calm his shaking hands, or to ignore the slick cold sweat creeping up his back and neck. Everything he had just done to help John was a crystal clear reminder of what had happened that night.
He wondered what he had done to cross the Gods. It couldn’t be coincidence. Only punishment from above could set out the past hour’s sequence of events, and make Andrew the only person for miles in any direction capable of dealing with the emergency.
“Fuck,” he heard the word escape his lips in a growl as he gripped on to the counter. Waves of anguish flowed over him. Misfortune had followed him all the way from Manhattan. It had tricked him into thinking things were beginning to turn around. With these young people’s unexpected visit, it had even added an amazing woman to the mix. He had finally found a sliver of hope begin to rise from the ashes of his mind.
Now this? Haven’t I been through enough?
Unresolved feelings, disturbing images, misplaced energy, and unrelenting questions surged through Andrew’s mind and body. He could probably double over and cry just as easily as he could curse and punch in a wall, but he didn’t do either. He had company. He had to keep it together until they left. He had to be strong for himself and for them.
He had to try, for Abby.
It was bad enough she had seen the tear fall down his face when she touched his mark. That was the most honest moment he had shared with anyone since Emma died. He was also positive Abby had just seen him have a flashback. It was the protruding radius on John’s arm that triggered it. The bone stuck out at almost exactly the same angle as his arm had been after the accident. He was mesmerized by John’s limb, just as he had looked down in disbelief at his own, two years ago.
When it had happened back then, it felt like his mind had left his body. He had been looking down at his broken arm as though it belonged to someone else. He had watched the blood pooling around the bone that jutted out precariously from where it had broken flesh and skin. There was no concept of time as he had looked down at it. It felt like time had slowed down. It was the female paramedic who had been first to arrive on scene that had to forcefully drag Andrew out of his haze to perform first aid on the arm, or Andrew would have bled out that night. He had passed out, and when he woke up at the hospital, no one knew what female paramedic he was talking about. Now he knew it must have been Theriona.
At some point before she had shown up, Andrew had frozen up. He did not help himself, his wife or the other driver. It had only lasted for a few seconds, but to him, those seconds could have saved a life.
I’m a doctor.
How could I have frozen up like that?
I was sworn to preserve life, and I failed.
I was on scene, and I was powerless.
There were many nights since then, where Andrew had been enraged by his state of shock. He had cursed that female paramedic and swore at the gods for keeping him alive, instead of attending to everyone else needing help on the scene. For this new disaster to land on his doorstep didn’t just add insult to injury; it was damned near unbearable.
It was only sheer will that kept him from calling his other chopper service now. The one that would take them all back to Sparks so they could be out of the elements, out of his cabin, and out of his life. It was sheer will, and Abby. She had everything to do with it.
Fuck!
To have an event simultaneously b
ring new pain at the same time as it probably brought the best thing in his life since Emma passed. If there was a god, he or she was cruel.
Would it even be so bad to send them all packing?
He could have them home that same night, Abby’s insurance company would arrange a tow and a replacement vehicle, and their families could take care of the rest. If Abby was remotely interested in getting to know him better, she could stay back. She could stay as long as she wanted, or she could come see him when her schedule freed up. Heck, he could probably go see her, eventually. So what was it about letting these kids take responsibility for themselves that made Andrew feel he was shirking?
He knew the answer to that. He could not ignore people’s needs. He wasn’t that kind of man. This was exactly why he had chosen to live as the billionaire hermit of Lake Tahoe. He cared too much where people were concerned. He would probably put animals before his own needs too, if it came down to it. His distance from society was best for everyone. It was best for the sliver of peace he would get in every sunset. Then, like the monkey wrench of fate, along came Abby.
Andrew splashed water on his face and dried it with a towel. He needed to get back out there. Every cell in his body wanted to stay locked in his bedroom. The worst was over, hopefully, where John was concerned. There wasn’t anything more he could do for him, other than to keep him stable. If things deteriorated out in the living room, someone would definitely come knocking on his door to get him.
For all of the rationalizing, he knew there was more to it. Those kids needed him. They were terrified for John, just as they were during the blizzard. He saw it in all their eyes, including Abby’s. Right now she was putting up a good front for them, he was sure of it. Out of the group, she knew how bad John’s injuries were, yet she was so calm, and so helpful.
He imagined she needed a break from it, the way he had just been able to pull away. Or maybe she needed him. He felt a pang of desire in his chest. He had to be with her. He would go be there for them. First, he needed to change out of this blood-stained shirt.
He walked over to the closet to find a fresh shirt, and noticed the open drawer where Rob would have found the first aid kit. He reached down to close the drawer, and that’s when he froze again. It was a framed picture of him and Emma, shortly after they were married. They had been so happy. It was a photo he could not look at anymore, but he also could not get rid of it.
For the first few months while he stayed out at Lake Tahoe, he kept it in the office drawer. He had to move it eventually. He would stare at it for hours, choking back tears until he couldn’t hold it in any more. It was not healthy to keep reliving the nightmare every time he looked at the photo. There were a lot of things that were not healthy about his mind.
In the months after it happened, his father had rounded up the other medical staff who had witnessed what happened, as well as an NYPD Chief and a top CIA official. He paid them off generously to ensure they forgot what they had seen in that room, and the matter was swiftly swept under the rug.
Andrew’s doctor colleagues who had not witnessed what happened would try to contact him after the accident, frequently suggesting he should go to a grief therapist because of his loss. He eventually did see one, however the visits did not last. He may have seen her five or six times, but effectively he might as well have never gone. At every visit, he would sit in the chair, and she would listen, but he would not say a word.
