Wheels of Fire (Hollywood Demons Book 3)

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Wheels of Fire (Hollywood Demons Book 3) Page 29

by Autumn Jones Lake


  “She just fell asleep,” I explain in a hushed voice.

  “Are you Mr. Adams?” she whispers.

  “Yeah, I just got here.”

  “Good. Good. She kept asking for you.”

  A few more bricks of guilt land in the emotional knapsack strapped to my back.

  “Let me check a few things, then we can go out in the hallway and talk.” Obviously, I can’t stop her from doing what she came in here to do, so I hover, probably closer than appropriate. Even though she’s the doctor, I can’t stand anyone near Mallory. Waking her up, bothering her, poking at her when she needs to rest.

  When the doctor finally finishes, I’m able let out a long breath and follow her into the hallway.

  “All her vitals are good.” She scribbles something on her clipboard.

  “When she wakes up, I’ll start her discharge—”

  “She can go home already?”

  “Yes. She might have some bleeding for a few days but she should be fine.”

  “Do you know what caused it?” I ask.

  “There’s no way to know for sure. Miscarriages are exceedingly common.” She hurries to add, “It’s not her fault or anything she did—”

  “I didn’t think it was.” What kind of jerk do I look like? “Will she be okay?” I swallow hard. “Can we still have another baby?”

  Her tense expression softens. “Whenever you’re ready, it shouldn’t be an issue. Most women will go on to have a healthy, full term pregnancy.”

  I blow out a breath. “Good. That’s good. She really wants kids. She’s so great with them… Jesus we didn’t even know.”

  “I understand. That’s not uncommon, either.”

  “What do I need to do for her?”

  “Keep an eye on her. If the bleeding gets worse or doesn’t stop after a week or so, she needs to see her doctor. She might be sad. Emotional. That’s normal. Be patient with her. But if she’s not moving past it, have her talk to someone.”

  “Okay.”

  What else should I ask? There has to be something. I’ve never been so at a loss for words.

  “Go and sit with her.” She pats my shoulder. “She shouldn’t be alone.”

  Alone. What would have happened to Mallory if she’d been at home instead of on set? I wouldn’t have known anything was wrong until I tried to call her and even then, I might have assumed she’d gone to bed early.

  I return to her bedside, drop into my chair, hold her hand, and watch her until my eyelids start to droop.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chaser

  A shadow falls over the doorway, pulling me out of my half-sleep.

  I glance up. “Are you fucking serious?” I growl and jump out of my chair.

  Andrew steps back into the hallway, hiding his face between the over-sized bouquet of assorted white flowers in his hands. “Easy. I heard what happened. I just wanted to make sure she was okay. To make sure you’re both okay.”

  I grab his elbow and lead him away from the door in case this conversation gets loud. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  The flowers rustle against his side. “Is she okay?”

  An enormous part of me wants to tell him to fuck off. Mallory’s not his problem or his business. But fuck if anyone else has shown up to check on us. Not that anyone even knows where we are or what happened.

  “Yeah, the doctor said she’s going to be fine.”

  “Pam said…”

  “She lost our baby.” I grind out the foreign words, not sure the impact of them has even hit me yet.

  “Fuck, brother. I’m so sorry.” He reaches out and awkwardly squeezes my shoulder. “Are you going to try again?”

  I narrow my eyes. Why does he always have to be such a nosy bastard? “We weren’t…we weren’t trying. We didn’t even know.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs. “Still your kid. I’m really sorry, Chaser.”

  Andrew’s somber demeanor knocks me off-balance. He’s the kind of person I’d expect to make a “get out of jail free card” joke in this situation, not offer compassionate words. “Thanks.”

  “Do you need anything? Want me to bring you some stuff? Food?”

  My stomach growls at the mention of food, but I refuse to eat until Mallory’s able to. “Nah, we shouldn’t be here much longer. They said they’ll discharge her tonight.”

  “That seems soon?” He scrubs his hand over his cheek. “Do you need a ride home?”

