Comforting.
Her hair tickles my cheek.
Not comforting. Annoying. I can’t move to scratch the itch.
Her hands rest on my shoulders. “Come on, Blake,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”
Love you, too. I’d burn down the whole world to rescue you.
If I could just scratch…
“His hand moved,” Marcel says. “Where’s that damn doctor? Aw, Christ. You trying to grope my sister even when you’re in a coma, you dick?”
Heidi laugh-sniffles, and the pressure on my chest eases. The tickling against my face also stops, thank fuck.
There’s a soft thud.
“Stop it. He can grope me all he wants as long as he wakes up.”
I’m going to hold her to that.
Forty-Two
Heidi
Days go by and Blake still hasn’t woken up. The doctors are still hopeful since he seemed to respond to us.
The doctors also said hearing the voices of his loved ones could help. We’ve all taken turns staying with Blake, reading and talking to him for as many hours as the hospital allows.
Alexa’s been asking for him constantly. I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not, but I ask Hope to bring Alexa to the hospital, and I meet them in the waiting room.
Charlotte knows how conflicted I’ve been about this all morning and tries to reassure me one more time. “I think if we explain it in a way she understands, it will be fine.”
“We’ll be right there with you,” Hope promises.
“Mama.” Alexa reaches for me and I take her in my arms. God, she feels heavier. Is that possible? Have I been away from her that long?
“Where Daddy?” Alexa asks, looking around the room.
“Alexa,” I whisper. “Daddy’s sick.”
She blinks at me. “Nooo.”
“Yes. He’s sleeping really deep. You can talk to him, though, okay?”
She frowns. Sure, that probably made no sense at all to her. But she answers, “Okay.”
Maybe I’m the worst mother in the world. Should I be subjecting my daughter to this when she can’t comprehend what’s going on?
I just don’t know.
After a deep breath, I take her down the hall to his room.
“Daddy?” she cries as soon as she sees him.
He’s not bruised and has no obvious injuries, but they shaved his head and face. The tubes and oxygen are probably terrifying to Alexa.
“Not Daddy!” She slaps her hands against my chest and attempts to push me away.
“Shhh.” I brush her hair from her face and kiss her little red cheeks. “They shaved Daddy’s face. It’s okay.”
I make a motion with my hand like a razor sliding over my cheek. “Like Pop-pop does sometimes in the morning.”
“Nooo.”
She frowns and studies Blake again before giving me another dose of suspicious toddler face.
I reach down and touch Blake’s arm, showing her the large four-leaf clover and lady bug tattoo that’s one of her favorites. “See. Same Daddy minus the beard.”
She reaches for him. “Daddy? I here!” she shouts. “Wake up!”
I wince at her shrill voice in the quiet hospital. “He’s trying, honey, I swear.”
Am I imagining it or did Blake’s eye twitch?
Oh, God. What if having her here is stressing him out? I’ve been so worried I’m causing my daughter long term psychological harm. What if I’m making his condition worse?
“Murphy?” Hope calls. “We’re all here. Alexa’s been asking for you every day. The doctors said it was okay to bring her to see you.”
“Daddy!” Alexa shouts. “Wake up!”
“That was definitely an eye-twitch,” Charlotte mutters.
“Why Daddy not wake up?” Alexa asks.
“I told you, he’s sick. But hearing your voice will make him feel better.”
“How’s she doing?” Rock asks, stepping into the room. He shifts toward Blake. “Any movement?”
“Not yet,” I answer.
“Pop-pop.” Alexa reaches for him and he takes her.
After they leave the room, I shut myself in the bathroom and cry.
Forty-Three
Murphy
What’s Heidi thinking, letting Alexa come here and see me like this?
Alexa’s cries pierce every part of my soul.
My damn limbs are still encased in concrete. Can’t move. Can’t…do anything.
I can’t even comfort my daughter.
Fuck.
Finally, they leave. I swear Alexa’s cries echo around me long after she’s gone.
“You’re not getting out of the VP job that easy,” Rock’s low rumbling voice penetrates my fog.
You see where I am, Prez? Told you I wasn’t VP material.
“As much as I hate you two calling me Dad, you know you’re like a son to me, Blake.” He laughs. “Hell, feels like I raised you sometimes. Even if I did a shit job of it.”
Metal scrapes over the floor briefly. Something brushes against my hand. “Proud of you. You’ve grown into an honorable man. A loyal brother. Already a worthy husband and father.” He huffs out a laugh. “That girl loves you so damn much. You need to come back to us because I don’t think she’s going to accept “coma” as an excuse to cancel the wedding.”
Rock’s not usually this wordy. Although, I suppose he doesn’t normally have such a captive audience.
“How’s he doing?” Hope’s soft voice interrupts Rock’s musings.
“Same.”
“I talked Heidi into going home for a while.”
Thank you, Hope.
“Trin drove them home. Heidi hasn’t slept in days.”
“Good,” Rock says. “Come here, baby doll.”
No, no, no. It might not look like it, but I’m here. For the love of all things holy, please don’t fuck right now.