He was too numb to share. It was too fresh. He had still not gotten over the unexplained healing of his arm, and still did not realize what he was back then. How could anyone expect the wounds in his mind to recover from such a horrific loss? There was also still so much legal and media turmoil swirling around him. Therapy and emotional healing were the last things on his mind.
He took the photo out and looked around for a place to put it. He went to the night stand closer to the window and put it in a drawer with the image facing down. He would have to find somewhere else to keep it. He doubted he would ever come to terms with the loss of Emma.
Maybe Abby can help me find my way back.
He was tired of carrying around so much grief. It was more than anyone should have to bear. That’s what his dad would say, that Andrew shouldn’t have to deal with it alone. Could Abby even fathom his loss? He hoped so, yet was hesitant to put the pain of this tragedy on anyone else’s shoulders—least of all Abby.
He scoffed at the thought after a few moments. How could he be so naïve to think Abby would even want him? He was a broken man, a bear shifter no less, with a dark past and a hollowed out heart. She would probably run for the hills the first chance she got, after learning about Emma, the accident, and his nightmares, let alone the brutal truth of the aftermath. He needed to face facts. No sane, self-respecting woman would want to have anything to do with him, if she knew everything. It was useless.
He sat on the opposite edge of the bed, let out a sigh and placed his head in his hands.
Pull it together, Drew.
Those kids need you out there.
Abby needs you.
Andrew stood up and ran his hand through his hair, doing what he could to regain his composure. He looked down at his outstretched hands. They were calm again. That was progress. He went back to the closet, found a shirt, and changed. As he left his room, he heard the hum of the helicopter approaching.
Chapter Three
ABBY was not sure what it all meant. Was the chopper there to get John to the nearest trauma center? Or was it coming for everyone in her group? Perhaps it was Andrew’s way to quickly get back to his solitude. To have six strangers not only occupy his house, but also be the source of so much extra minding—not to mention John’s accident—made her almost sorry they had ever taken that route through the mountains.
All they had caused Andrew was grief. With the help of that whistle, they forced him from his house, and made him wade through the blizzard of the year to save their sorry asses. They ate his food, and used up all his new plaid sleepwear. They slept in his luxurious beds, and created piles and piles of dishes and laundry.
They took advantage of his generosity by drinking his wine, getting hammered and flirting in his hot tub. They caused him to have to fire a warning shot in the air to chase away Wile E. Coyote, because of all the ruckus they caused in the hot tub. Tonight, two of them had pulled him from her arms to be rescued yet again, because they had to have their phone chargers. To add insult to injury, they made him perform a forearm reduction with no surgical equipment, in the middle of his living room, on one of the finest Persian rugs Abby had ever seen.
To top it all off, she had kissed him, slept with him, and wanted him all over again. And again.
She remained in her kneeling position, arm outstretched on John’s neck to keep track of his pulse every few minutes. Ruth was back. She sat on the other side of John, still holding the pillows secure. She had traded places with Barb again, who went up to check on Trina.
“Abby. Do you think they’ll let us in on what happened outside?” Ruth asked.
“I’m sure they will eventually. Didn’t you ask Rob?”
“No, he looked really shaken up.”
“Stabilizing John is still the bigger priority. It’s nice that we all chipped in to help. Even Barb.”
“That was a real surprise,” Ruth agreed. “Maybe there’s hope for the bitch.”
Abby looked over at Ruth, eyes widened. It was a surprise that anyone could get a rise out of Ruth to the point of name calling.
“Was she that mean to you?” Abby asked.
“There are some women who love makeup,” Ruth started. “Some who are into sports, and others who read until their eyes are as sore as burnt holes in a blanket. Then, there are women like Barb, who take unrepentant pleasure in sucking the joy out of everyone else’s life. Barb may have been nice for a moment tonight, but that’s what she is, a soul-sucking vampire bitch. Except that’s actually an insult to a vampire. Because they have to feed on blood.
It’s not a choice. They have to feed, or they shrivel up like prunes and go into centuries-long comas. Barb has a choice. She’s worse than a soul-sucking vampire bitch.”
Abby didn’t know how to respond to Ruth’s tirade. “Wow. This is all coming out of left field. What did she do to you?”
“Well, in addition to kicking off spin the bottle last night in the hot tub, she kissed Rob, and practically gave him a lap dance in front of me. She also took pleasure in walking into Rob’s room while we were talking, with only her bra and panties on.”
This was all news to Abby.
“I thought she didn’t like Rob?”
“Yes. She doesn’t, but she knows that I do, so he started being nice to me, she went off the deep end. It’s okay, though. She got the rejection of her sorry-ass life when Andrew practically gave her walking papers the first night we were here. So where else is she going to look for attention?”
Clearly, a lot was happening around Abby that she had either missed because of her sprained ankle, or chosen to ignore while she herself was swooning after Andrew.
“Hold on. Back up a minute,” Abby stopped her. “What walking papers?”
“Apparently she tried to jump Andrew’s bones the first night in the living room. He told her to go fuck herself—nicely of course—and told Rob to keep the soul-sucking vampire bitch out of his hair, or we’d all have to stay in the guest house.”
Abby shook her head. She had missed all the goings-on of the house while she had been reading Foundations with her thumb up her ass. She would have asked Ruth for more details, but heard someone walking down the hallway to them. It was Andrew.
“The medics are here,” he said softly, and leaned over to look at John. “How’s he doing?”
“Stable, I think,” Abby answered. “His pulse is in the normal range, and his bandages are free of blood. He’s still unconscious, but it’s probably from the shock.”
“Good,” he said with a nod. “His body is shielding him from some of the pain too.”
“Yes. So who is the chopper here for? Just for John?”
Cabin Bear Heat Box Set: A Paranormal Fantasy Bear Shifter Romance (A Bear Shifter Romance Retelling of the Billionaire Redemption Series Book 2) Page 15