  Fuck, actually we do. But no matter how nice he’s being right now, I sure as shit am not accepting a ride from Andrew.

  “I’ll send Benny over to pick you guys up,” he says, as if he’d read my mind. “Have him bring some clothes for Mallory or whatever.”

  I try to hide my shock that he understands with a simple, “Thanks.”

  “I get why you still don’t want me around her. But I want to help.”

  Exhaustion and too many emotions tug at me to argue. “Thanks.”

  We stare at each other for a few seconds, then stare at the walls, the ceiling, the floor. It’s awkward as fuck. A somber Andrew is unnerving and let’s face it, I still don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.

  “Here.” He thrusts the flowers at me. “Tell her they’re from you. I don’t care. I wanted to do…something for her. That was the only thing I could think of.”

  “I’ll tell her you stopped by,” I promise.

  “If you need something, call me. I’ll send Benny over now, so when they let her go, you don’t have to wait around.”

  “Thanks.” I lift my chin. “Appreciate it.”

  Mallory’s blinking and trying to sit up when I return.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I set the flowers down on the table by her bed and hurry to her side.

  “No, I feel like a cement truck backed up over my lower half.” Her gaze lands on the flowers. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  Could I lie and never tell her about Andrew’s visit? Sure. Is that the kind of man I am? Will I feel good about lying? No and no.

  “They’re from Andrew. He stopped by to check on you.”

  “Really?” Her tone’s neutral, or maybe wary. “You didn’t get into another fight?”

  “No.”

  “God.” She covers her face with her hands. “Pamela probably told him and everyone else.”

  “I doubt it. Well, maybe Andrew, I don’t know. She was pretty shaken up.” I pry her hands loose. “She’s the one who called me so I could get my ass here.”

  “Oh.” A quick smile flickers over her lips. “Well, we had a brief heart-to-heart this morning before…” Her jaw drops and her eyes water. “I passed out on set, Chaser. Bled everywhere. That’s so…”

  “Awful. Thank fuck they got you to the hospital so fast.”

  “I vaguely remember…something.” She shakes her head. “I’ve never been in so much pain before. Or so embarrassed.”

  Christ, I’d do anything to have taken that pain on for her. “Try not to worry about anything right now. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You need rest.”

  “I need to be on set tomorrow.”

  “No. You don’t.” I press my finger to her lips when she opens her mouth to protest. “You need to rest and recover. It’s not optional.”

  She dozes again for a while. A nurse comes in to check on her, assuring me everything’s fine and they’ll be discharging us soon.

  Someone raps their knuckles on the open door and clears their throat. “Chaser?”

  I turn to find Benny filling up the doorway and walk over to shake his hand. “Hey. Thanks for this.”

  “No problem.” He jerks his thumb to the left. “I’ll park myself in the waiting room. When you’re ready to go, say the word.” He holds up a plain, brown paper bag. “Brought some sweats for her.”

  “Thanks.”

  He peers around me. “Hey, Mallory. You doing all right?”

  She blinks at him, then me before finally answering. “Getting
there.”

  “See you in a bit.” He waves at us and turns away.

  “What’s Benny doing here?” Mallory whispers.

  “Andrew sent him. Knew we’d need a ride.”

  “Oh.” She yawns. “That was nice of him. I guess.”

  I set the bag on the bedside table and pick through the contents. Nothing fancy. Plain gray sweatpants. Sweatshirt. White canvas shoes and socks. Benny probably stopped at the first store he saw and grabbed stuff off the racks. Still, I’m grateful I don’t have to leave Mallory’s side to search for clothes.

  My mouth twists into a grin when I reach the bottom of the bag. Benny even tossed in a cheap, over-sized pair of sunglasses and a black baseball cap. I hold them up. “Benny’s got you covered.”

  “Aw, that was so sweet.”

  “Knock. Knock.” A soft voice draws our attention to the door. The woman holds up Mallory’s purse and another bag of stuff. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”

  “That’s okay, Cindy.” Mallory waves her inside.

