Return : Stratham Knights Book 1

by NV Roez

  Bad news, Celeste hasn't woken up. But from what little information I could steal, her vitals all look good, so it's just a matter of time.

  Good news, they removed those damn restraints last night, deeming me not suicidal.

  No shit, assholes.

  "Hey, Evie. Is it okay if I come in?"

  I look up to see Coach Metson at my door, a bouquet of flowers in his hands. I nod my head and put my schoolwork to the side.

  "I just wanted to check in on you. The rumor mill is running rampant on campus, and I had to see you for myself," he says.

  "Thanks, Ryan, I'm doing okay."

  He gives me a cheeky smile, his blond hair falling in front of his eyes. His white t-shirt looks painted on, exposing his lean muscular arms and chiseled abs.

  "Wanna tell me how you ended up crushed underneath a tree?"

  "Not really. I just want to forget this whole thing happened. No one believes me anyway, so what's the point?" I sigh.

  "You wound me, Evie. I'd like to think we're somewhat friends. Or rather, I'd like to be your friend, and I'd believe you."

  The green in his eyes shine with sincerity, but I can't help feeling like it's forced.

  Maybe he hates hospitals too.

  "Long story short, someone ran me off the road on purpose. I couldn't see the guy, but I'm pretty sure he was trying to kill us."

  "Wow. That must have been pretty scary for you," he says, grabbing my hand into his soft, smooth ones. I politely try to pull away, but he holds on a little too firm.

  "It's okay, sweetheart, I believe you. It all makes sense now."

  "What makes sense now?" I pull my hand out, pretending to need my hand to help me sit up straighter in my bed.

  "I probably shouldn't be telling you." He breathes out slowly, like he's fighting himself on what to say next. "But I overheard Elijah talking to Caleb a few days ago, about dealing with a certain problem of the female persuasion and that everything would be handled in a few hours. He also said something about, and I quote, 'she won't be here much longer'. The next day, I found out you were in an accident and it just felt like too much of a coincidence." His words are soft and sincere, but his whole body is tense.

  "Are you telling me that you think Elijah set it up for me to get into an accident?"

  I'm dumbstruck at the thought. I don't know why it seems so far-fetched, it's not like he isn't capable. Something doesn't sit right, though. I know Elijah and I are not on the best of terms, but would he seriously try to have me killed? How the hell would he even know I'd be there?

  "I know I shouldn't speak against the students at Stratham, God forbid a Knight, but I do believe Elijah has it in for you. I've caught him a few times outside Emily Hall at night while you're sleeping, and I hear them talk about you when they don't think I'm listening."

  He goes to grab my hand again, but my hospital door opens before he gets the chance.

  "Hello, Ms. Hawton. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Monroe is awake and she's asking for you."

  My day nurse comes in with a blush on her cheeks. She looks between me and Coach Metson and the eye-fuck she gives him doesn't go unnoticed. I try—and fail—to not roll my eyes as I untangle my IV tube and get off my bed.

  "I can walk with her, if that's okay?" Ryan proceeds to grab my elbow to steady me.

  He holds onto me the entire walk, alternating between my elbow and my lower back, making an uncomfortable tingle shudder through me as this gorgeous man's fingers trail down my back. I'm only in panties and a flimsy hospital gown, and even though it's tied in the back, his hand keeps creeping lower and lower. Celeste's hospital door is only a few doors down, but it feels miles away, getting farther away each step I take.

  We finally make it to her room and step inside. As soon as we do, Celeste's eyes are wide brown saucers and her heart monitor spikes—like cardiac arrest levels—while she looks between Coach Metson and me.

  "Hey, Cele, it's just me. I didn't mean to scare you," I say, walking closer to her hospital bed, dragging the damn IV bag cart thing with me. I can see her hands fist at her sides and what little color she has drains from her face.

  "It's Evie, Cele," I repeat. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

  Ryan walks closer behind me and whispers in my ear, "I'll let you two talk. I'll come check on you later." He turns his attention to Celeste. "I'm glad to see that you're doing okay."

  There's a slow smile crawling on his face as he walks out of the room.