Thankfully, they keep talking.
Eventually, their voices lull me back into that soft, floaty place.
After spending some quality time drifting in and out of consciousness, I fall into another dream reality.
This time I’m on my bike riding down the Pacific Coast Highway. Leaning into the twists and turns, passing miles of pristine beaches. Mists roll in, then disappear, revealing ocean views. Heidi’s at my back. Our first time on this road. Happy we’re exploring it together.
The mists roll in again…and I float for a while.
I’m aware of a pressure on my leg. A squeeze at my ankle? Or is that my big toe?
Who the fuck’s touching my feet?
“You better wake up soon, asshole,” Marcel rasps.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say he sounds emotional.
“You’re more than my best friend,” he continues in a low, raw voice. “You’re my brother. My other half. I already feel shitty that I haven’t been honest with you lately.”
He pauses. A scraping noise. The bed shifts.
“Been keeping too many things from you,” he whispers. “If you don’t let me make that right…” his voice trails off.
Bro, we are not overdue for a weeping, feelings-sharing, bonding ritual. Cut this shit out right now.
I force every ounce of effort into answering him, but nothing happens.
What the hell could he possibly be hiding from me?
There’s a pressure on my side. Something tickles my arm. “I know I give you shit all the time.” His voice is muffled but vibrates beside me as if he’s resting his forehead against my arm. Why can’t I feel that?
Is he holding my damn hand?
“The big brother thing must be why I enjoy hassling you so damn much.” He lets out a miserable laugh. “But you have to know you’re the only person I trust to take care of my sister and my niece. I should say it more often, but I respect you so much for the way you treat Alexa. You make my sister so damn happy. She lights up around you. Hell, she’s ready to beat a man to death with a hammer to protect yo
u. You’re the best man in the world for her.”
The pressure against me lessens, and he lets out a sad huff. “Well, no one’s really good enough for my sister. You and I got that in common. Two women we need to marry soon before they wake up and realize they can do better.”
Good to hear you admit it.
I want to say the words but can’t force my mouth to move. My eyes burn.
Is this asshole really going to make me cry when I can’t even open my damn eyes?
“When Rock and I were talking about what the hell the club was going to do if Z had to stay down there as President, I told him right away that VP job should be yours.”
See, I knew they were conspiring together.
“So, you have to get better soon, brother. Heidi needs you. Alexa needs you. The club needs you.” He hesitates. Coughs. “I need you.”
Forty-Four
Heidi
“Heidi! Get down here.”
Nurses and doctors turn to scowl at my brother.
I ditch the thick cup of coffee I’d been trying to choke down and sprint down the hallway.
“He’s waking up.”
“Well, call the doctor, not me.” I lunge for the call button and Marcel stops me.
“I already did.”
Blake groans, and I cry in relief.
A doctor and nurse rush in and check him over.
“Blake, can you hear us?” I keep repeating as they check his eyes and motor responses.
He groans again, and I burst into tears.
“That should do it, he hates when you cry.” Marcel pokes me.
“Shut up.” I slap him back.
“Mr. O’Callaghan, can you move your fingers for me?” the doctor asks.
A few seconds later, the doctor steps back and mutters something to the nurse.
“Come on, Murphy,” Charlotte encourages. “I can’t hold down the ginger power pact on my own. You know Hope’s not ginger enough.”
The doctor casts a strange look at her.
“He’ll know what I’m talking about.” Charlotte flicks her fingers at him. “Keep doing what you’re doing, doc.”
“Heidi?” Blake croaks out.
I practically knock the nurse out of my way to get to Blake’s side. I grab his fingers, careful not to disturb the IV in the back of his hand.
Then he’s quiet and still again.
“Blake?”
“It’s okay,” the doctor says. “This is a good sign.”
Forty-Five
Murphy
“Last chance to run.” Teller knocks on my hospital door and shoves it all the way open. He holds up a garment bag.
“That better not be a suit.”
“Come on. At least you won’t flash your ass to the whole hospital.”
According to the doctors, I’ve made steady progress since I regained consciousness. Enough to let me wheel my ass down the hall to the chapel and get married. Not enough to get the fuck out of here.
I quit my bitching enough to notice Teller’s also been forced into a suit for the occasion. “Heidi do that to you?”
“No, Charlotte did. But I assume Heidi put her up to it.” He waves the suit at me again. “You’re going to look like a jackass if your best man’s wearing a suit and you’re in your jammies.”
Laughing hurts my head and I groan.
“What’s wrong?” Teller shoots straight back to serious.
“My head fucking hurts.” I grab the suit from him and lumber into the bathroom. Still can’t look in the damn mirror. I don’t care what Heidi says, I look like a naked grizzly bear. Feel like one too.
I emerge from the bathroom and find Teller waiting for me with a wheelchair.
“I don’t need a wheelchair, you dick.”
“I think I liked you better when you were unconscious.” He pushes the wheelchair toward me. “Just get in it and shut up.”