  “Are you all right?” She leans over and pulls Mallory in for a gentle hug. “I was so worried about you. And Sean was a total dick. Wouldn’t tell us anything. He was livid that Pamela took off with you. I should’ve gone too. But he wouldn’t let anyone else leave the set. I’m so sorry.” Her quick, bumbling rush of words is way more information than Mallory needs right now. I gently touch her shoulder and she quiets down. “Sorry. How are you feeling?”

  “Better than I was.” Mallory’s face twists into a grimace. “But still in a lot of pain.”

  “Well, Sean said they’re going to shoot around your parts, so don’t worry about doing anything but getting better for the rest of the week.”

  Week. Fuck that. She’ll take as long as she needs and Sean or whoever Shallow End’s director-of-the-week is can fuck the hell off if he thinks Mallory’s coming back a minute sooner.

  After Cindy leaves, a different doctor examines Mallory and declares she’s ready to go home.

  While I’m helping Mallory get dressed, an orderly wheels in a chair and promises to return in a few minutes.

  “Wait here.” I set Mallory on the edge of the bed and help her put on her sneakers. “I’m going to let Benny know we’re ready to leave so he can get the car.”

  She winces. “I’m not going anywhere. Trust me.”

  Benny tosses the magazine in his hands to the side when I pop into the waiting room. “We’re ready to leave. Orderly’s got a wheelchair for her.”

  “Cool.” He jumps up and I walk him over to the elevator. “Uh, look,” he mumbles, “There were some paparazzi waiting out front when I got here. I’m going to pull the car to the back entrance. Orderly should know where to take you. They’re used to this—”

  “Wait a minute. Used to what? Paparazzi? For us?”

  “Yeah, I think so.” He glances away.

  “Shit.” That’s the last thing Mallory needs. “Okay. I’ll meet you around back. Thanks.” I slap his shoulder and return to Mallory’s room. She’s waiting in the wheelchair, her purse, and a few other plastic bags gathered in her lap while she finishes signing a clipboard full of forms.

  She glances up with tired eyes and gives me a half-smile. “I already need a nap.”

  “Let’s go.” I nod to the orderly. “We’re getting picked up out back. You know where to go?”

  “Yup. That’s probably best, sir. Follow me.”

  The day’s long gone. It’s dark. The mild air feels good after being in the stale hospital all afternoon. At the end of the long, curving sidewalk, Benny’s bright, red Toyota 4Runner shimmers under the parking lot lights. He jumps out and hurries to open the back door. The truck’s lifted so I have to give Mallory a boost. She’s stoic and doesn’t make a sound until she’s situated. No one bothers us.

  The vehicle’s awkwardly quiet. What the hell are we supposed to talk about? I know Benny from the tour but it’s not like we’re best buds. I end up turning around to check on Mallory about a hundred times.

  I’m still facing her when we turn onto our little street.

  “Fuck,” Benny mumbles and slaps his palm over the horn. “Move, asshole.”

  “What’s going on?” I peer out the window at the small crowd of reporters covering our front lawn. “What the fuck are they doing?”

  He shrugs but it’s more of a nervous jiggle. “I, uh, they were all over Andrew’s place earlier too. Guess they found their way down here.”

  “Why? What’s their problem?”

  He keeps staring straight ahead. “I don’t know.”

  A sick feeling settles in my gut.

  Benny nudges his truck into our driveway. “Stay there. I’m going to walk you up to the door,” he promises.

  “Why are there so many people on our lawn?” Mallory’s sleepy whisper is barely audible over all the noise from outside.

  “I don’t know. Stupid tabloid assholes.”

  “Because of me? That’s sick. Who does that?” At least she sounds more angry than sad, although I’d prefer neither.

  Benny opens my door and then the back door, shielding us from anyone who tries to get too close. “Back the fuck off,” he growls. “You’re trespassing.”

  Ignoring everything around us, I reach in and slip my arms under Mallory. “Hang on to me.” I press a quick kiss to her cheek and lift her out of the truck.

  “Mallory! Are you okay? Do you want to tell us what happened?” a woman shouts.

