by Brynne Asher
Shit. I know he’s her uncle. I know they’re her family, they’ve had her forever and are more than protective after losing her parents. I know they don’t know me. I know he has every right to say what he just said. But that fucking pisses me off. She’s only been mine for five days and that’s exactly what she is as of right now. Mine.
I pull in a breath to calm myself. “You’re right. I’m here and that means something. I’m not going anywhere and if she lets me, I’ll see her through this.” That’s all he’s getting from me. I’m afraid to say anything else, showing him just how much he’s pissed me off.
Gino stares at me a beat before lifting his head once and says on an exhale, “All right,” turning to look back to his brothers decisively. “Jude needs to get in to see Gabby, get the women out.”
As Tony and I walk back into the ER bays, we hear her aunts talking softly. When I pull back the curtain to walk through, Gabby’s laying there asleep. Her right temple has a large bump and the bruising is seeping out to the side of her eye. Thinking how hard he must’ve hit her makes my stomach turn. She’s in a hospital gown, hooked up to an IV and I hear the beeping of the machines monitoring her heart and oxygen. Her three aunts are standing sentry around her bed. I move to the foot with Tony next to me.
Tony, gently does what he needs to do to remove his mom and aunts from the room. “Dad wanted me to tell you that you’re needed in the waiting room. Jude and I’ll stay with her.”
“I’m not leaving, Tony. You can tell your dad—” Lizzie starts but Tony interrupts her.
“Other people need to see her, too. She’s not going anywhere—she’ll be here all night. There’re probably things you can do for Gabby at home. Someone’s gonna have to keep Mia tonight and make sure she’s set when she gets home tomorrow. You can work on that.”
Sighing, Lizzie gives in. “I’m sure Lanny and Sophia will take Mia—I’ll arrange it. We should get to her house, clean it, and start making her some dinners or something.” She looks up at her sisters-in-law. “What do you think?”
Emma and Tia both agree. All three women take turns leaning down to gently kiss their niece on the head and say their goodbyes. I move to the side of her bed and without taking my eyes off Gabby, say to Tony, “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
I pull up a little round swivel stool, lift up her hand and turn it over in mine. Scrapes and bright pink scuffs mar her palms that’re usually smooth and soft.
“Fuck. I didn’t do enough,” I say.
“It’s not your fault, Jude. You’ve gotta let that go.”
“I didn’t want her to go out alone today. She talked me into one store. One store was all it took and she was vulnerable.”
“Gabby can be persistent and usually doesn’t have a problem getting what she wants. She was the same way with her dad. Shit, she’s that way with all of us. She can be hard to deny. You’re new to her charms, Jude. No one can blame you for giving in to her.” His tone is a mix of frustration and resignation.
“I should’ve stuck with my gut about her going out.” Looking up at him, I add, “But that’s good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good luck with that,” Tony responds sarcastically.
A nurse comes in and starts directing us. “We’re ready to move her. Her things are on the counter in a bag. If you could grab those and follow me, we just had a private room come open. She should be able to go home tomorrow.”
Tony leaves to tell his family she’s moving and her room number. As the nurse starts clipping all her medical lines to the bed and making some noise, Gabby stirs. Turning her head and barely opens her eyes, I lean down close to her face, placing my hand on the uninjured side of her head. “Hey sugar. You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.”
“Jude?”
“Yeah, baby, right here.”
She looks at me and when I gently take her hand in mine, her eyes fill with tears. Seeing that look on her face and tears in her eyes for the first time, cuts through me. I want to pick her up and hold her at the same time put my foot through another wall.
I barely hear her when she says, “I’m sorry.”
“Gabby,” I whisper back. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I didn’t believe you. I should have listened. I never thought Trevor would hurt me. I’m so sorry, now I’ve put everyone through this.”
“Listen, no one knew what he was capable of, don’t say that. Your family and I are just relieved you’re okay. I’ll be right here—I’m not leaving you.”