  Celeste's fists are still clutching her bedsheets as she watches him walk out of the room. "What was he doing here, Evie?"

  "He said he came to check up on me. Apparently, he wants to be my friend. Go figure." I say with a light smile. "But he's not important right now. What's more important is, how are you feeling?"

  She looks to the door one last time and visibly relaxes. "I'm okay, Evie. I'm just ready to get out of here."

  "I can't agree with you more there. This place sucks goat balls. I got a question for ya, Cele, do you remember the accident?"

  "It's all fuzzy, but I remember some asshole bumping us and then the truck flipping over, but that's about it."

  I let out a sigh of relief. At least I'm not completely crazy.

  A few days later, I'm finally given my discharge papers and can leave this godforsaken hospital with its shitty food and astringent smell. I hate hospitals. I need a greasy pizza, rum and Coke, and a freaking vacation from all the crazy.

  Eager is my middle name, so I decide to change out of my hospital garb at my bed. I'm in the middle of putting on an old Nirvana shirt when my door opens.

  Christ, I should have changed in the bathroom.

  "Oh, Ms. Hawton, I'm so sorry, I should have knocked." Dr. fucking Weaver is blatantly staring at my half naked body. And... he's still staring... He walks closer to me as I get dressed as fast as I can move.

  "You really have grown into a beautiful woman. It's no wonder they're having a hard time," he whispers, brushing my hair behind my ear.

  I immediately step back, looking at this man like he's lost his mind. "Can I help you with something?"

  "Oh, yes, Ms. Hawton," he says, shaking his head like he's trying to clear his head. "I came to pick up your schoolwork."

  "Seriously? I'm being released. I can take the work back myself." I eye him warily, trying to figure out if he's gone mental, but before I can even decide how to broach the puzzle of Dr. Weaver, my door opens for a second time.

  Does anyone knock anymore?

  "Evie, holy shit, are you okay?" Taylor comes barreling in, thoroughly ignoring the fact that he's not the only one in my hospital room.

  "Taylor! What the hell, asshole? I've been in here for days. Where the hell have you been?"

  "I know, I'm sorry. The day you guys were in the accident, I was pulled out of class for Knights business, and I just got back this morning. I didn't know you guys were in an accident until I got back to campus." He scans my body, looking for injuries. I internally roll my eyes.

  A little late.

  "Tell me, is Celeste okay? What the hell happened, Evelyn?"

  Whoa, he rarely calls me Evelyn. He’s really upset. He looks at me with a seriousness that's almost scary.

  Where'd the corny, dad-joke-telling clinger go?

  "Was it an accident or was this on purpose? What people are saying on campus… Just fucking tell me what happened.”

  "Taylor, for the love of God, calm down. We're both going to be okay, just got a little banged up after some douche tried to run us off the road."

  “Will you please trust me and let me go to the council now?"

  He had wanted to go to the council the Sunday my room was broken into, but I wouldn't let him. If he did, and the Knights really had something to do with it, what would the council do?

  Nothing.

  And you're afraid to find out.

  "Taylor, can we talk later?" I wave my hand around the room to show him he's not the only one here.

  "M
r. Byrant, I wasn't aware the Knights were back from their business trip. I thought you were all gone until after Spring Break," Dr. Weaver says with annoyance.

  Taylor looks at Dr. Weaver, eyebrows squishing together. "Is there something that you need, Weaver?", he says in a clipped tone.

  "I just came by to see how Ms. Hawton was doing and to pick up her schoolwork."

  "I wasn't aware you cared so much."

  "Nonsense, Mr. Bryant, as president of the university, it's my job to care about all my students."

  "Well, I've got it from here. I'll make sure she gets her work turned in," he says, effectively dismissing Dr. Weaver.

  Uhm... What's up with Taylor?

  After Dr. Weaver leaves, Taylor and I walk over to check on Celeste. She's stuck in this medical prison for another day, but will be out in time for our spring break trip.

  "You lucky bitch. I can't believe they won't let me out of here," she admonishes, "Thank God Taylor isn't shopping impaired so I know that I'll have something decent for our trip."