  “Get the fuck out of our way,” Benny barks.

  Mallory wraps her arms tight around my neck and buries her head against my shoulder. “Why are they doing this?” she whispers.

  “I don’t know.”

  Benny shoves photographers right and left, clearing a path for me to follow behind him. Flashbulbs go off. Lawsuits are threatened. A camera cracks and shatters against the sidewalk. Finally, we make it inside the house.

  Benny casts a nervous glance at the door. “You need me to stay, Chaser?”

  “No, I think we’ll be fine.” I set Mallory down on the couch and she drops her bags on the floor.

  “You really might want to think about hiring someone until this dies down,” Benny says. “I know a guy.”

  “We’ll be okay. Thanks, though.” I can always call on my MC brothers if this continues.

  He slips a card in my hand. “If you need something, call me. Don’t worry about what time it is, okay?”

  “I will. Thank you, man. Tell Andrew I said thanks, too. Okay?”

  “You know it.”

  The noise and questions start up again when we open the door. Benny slips out into the crowd. I slam the door shut, throwing all the locks into place.

  Mallory slumps against the couch and closes her eyes.

  “Let’s put you to bed,” I offer, picking her up off the couch.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Mallory

  Zapped of energy, I can barely move. I’m uncomfortable, though. Need to visit the bathroom and change the stupid pads the hospital gave me. Chaser carrying me around everywhere isn’t helping.

  “I need to do a few things, first.” I push at his arm, hoping he’ll take a hint and set me down.

  But Chaser’s not a take-the-hint man. He’s all direct words and actions.

  “What do you need, little dove? Tell me.”

  Heat burns my cheeks. “Female stuff.” I point to one of the bags on the floor I’d brought home from the hospital. “I need some…things. Don’t worry about it.”

  He leans in and kisses my forehead. “I’m sorry to tell you but I’m not one of those men who runs screaming from the room at the words ‘female stuff’ and I worry about everything when it comes to you.”

  Of course that’s his answer. “Can’t you leave me to wallow in my misery and shame alone?”

  “No.” He dips down and scoops up the bag.

  Thankfully, he does drop me off at the bathroom and give me privacy. I take care of myself and give th
e shower a longing stare but there’s no way I can stand up for that long.

  Chaser knocks on the door. “Ready for bed?”

  “Yes.” I open the door and he hands me a glass of water.

  “You need to eat something before you take those pain meds.”

  I drop my gaze to the cup of yogurt and spoon in his other hand. “Okay.”

  I wobble my way into the bedroom on my own and perch on the edge of the bed to spoon down some of the yogurt before accepting the pain pills. “Thank you.”

  He tucks me in and as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m drifting away.

  Sometime later, the bed dips and shifts behind me.

  “Chaser?”

  “Right here.” He gently curls himself around my body and kisses my shoulder.

  “Thank you.”

  “You never have to thank me.” He nuzzles against my neck. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t here, Mallory.”

  I turn so we’re facing each other and rest my forehead against his chin. “I’m happy you’re here now.”

  The day’s events or maybe the pain pills must be making me slow. I tip my head back. “Oh my God, you’re missing shows, aren’t you? I didn’t—”

  “Shhh.” He places one finger over my lips. “Today was an off day. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Nick will fill in for me tomorrow night.”

  I scowl and pull back. “He’s not half the guitar player you are.”

  He chuckles and leans in again, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Nothing in the world is more important than being with my girl, right now.”

  Pain wakes me the next morning.

  I lurch my way into the bathroom, take care of myself and open the door to find Chaser waiting for me. “This is a little creepy, Chaser.”

  “What? That I’m worried about you?”

  “I’m too big to fall in the toilet and drown,” I mutter as I shuffle back to bed.

  Behind me, he chuckles and follows. “Do you need anything?”

  “Sleep. More pain meds.”

  I must drift off because a few minutes later, he’s nudging something cool into my hand and asking me to sit up. My stomach lurches at the yogurt. “Ugh, I can’t eat any more of that.”

 

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