Give Me Forever Love (Give Me Series Book 3)

by Paige P. Horne

  “Put me a bed in here,” I say.

  “Sir, we can’t just move beds around.”

  “This room is big enough for two beds. I want to be near my wife. I have plenty of money to donate to this fucking hospital.”

  He sighs, clearly thinking it’s not best to argue with someone in my state. “Fine. I’ll arrange it.”

  “Thank you,” I say.

  “You’re welcome. I’ll inform your doctor also who’ll be back to check on you shortly.”

  “What about Rylee?” I ask.

  “When your wife is ready to wake up, we will bring Rylee down here. Until then, she needs rest and so do you.

  “The quicker you get better, the quicker you can go home. Which a lot of people will be grateful for.” He chuckles like he’s joking, but I can tell he means it.

  He exits the room, and I sigh before resting my head on the bed.

  Like the good doctor promised, the arrangements were made only a short time later, and my doctor did come by and inform me everything was looking good with my arm. No permanent damage was done. It was a clean shot. I was lucky.

  We were both so lucky.

  K woke up during the middle of the night, and when I did, she was curled up next to me, sleeping on her left side.

  In a shit-ton of pain, I woke up the next morning groggy. K had already gotten up and was sitting in her bed with none other than our Rylee girl.

  I didn’t make a sound. I wanted to witness the love pouring out of K into our baby for just a moment. It was such an honest thing to observe. The way she smiled down at her, the way she softly touched Rylee’s lips, and the quiet promise she whispered.

  “I’ll never leave you. I’ll never, ever leave you. As long as you want me, you’ll have me. For all the big stuff and every little thing in between.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Kathrine

  The next few days are spent with family coming in and out as Bryce and I heal and take care of one another and Rylee. Of course, the nurses have assisted with that, and I’m beyond grateful. I’m in a lot of pain. My body feels like it’s been beaten repeatedly with an iron rod.

  Lou brought soup, and Mary brought movies. Claire brought me some books, and while Lee lead Bryce out for a cigar, she and I talk about everything.

  “Did he tell you what happened?” she asks, sitting in a chair near the window.

  “No. We haven’t talked about it.” My defenses go up as I hold Rylee. I don’t want to get into an argument with my best friend right now, but it’s going to happen if she starts her shit about Bryce.

  “This is what I was afraid of. You know that, right?”

  I don’t say anything, I look down at Rylee, frustrated that I can’t get her to feed.

  “He got shot, K. Someone intentionally hit y’all and then shot him.”

  I exhale. “Claire, I’m aware of that.”

  “Then why aren’t you asking him questions? You and Rylee almost died for heaven’s sake.”

  “I will ask him questions. Just not while we’re in here.”

  “I think this is the perfect time. You’re stuck in one place. Might as well get it all out.”

  I groan, “Can you take her for me? She won’t eat and I’m getting a headache.”

  Claire stands up and grabs Rylee. “Should we call the nurse?”

  “Yeah. She’s got to eat.”

  “Okay,” she says, placing Rylee into her bassinet.

  “Look, I will talk to my husband about what happened. You don’t need to worry about it, okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says as she hits the button for the nurse. “I’ll just not worry about it.” She rolls her eyes, and I shake my head. I love my best friend, but sometimes she drives me insane.

  After Claire leaves for the day, we get more visitors. Austin stops by to say hello to Rylee and to talk cars with Bryce. They both mourn the loss of the Mustang and I can’t help but snicker at how really sad they are. Boys and their toys.

  It’s a day later and the doctor has cleared us both to go home… well, he’s finally cleared me.

  Bryce should have already gone home. He was good, but I needed to stay because my blood pressure was out of whack. They said it was because of shock, but they wanted me to be monitored just in case. And Bryce refused to leave if I wasn’t.

  He also wasn’t a great patient and constantly fussed. He got mad when a male nurse tried to help me feed Rylee, and it was ridiculous and funny.

  Still sore, but better than I was a few days ago, I grab a bag and haul it over my shoulder. I fix my joggers from being twisted around my waist and enjoy the feel of not being in a hospital gown.

  If I never have to come back here, it’ll be too soon. “You ready?” Bryce asks. I look around one last time, making sure we didn’t forget anything. It had become a hotel room, even though we were only here four days. Our family brought us too much shit, and then all of Rylee’s things we had to leave with.

  I’m not at all used to carrying an extra load of crap. Hell, my purse isn’t even that big, but I feel like it will grow twice the size in a short matter of time.

  I’m a mom now.

  This means everything to me, but it also means it’s no longer just me. I have someone to care for, to love and cherish. I have a piece of me on this earth, and I’m going to do everything I can to make her feel my love.

  I will never be like Bethany Harrison, and I promised Rylee that sitting right there in bed.

  “Let’s go,” I reply.

  We exit the hospital, happily with bruises and a bandaged arm and a shoulder with a gunshot wound and sling.

  But we have each other, we have Rylee, and life couldn’t be better.

  We make it down the elevator, across the lobby, and out into the sliding glass doors. We walk to the truck that’s parked right out front, and as we near, I spot Harlow.