Her tears spill as she goes on. “It’s just the things he said to me, I never thought he’d be capable of anything that happened today. He was a different person.”
“I know. Let’s talk about it later after you get some rest. They’re gonna keep you tonight for observation, I promise not to leave you.”
“Thank you.”
“Try and go back to sleep,” I say, hoping sleep will come so she can stop thinking about what happened.
When I lean in to kiss her, I can taste her tears and feel that in my gut. We finally roll out and I follow, carrying her stuff and IV.
They move her from one bed to the other and I tell how much pain she’s in when she moves. I make a mental note that she needs to keep on top of her pain meds. She settles, getting as comfortable as she can with heavy eyes.
I kiss her forehead. “Gabby, please, go back to sleep.”
Even though her eyes are drowsy, she looks back up at me. “I can’t believe I have to get beat up and threatened by Trevor Harper for you to say please.”
I give her a small smirk. “Sugar.”
This time I lean in to softly kiss her lips. I pull up a chair so I can sit close when her eyes start to drift. Putting my elbows to my knees, I let my head hang with my hands on the back of my neck, thinking about how today could have been so different.
Then I hear her soft voice call for me. “Jude?”
“Right here, baby.”
“Thank you for being here.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Get some sleep.”
“Okay.”
She rolls as best she can with a wince, settles on her side and goes to sleep.
I open my eyes and have to squint immediately. Although the lights are low, they hurt my head. I’m so freaking tired.
The nurses woke me up about one thousand, three hundred, and forty-two times last night to check my eyes, ask my name, how many fingers they were holding up, and if I knew what year was. Then they’d poke around on my ribs and stomach asking me if I was experiencing any new pain.
The last time they woke me up to ask these insane questions, I told them whining, “I know my name, the year and I can see just fine. And the old pain is plenty, I have nothing new to offer you, thank you very much. Please, leave me alone.”
Jude, who has not left my side since he came to me in the ER, turned to the nurse. “I think that means she’s good.”
Nope, Jude hasn’t left me. He’s been sweet, gentle, and not as bossy as normal. He did lose his sweet and gentle disposition the first time the nurse came in to lift my gown just below my breasts, seeing the enormous, ugly greenish-blackish-yellowish bruise that’s now decorating the left side of my midsection. The room went tense and when I looked up, his face was tight, radiating Jude Fury. He didn’t turn green or burst out of his clothes like the Hulk, I guess that meant he got it together, because the next time I woke up he was back to sweet and gentle.
I look over through my squint and see Jude stretched out, reclined in the vinyl, utilitarian, navy blue chair. His arms are crossed with his head fallen to the side where he’s asleep. I’ve never seen him asleep before. Although I would never tell Big Bad Jude this, the only way to describe him is beautiful. Even from across the room, I see his black, thick eyelashes fanned below his closed eyes and his face is shadowed with stubble. His hair is messier than normal and his long jean clad legs are stretched. He’s lost his shoes and his sock covered feet are crosse
d at the ankles. It seriously sucks that it hurts to move right now because I’d love to be snuggled up next to him.
All of a sudden, the door is thrown open, the light is flipped on, and a blonde woman in a white coat marches in. My eyes immediately close from the invasion and I hear Jude moving on the other side of me.
“Ms. Carpino,” she calls loudly. “My name is Dr. White. Sorry it’s so early, but I’m going to check you during my rounds. If you get good reports from the nurses over the next couple hours, you’ll be released. How does that sound?” I finally pry my eyes open and see hers are on Jude, with her hand extended over my bed. “You must be her husband. Sorry, they didn’t have her down as married.”
Jude shakes her hand as I mutter, “Um…” at the same time Jude shocks me by stating with authority, as if we’ve been together for years, “Not husband, but she’s mine.”
“Gotcha.” Obviously in a hurry, she looks back down at me. “Do you have someone to stay with you a day or so when you get home? I’d like for someone to be with you, watching for signs of the concussion for at least another twenty-four hours.”