  "Yep, you're feeling better alright. Back to your natural pain in the ass self." I grin. "As soon as you find out when you can leave, call us so we can get you out of here."

  I gape at them both as Celeste gives Taylor detailed instructions on what she wants him to buy for our trip and he notes it all down on his smartphone. Once she's done, Taylor grabs my arm to walk me out of the hospital and head downtown for food, alcohol, and shopping.

  I'll enjoy two out of the three, so it's not that bad.

  25

  I've been free from Alcatraz for all of five seconds when Taylor starts his interrogation.

  "Can we talk about your accident now?" Taylor begs as we sit in our booth, on the back wall of The Brewery. At least he didn't start while we were still in his car.

  I don't really know what to say about the whole thing, and I don't want to talk about it, but the annoyed concern shining in Taylor's honey eyes tells me that I don't have much of a choice.

  Fine, Taylor.

  I give him the clinical, scientific account of the accident, mystery driver included, placing as little weight to the event as possible. I do not need to be coddled, and I'll cut him if he thinks that's going to happen. So I make light of the 'accident' as best as I can and order some food.

  He squints at me, looking unsure about how to take my unemotional account of the accident, and decides to move on to another topic.

  "What was Dr. Weaver doing at the hospital?"

  I shrug. "He was picking up my school work. I'm not sure why the president of Stratham U would care, but I'm sure it's because he doesn't want his precious school GPA to falter." I look up to see a perplexed look in Taylor's eyes. "What is it, Taylor?"

  "I don't know. But doesn't it seem weird that Weaver would do that?"

  I think about it for a beat. "Not any more weird than Ryan or Dr. Lewis showing up."

  "Wait, Metson went to see you at the hospital too?"

  "Yeah, he came to see me a few days ago to check up on me."

  "Since when have you guys been friends?"

  "I don't know. I mean, I see him from time to time, we run together sometimes and we did go to dinner once."

  I don't know why he thinks this is weird, but I don't call him out on it. Honestly, I'm done thinking for the day. I'm enjoying my greasy pizza and mozzarella sticks I ordered, so I let him go into his head while I eat in silence.

  I go to pick up my next slice of steamy cheese and it appears Taylor's done thinking and onto yet another topic.

  When will the inquisition end?

  "Hey, Evie, why were you and Celeste driving off campus, anyway? I thought you guys still had classes."

  And there it is. The topic I want to talk about even less than the accident.

  Sigh.

  "Long story short, I got into it with the Knights and I just wanted to get off campus." This, of course, peaks his interest even more. "It's not that big of a deal, Taylor. The bitch princess grates on my every last nerve and I couldn't keep my mouth shut. Caleb, Elijah, and Micah are grade A assholes. Sorry, I know they're your frat brothers."

  I shrug my shoulders and get back to my food. I really don't want to talk about them. It's bad enough that they all play recurring roles in my dreams—scratch that, I mean nightmares.

  Taylor checks his smartphone, his face laced in worry. "Uhm... okay, please don't get mad. I didn't know, and he asked..."

  I carefully put down my pizza, placing my forearms against the table, and give him my full attention. "You didn't know what? Who asked what?"

  But before he can answer, a tattooed hand touches his shoulder and I look up into Caribbean blue eyes.

  Oh, for fuck's sake.

  "Thanks for the invite, Bryant," Micah says, like being in my presence is completely normal.

  It's not.

  I grab the butter knife from our table, clenching it like a voodoo doll, wishing it could magically strangle him while I glare daggers into Taylor. He flinches, mouthing 'I'm sorry', and I know it's not his fault, but seriously... ugh.

  I mouth back 'traitor' and he looks genuinely remorseful, but I can't focus on him anymore. Micah's presence is making The Brewery feel small and the butter knife voodoo doll isn’t working.

  He moves around to the entrance of the booth Taylor and I occupy, carrying confidence in spades. "Slide over, Angel. I'm starving and we need to talk."

  "No." I refuse to look up at him and cross my arms.

  "Evie, please, come on. I'm not here to fight."

  Taylor sighs and reluctantly moves to get up, offering his side of the booth to Micah. He turns to me with a sad smile. "I'm going to head out and get the stuff Celeste asked me to buy. I can meet up with you guys when I'm done and take you back to campus."