  _____________

  Bryce

  Kat stops in her tracks, and my eyes follow her line of vision. My blood starts to simmer at the sight before me.

  The woman who tried to send me to prison stands beside an unmarked car, looking right at us. I don’t need this right now. “Go get in the truck,” I tell K.

  She looks over at me, giving me a look that says no.

  “Please don’t argue with me on this one,” I ask her.

  She exhales, but grabs the car seat Rylee girl is in from my hand and walks off. I feel bad for that, knowing she’s hurting and still sore, but I need to take care of this, and she’s already been stressed enough. Hell, we couldn’t leave because of the stress and shock I’d caused.

  I’m so ready to talk to Danny about this mess, it’s driving me nuts. I called him once when I took a walk, but he didn’t answer. He returned my call late, and I didn’t want to take it because it would have looked suspicious to K.

  I’m pretty sure I know what this is about. I was shot for fuck’s sake, and I haven’t spoken with a police officer yet. I’m pretty sure my brother has something to do with that, and I’m also pretty sure this woman does, too.

  “You’ve got five minutes,” I say.

  She slides her shades on top of her head. In black slacks and a tucked in white button-up blouse, she looks the part she plays.

  She nods. “Do you remember what the guy looked like?”

  “No,” I say.

  She narrows her eyes.

  “He had on a ski mask. Can I ask why the fuck you’re the one on this case?”

  “Your brother requested it.”

  I smirk and cross my arms. “And why would he do that?”

  “Well, he wants to make sure the guy is caught, and I’m pretty good at doing that.”

  I throw my head back and laugh because this is comical.

  “Why would he target you and Kat?” she asks, sliding her hands into her slacks.

  “I have no idea.”

  “Really?” she asks. “So, it wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact you sold your club to Danny O’Br
ien?”

  I shrug. “He’s just a guy who wanted to buy my club. I sold it to get away from that lifestyle. I have a family now, as you can see. Whatever else he’s into isn’t my business.”

  She nods, clearly not believing me. Her eyes grow tight as her lip lifts a tad. She looks to the ground, tilting her head. “That was some break you got, huh?”

  One thing I learned well during all those years I owned an illegal gambling operation was a solid poker face. If Harlow came fishing for answers about how I got out, she’s getting jack shit from me.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Harlow. Tell my brother I said hello.” I turn to walk, and she calls after me.

  “If you remember anything…anything at all, you make sure you reach out.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say before I continue to walk.

  I open the truck door and climb in next to my wife. I look to the back, seeing that Rylee is buckled in correctly.

  “I know how to do it,” K says with an eye roll.

  “Did I say anything?” I ask, putting the truck in gear.

  “You looked.”

  “I was just checking on our baby,” I tell her. I reach over and squeeze her knee before putting my hand on the wheel and hitting the gas. We bought a new truck for Rylee. My classic cars aren’t very baby-friendly on the inside, and now my favorite one that Austin built is totaled.

  I have more, but that was the car, man.

  The drive-in car, the rooftop car, the first date to Monnie’s diner car. It’s been with us since the beginning. Cars shouldn’t mean so much, but sometimes they do.

  “So, are you going to tell me what that was about?” she asks.

  I drive with one hand, already getting a headache, because even though I’ve tried to convince myself K didn’t need to know the details about the wreck, I’ve realized that’s the dumbest shit ever.

  I got shot.

  Harlow was waiting for us outside of the hospital.

  My girl is many things, but she isn’t stupid.

  I sigh. “When we get home, okay?”

  She eyeballs me, but then she nods. “Okay, baby. When we get home.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kathrine

  Accidents happen every day. I wasn’t paying attention, I forgot to look, I slipped up, but that wreck was no accident. I know deep in my gut that something else is going on here.

  Bryce hasn’t talked to me about it. We’ve both been so focused on getting better for Rylee, and then we had at least two or three family members at the hospital with us every day, so it wasn’t easy to have a serious conversation.

  Or maybe we’ve just been avoiding it.

  Bryce pulls up to our house, and we enter the carport. The lights blink on, and I open the truck door, carefully turning and gripping onto the “oh shit handle” as I climb out. Because of my banged-up condition, I’m having a hard time doing simple things like get out of a car, pull my pants up, and really just being.

  It sucks, but I’m alive and so is my family.

  With his good arm, Bryce grabs Rylee out of the back, and we three enter the house. I breathe in that sweet scent.

  “Welcome home, Rylee girl,” I tell her as he sets her car seat onto the counter. She’s asleep, though, so she’s clueless. I pull the handle back on the car seat and kiss her forehead, just marveling at how perfect she is.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask my husband after I stop staring at our baby. Bryce leans against the counter, watching me watch her.

  “What?” I say as I open the fridge, thinking I’ll make us an egg sandwich or something easy, but holy shit at the food we have in here.

  “I love the way you love her,” he says. “And no matter what, I know she has the best mom she could ever have.”

  I smile, because that means a lot to me. I want to be the best for her. I want to show her that mamas don’t always leave, and love doesn’t have to be so damn hard.

  “Lou must have come by,” I say, looking over at him.

  He peeks at the fridge and laughs. “She must have. I knew I shouldn’t have given her a key.”