I squeeze between him and the wheelchair and go sit in a chair by the bed instead. “I liked you better when I was unconscious too. You were nicer, for sure.”
His eyes widen and he goes completely still. “What are you talking about?”
“You know.” I wave my hand at the bed “When you told me how much you loved me and needed me.”
“You remember that?” he asks slowly.
“So, you admit it.”
He drops into the chair next to me. “Nah, you must’ve been hallucinating. That doesn’t sound like me.”
“Don’t fuck with me. I had some weird fucking nightmares, but I know you talked to me. Rock did too.”
“He did?” He raises an eyebrow. “What’d he say?”
“How he loves me more than you.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Now I know you’re lying.” His teasing expression fades. “All of us were in here talking to you all the time. Wrath threatened you.”
“Naturally.”
“Ravage read you a book of dirty jokes.”
“Surprised he can read.”
He snorts. “I’m pretty sure Charlotte and Lilly read an entire romance novel out loud.” His smile fades. “Heidi brought Alexa in to see you.”
“Wish she hadn’t done that.” I stare at him for a few seconds. “So, tell me about all the stuff you’ve been hiding from me.”
He doesn’t answer. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t already know about my best friend, so I start guessing. “You knock Charlotte up? I won’t be mad if you have one before Heidi and I have another.”
He closes his eyes for a few seconds.
Fuck. Did I hit the jackpot? No, he’d be happier. “Marcel?”
“You don’t want to talk about this today,” he finally says. “It’s your wedding day.”
“That means you have to do what I want, brother.”
“Fine.” He lets out a deep sigh. “We…were. She was.” His troubled eyes meet mine and I feel like absolute shit for joking around now. For forcing him into this conversation. “Don’t say anything to anyone.”
“You know I won’t.”
He sits back and runs his hands through his hair. “She wasn’t that far along. Nine and a half weeks, I think.”
“I’m so sorry, brother.”
He sighs again. “We didn’t tell anyone yet because it was too early but after…I wished we had, you know? Like, maybe it wouldn’t have happened? I felt so fucking guilty because I was away. Rushed back as fast as I could.”
“Where were you?”
He waves his hand in the air, dismissing the question. “This was right before Grace was born. That’s why Charlotte didn’t want to say anything.”
“I won’t say a word.”
“I felt fucking powerless. I never wanted her to go through that. Can’t stand her hurting. It’s the worst feeling in the world when there’s nothing I can do to make it better.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again. It feels so inadequate, especially since I forced him into talking about this when he clearly didn’t want to. “I wouldn’t have asked if—”
“I feel better now that you know.”
“Does Heidi know? She and Charlotte are close.”
“Nah, like I said, Charlotte didn’t want to tell anyone.”
It makes sense now that Charlotte didn’t show up to see baby Grace right away. Teller told everyone she was busy with a case at work and we all just accepted it. “I hate knowing you two went through that alone.”
“Bro, the only thing I could do for her was honor her wish not to tell anyone.”
“I understand.” Thank fuck, my memory is intact. I go back over those couple of months. The paternity suit with Inga the whole club got pulled into. I was working my ass off at Furious for the grand re-opening. Teller up and left at some point. “That why you ran off to Canada?”
“No,” he answers quickly.
I’ve poked at Marcel’s sensitive spots enough for one day, so I don’t pressure him for more.
Someone else knocks on my door. A nurse rushes in to check my vitals
and scribble down some notes. I swear to fuck someone’s in here annoying me every fifteen minutes.
Teller checks his phone while I’m getting prodded.
After the nurse leaves, Teller turns his phone my way. “Girls are headed down. Let’s get you to the chapel.” He grabs the tie I left at the end of the bed and ties it into a noose around my neck.
If I treat him too gently because of what he just shared with me, it’ll just piss him off. So the dickhead in me decides to be, well, a dick. “I’m not getting in that wheelchair. You should give me a piggyback ride.”
“Just get in the fucking chair.”
“Thank God you didn’t go into a healing profession,” I grumble. “Your bedside manner is shit.”
I grip the sides of the wheelchair, annoyed to be in it, but not entirely sure my big ass could lumber down the hallway on its own. Not that I’d admit that to Teller.
“You know, we’re way too young to have wheeled each other around in wheelchairs as much as we have,” he says as he squeezes the chair through the door.
“Watch my elbows.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What are you yammering about?”
“Me after the accident. You now.”
“You’d think we live dangerous lives or something,” I quip.
“Yeah.”
I tug at the tie he wrapped around my neck. “Was this necessary? Did the doctor approve it?”
He snorts at my question. “Did you really just ask me that?”
“I don’t do ties.”
“Apparently, today you do.”
I’m having second thoughts.
About the suit and tie. Not the wedding.
My only consolation is that Teller’s in a suit, too, and I know he hates it as much as I do.
When we arrive at the chapel doors, I put the brakes on. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Murphy, you look so handsome.” Charlotte clasps her hands together in front of her face while her eyes gloss over with tears. “I’m so happy to see you up. You had us so worried,” she whispers.
White Lies Page 27