  My eyes bug out of my face, and I emphatically shake my head, but it's useless. This was a planned ambush whether Taylor intended it or not. I push my plate away from me—I no longer have an appetite.

  The waitress comes over to cash out Taylor and take Micah's order. I order a Johnnie Walker black on the rocks, and when she walks away, I close my eyes.

  "How are you feeling, Angel?" Micah asks.

  I can hear the hesitancy in his cool, deep voice, reminding me of a cool breeze off the west coast.

  "Can you please stop calling me that?" I retort, huffing out a sharp breath.

  "Fine. How are you feeling, Evelyn?"

  I growl under my breath. "What do you want, Micah?"

  He lets out a long, deep sigh. "I just want to talk. Can we be civil for a minute?"

  "No."

  "Now you're just being a brat."

  "No, Micah, I'm not. Do your brothers know you're here right now?” I sneer.

  He leans forward, interlacing his fingers on the table. "No, they don't. They aren't my keepers, Ange—Evelyn."

  I roll my eyes and look everywhere but at him. My knee is bouncing under the table and my stomach is at war with the food I just ate, but outwardly, I'm a silent wall.

  "Please look at me," he whispers. "I just want to talk. I need you to know how sorry I am for everything that we've done or didn't do. I miss my best friend... I miss you. You saved me when I lost my mom, and I'm ashamed to know that I couldn't do the same for you."

  My anger is instant. "No, not couldn't, Micah, wouldn't. You wouldn't. You really want to do this, you really want to talk about this... fine. You assholes treated me like I was a pariah. One day, you're all telling me how we're 'family' and the next, you're all telling me that I'm nothing but dirt. And this was BEFORE my sister died.

  “My sister had a reason for shutting me out. It hurt, but she didn't go out of her way to treat me poorly. But what was yours, Micah? You believed that I was responsible for hurting her. You believed I could do that without so much as a second guess. You chose her as if there was ever a choice to be made. That, Micah, hurt more than anything. It was death all over again, and I was alone.

  “When my sister died, none
of you came. She was gone, and you guys went on your merry way like we never even existed." I'm yelling now, hating that my body is shaking as it recalls the pain of losing everything. "And the worst part? I crawled to YOU, Micah. You. And you turned me in..."

  "That's not all true, Ange—"

  "STOP FUCKING CALLING ME THAT!" I scream, startling the few patrons at the bar.

  It's still early afternoon, so thankfully, there aren't too many people in here.

  I close my eyes, placing my palms flat on the table, and start my breathing exercises. I need to calm down, not for his sake, but for mine.

  At that moment, I hear Niykee Heaton's “Starting Over” softly playing through The Brewery's speakers and I almost start to laugh... almost.

  Fuck you, universe.

  When I open my eyes, I can see Micah's glassy blue eyes fighting to hold onto the tears that are about to fall. I immediately look away. My beautiful, sensitive boy is going to be the death of me.

  "Evelyn." He sighs, and my heart squeezes at hearing my name roll off his tongue with so much pain. "I have no words to explain what happened because I'm starting to think that there are things that none of us fully understand, and that's something we should ALL talk about together."

  I snort. "Not happening."

  "Fine." He grinds out his next words, "Then just hear me out. I haven't slept since the day your lips touched mine. I replay your touch, your softness, your warmth like a drug. You are the first and last thoughts of my every day. When I heard you were in an accident, I died a thousand deaths. I'm drowning in a rip current taking me out to sea with no life preserver and no way out. I know I don't deserve a life with you in it, but I need you all the same. Please, stop shutting me out."

  And now, I'm the one drowning. This is not happening right now. I cannot deal with him like this.

  I risk a side glance, not having the courage to fully look at him right now, and I'm greeted by the sight of a single tear falling down his lightly bronzed face.

  This beautiful brute of a man was never afraid to cry in front of me, and though it’s only ever happened twice in my lifetime, it’s a sight to see.

  I can feel the draw of his undertow, pulling me to him, and I'm fighting with every part of me to stay afloat.