  “This is good,” I say. “We don’t have to worry about cooking. It’s a win.” I smile and pull out a container. Popping the top off, my stomach growls when I see it’s spaghetti.

  “Yum,” I say. “Grab us some plates.” I turn the oven on and twist around to gently unbuckle Rylee. She’s got on a Winnie the Pooh onesie, so I grab the fabric covering her small hands instead of her actual hands, carefully moving them so I can get the straps off.

  I remove the blankets and slide my hand around the back of her neck and her bottom before lifting her. She stirs but doesn’t wake up as I carry her over to the bassinet in the living room. I lay her down and her little legs move, but she quickly falls back out.

  Bryce grabs a glass and fills it with water before twisting the top off an ibuprofen bottle and popping a few.

  “We’ve got to go by the pharmacy and get our meds,” he says.

  “Yeah. I wonder if we can get someone to do it. I don’t feel like leaving the house.”

  “I’m sure Lou will.”

  “Will you call her?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he says, grabbing his phone.

  “I’m going to take a shower while the oven heats up. “Watch her, okay,” I say.

  He nods and I head up the stairs, ready to wash the hospital off. Climbing the steps is no easy task. My whole right side of my body aches with each step. I hold on to the railing, grateful when the trip is over. I would love a bath, but I don’t have the time right now, so a shower will have to do.

  Walking into our bedroom, I kick my shoes off and hiss as I bend and remove my pants. With some struggle, I wiggle out of my shirt, tossing them into the laundry basket as I head into the bathroom and turn the water on. While it warms, I look at my body in the mirror.

  Good Lord.

  I’m black and blue, purple in some spots and yellow in others. I look horrible. My mind replays the car wreck. I remember the lights coming at me, but after that, nothing. Until I woke up in the ambulance and asked about Bryce. They told me he’d been shot but was stable. The panic that I felt, the pure hot panic was so alive, I could almost reach out and touch it. I wanted out of that vehicle. I wanted to be with my husband, and then I felt a gush of something between my legs.

  Rylee wanted out then, too.

  My body was in shock and stressed to the max. I shudder as I think about that day. It all could have been much worse. My bones are tired, my mind exhausted. I leave my reflection and grab a bag from under the counter to wrap my arm in. Once I’m satisfied that it won’t get wet, I step into the warm water. I took a shower at the hospital, but nothing is like your own. I relish in the feel as the water rivers down my back, over lesions and tiny cuts from broken glass.

  I bathe and wash my hair with lavender soap before getting out and drying off. The bag held up okay, only the outer part of the bandage got wet, but it’ll dry. I’ll need to rewrap it anyway when I get my meds.

  I go with a robe, so I don’t have to struggle with shirts and pants. Wrapping my hair up, I head back down.

  Bryce has the food in the oven and he’s sitting on the couch.

  “Do you want a shower?” I ask, taking a peek at Rylee.

  “In a little bit,” he replies quietly.

  I move from the bassinet and take a seat beside him, trying to find a comfortable spot, but everything’s too hard against my body, so I just convince myself to get used to this ache.

  “I’m hurting,” I say with an exhale.

  He looks over at me, his eyes tired, his skin pale. He’s lost weight over the last few days. We’re a broken mess, but we’re here.

  “Can we talk about this?” I ask. “Can you tell me what Harlow said?”

  He nods. “She wanted to know if I knew what the guy looked like.”

  “The man who shot you?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t see his face. Only his gold teeth.”

&nb
sp; “Why is she asking you these questions? Surely someone else could have handled this. Not the woman who tried to put you in prison.”

  He looks over at me. “Jace wanted her to and she asked about that, too.”

  “Why?” I ask. “And what did you tell her?”

  He shrugs. “Who knows what my brother is thinking these days. She said it was because she was good at catching people.”

  My jaw tightens.

  “And I told her it was nice talking to her before I walked off.”

  “Are you worried she’ll dig into that?” I ask. “You getting off so easily?”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. Something tells me she’s learned her lesson, and I’m sure Jace has something to do with that also.”

  I play with the belt on my robe, thinking all of this over. It’s never been confirmed that Jace and Harlow have something going on, but it sure does look like it from where I stand. Maybe one day we’ll know the truth, but for now, I don’t think Jace wants to tell us. Maybe he’s ashamed, maybe he doesn’t want to hurt his brother. Maybe there’s nothing going on, but I do know one thing. The woman loves him, and that was obvious when I confronted her at the courthouse. I could see it on her face.

  “I think… I mean, I’m not sure, but I feel like I may be to blame for the accident.”

  I turn to look at Bryce. Confusion swirls its way into my head. I don’t know how he would be at fault for any of this.

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “My relationship with Danny…Bones. I think because I sold Red to him, that man who shot me, thinks I’m actually working with him and his crew.”

  “Why would he think that just because you sold a club to him?” I ask.

  He shrugs, adjusting his arm and wincing when he does. His face turns even paler, and he looks almost scared.

  “Bryce, what is it? What aren’t you telling me?” Fear and panic tornado in my chest, causing everything else I feel to dull.

  “I went there a few months ago.”