Again, at a loss for words I try, “Well…” at the same time Jude says with decisiveness, “That’ll be me.”
All business, Dr. White continues speaking directly to Jude without a glance back to me. “Wonderful. Keep checking her pupils for dilation today. If she shows any signs of nausea or confusion, you’ll need to call us immediately and she’ll need to be seen. I’m ordering a script for her pain meds, just follow the directions making sure she stays on top of those over the next day or two. Then she can take them as needed. Pain meds can cause constipation, she’ll need stool softeners but you can find those over the counter.”
I take in an audible breath as the topic of my possible constipation is being discussed with Jude Ortiz. Closing my eyes, I pray my concussion is causing me to hear things that aren’t really happening.
But alas, I realize I’m completely coherent when Jude rasps, “Sounds good, we’ll stay on top of it.”
The very blunt Dr. White then checks my eyes and pokes around on my ugly bruise before turning back to Jude. “Good to meet you both. I’m sure you’ll be out of here in a couple hours. Take good care of her.”
Jude nods with promise that yes—without a doubt—he’ll take fine care of me. With that, she turns to leave as abruptly as she entered and I realize I never put two words together as Big Bossy Jude handled the whole scene, including my possible constipation that will require stool softeners.
Needing nothing more than to disappear at this juncture, I close my eyes, praying I’ll vanish into thin air.
Realizing God isn’t having mercy at the moment, I hear, “Gabby? You okay?”
Not opening my eyes, I simply respond, “No.”
“Sugar, what’s wrong?”
I go on with my eyes closed. “Everything.”
“Are you in pain?”
“Well, yeah.”
“What else is wrong?”
I open my eyes to look at him. Suddenly, I’m overwhelmed by everything. My life, my aches and pains, Trevor Harper, all things Jude, being embarrassed by my possible constipation, my broken door, flooded basement—for heaven’s sake, the list just doesn’t end.
Tears well in my eyes and I don’t have the energy to fight them. With nothing else to do, I lay it out for him. “What else is wrong? What’s not wrong, Jude? Nothing is right. I hate to be a complainer, but my head is freaking killing me and my ribs ache. My house has been broken into, my basement flooded, and I haven’t had time to shop for carpet. Who knows when that will happen because it’s not safe for me to go shopping. That doctor just talked about stool softeners and me possibly being constipated in front of you. How embarrassing is that? My friend’s husband, who I never liked, has turned out to be a gun smuggler and a first-class asshole who threatened to teach me a lesson and rape me in the process. And when did I become yours? I mean, I know you’ve seen me almost half naked, but still, I’ve known you for what…six days?”
The tears won’t stop for the second day in a row as my rant burns out. I realize I haven’t been paying attention to Jude, otherwise I would have reined it in. His eyes are narrowed and his hands are fisted with white knuckles.
“What did you say?” he whispers.
Wiping my tears away and not knowing what to do, I say, “My ribs ache?”
“No. The part about Trevor Harper, Gabby. Fill me in on that part.”
It’s obvious I really don’t know Jude Ortiz well because I’m not quite sure how to handle this. I hadn’t really thought about having to tell him because everything has been a whirlwind since yesterday. I’m pretty sure he’s going to lose it, but he’s going to find out what Trevor said to me eventually.
I decide he needs to cool off first. “Do you need to sit? Maybe they can bring you some Jell-O or something. I think you need to take a few deep breaths.”
“Gabby,” he bites out in a warning.
“Okay, but you look really pissed.”
“That’s because I am. I’m not going to ask again. What about Harper?”
I sigh and recap the I-think-he-thinks, he-said-she-said scary event that I never want to think about again. “He said he knows I’m with a cop. He thinks I’m informing on him, can you believe that? I think he thinks I knew you before what went down at Megan’s that day. He said he talked to Megan and she said you were with me and you warned her not to contact me. Then he said he’s seen you coming and going from my house, which is really, really disturbing, now that I think about it. Then he said if he finds out I was informing on him he’s going to teach me a lesson.”
There.
Maybe that’ll be enough.
“Gabrielle. What else?”
I sigh and finish. “Fine. He said he’d teach me a lesson but play with me first and make sure I didn’t enjoy it, because in his words, I’ve been such a cold bitch to him for years. That’s it. Now, maybe you should sit.”
But he doesn’t sit. He does, however, start to move in slow motion, crossing his arms over his broad chest, looking down at me. Closing his eyes, he turns, his back is to me while running one hand through his hair. Putting a hand to the wall, he rests his other on the back of his neck.
Not really knowing how to handle Slow Motion Jude, I find myself a little worried. “Um … are you all right?”
“Give me a second, Gabby.” His voice is strained and tense.
“Oh, okay.”
His arm comes around—still in slow motion—and pulls his phone out of his pocket, he messes with the screen and puts it to his ear. “Mac? Yeah, I want Harper’s ass and now. And you’d better hope and pray someone finds that motherfucker before I do, because I’ll kill that son of a bitch with my own hands. Yeah, something has happened. He not only put his fucking hands on Gabrielle but threatened to teach her a lesson and rape her in the process. Right. I also found out Harper’s been in contact with his wife. We need to get with the US Attorney and get that warrant rushed for the tap on her phones. He’s been watching Gabby’s house and who knows what else. Fine. She’s goin’ home in a couple hours. I’m gonna stay with her today, be back tomorrow if I can arrange someone to be with her. Yeah. You can call the PD, she’s ready to make a statement about yesterday, if we can get that done here before she leaves so she can rest when she gets home, I’d appreciate it. All right. Later.” He slides his phone back into his pocket, crosses his arms and turns to look at me.
Not knowing what to say, I scrunch my nose, tilt my head and say in a small voice, “I’m sure one of my aunts can stay with me today if you need to go to work.”
He narrows his eyes. “Now’s not the time to be cute, Gabrielle.”
My mouth drops open and I exclaim, “What?”
He moves closer, leaning in with fists to the bed on both sides of me. Keeping his raspy voice low, his face is close to mine when he goes on. “Tony warned me last night, sugar. You’re persistent, have a way of getti
ng what you want.”
“He did not say that.” I’m going to kill Tony.
“Yep. But not anymore. Yesterday could’ve been a whole lot worse than it was and you just confirmed my fears of what could’ve been. Until we have Harper and his army behind bars, you’re not to be by yourself. I’m staying with you at least for today and every night until I know you’re safe.” Moving so close with his lips almost on mine, he finishes. “And don’t even think about telling me you have to go shopping and it can’t wait, that’s not going to work on me again. I’m on to you, Gabby.”
Well. Now I’m pissed.
I do not do anything just to get my way. I like getting my way, sure. Who doesn’t? But it’s not like I’m manipulative or anything.
“Move,” I demand. “I want to get up.”
“No.”
“Move. I have to go to the bathroom,” I try again.
What he does not do, is move. He leans in and kisses me, but I’m pissed and not feeling cooperative. His lips and tongue move down my cheek to my ear. There, he whispers softly, “Sugar, I need to make sure you’re safe. Not knowing what happened to you before I got here yesterday tore me up. Let me take care of you, can you do that for me?”
I don’t know if it’s the guilt from putting myself in a situation to get hurt, or if it’s another Jude induced coma, but either way I relent and as usual. “Okay.”
He smiles at me and kisses me again. Feeling cooperative this time, my hands go to his hair as he kisses me deep and long.
That is until my three aunts barge in and I hear Aunt Tia, the first through the door say, “Oops, we should’ve knocked!”
Jude lifts, looks into my eyes and grins before laying another quick one on me.
“It’s okay,” Jude says. “She was just getting up.”
He holds out his hand to me to help me from the bed. It hurts like hell and I try not to show it on my face as Jude gently pulls me to a standing position. I wrap my hospital gowns around me tight—they leave a lot to be desired.
