by Amity Cross
“Are you sore?” the voice asked.
“Yeah.”
“Press this. It’ll help.”
Something was folded into my hand and I fumbled with the device, pressing the button that’d feed me pain medicine. After a moment, the throb began to subside and I was able to open my eyes.
Vanessa was sitting beside the bed, smiling at me. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
“I dreamed about my mum,” I whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I couldn’t… I couldn’t remember what she looked like.”
She frowned and patted my hand. “It’s the medicine. They screw with your perception, kinda like getting high.”
I snorted and wondered if there was an end to the confusion.
“Are we still in Sydney?” I asked.
“Yep. Sebastian few me and Ziggy up from Melbourne. Harry got us a private jet.”
“Ziggy’s here?” I whispered.
“Yeah, he flew first-class and everything. You should’ve seen him, Juni. He thought he was the bee’s fucking knees!”
“Sounds like him,” I murmured, my eyes drooping.
Her hand curled around mine. “Everything’s going to be okay, you know.”
“I’m just so tired.”
“That’s the anaesthetic,” she explained. “And your body healing itself. It’s hard work, you know.”
“Where’s Sebastian?”
“I sent him to get something to eat. The poor guy hadn’t eaten in who knows how long.”
I grunted.
“He’s hardly left your side since they brought you in,” she said. “He was a complete wreck. That man loves you, Juni. Madly, deeply, and all the words you can think of.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to go home,” I said, tears prickling my eyes.
“Soon,” Vanessa said. “We’ll go home soon.”
6
Juniper
The thwomp thwomp of the giant scanner echoed in my ears as I stared at my refection in the mirror above me.
I’d been moved to a private room in a general ward yesterday, finally leaving behind the ICU after a few days recovering from my coma. There wasn’t much to remember since I’d been asleep for most of it.
I was vaguely aware of Sebastian and Vanessa being there between all the poking and prodding, and then there were the dreams—crazy, unexplainable, messed up dreams. Either the medication was messing with me, or I had some real deep-seated issues to deal with.
When I’d finally been able to sit up, I’d never realised how much I took it for granted. Simple gestures had become monumental feats of natural wonder—like lifting my hand, going to the toilet on my own, turning my head from side to side, a small laugh, and standing on my own two feet.
Thinking about Sebastian and his constant attention over these last weeks, I felt a pang of something I wasn’t ready to face yet.
Things had just seemed to be getting great with us and something had to come along and screw it all up. I’d been happy that night, looking out on the guys horsing around on the deck, the promise of Christmas with Sebastian, and our plans for the future—the recording studio and music charity.
I snorted. Our luck was terrible.
“Juniper?” The technician’s voice echoed through the crackly intercom. “Try to stay completely still, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied.
Don’t even get me started on how shitty I felt. My stomach ached, my head throbbed, and half my hair had been shaved off. At least they tried to keep it in some sort of style. I’d always wanted to do the shaved side thing, but my hair was halfway down my back and I’d been too much of a pussy to cut it. Would anything grow back along the scar? I didn’t know, but Dr. Lindsey said it should heal pretty well, even thought it’d never really go away. It was much the same assessment with the bullet wound in my stomach.
The MRI kept making the thwomping sound as I stared at my reflection. My nose began to itch, and I did my best to ignore it.
I didn’t like not remembering what’d happened since Christmas. It was almost two weeks since, well… I’d been shot. Shot. What a crazy ride. I flinched at the word crazy.
“Juniper?”
“Sorry.”
I didn’t remember any pain. Sometimes, the sound of the gunshot still echoed in my mind when I closed my eyes, but that was all. Getting the staples pulled out of my skull wasn’t exactly a cakewalk, but it must’ve been nothing compared to what I could’ve felt. At least the knock on the head had saved me that. Ironic, huh?
“Okay, Juniper, we’re done.”
“How does it look?”
“Pretty good on first glance,” the technician’s voice echoed, “but we’ll let Dr. Lindsey have the final say, huh?”
The MRI whirred, and I sighed as I was spat back out of the bulky machine.
Dr. Emi Soh was the poor intern that’d been assigned to wheel me back and forth to tests and scans all week. Her family was from Hong Kong, but she’d come to Australia to study medicine in Sydney a few years ago. So far, she’d provided many moments of welcome and hilarious rebukes to Josh’s shameless flirting. It took my mind off the fact that my mind might not be one hundred percent what it was before the attack.
Attack… incident—I wasn’t sure what to call it.
Dr. Emi helped me out of the MRI and back into the wheelchair, smiling in that carefree mid-twenties way I used to. I didn’t feel like smiling much lately.
“Good news today, Juniper,” she said. “Everything looks good on your scans, but don’t tell Dr. Lindsey, okay? I’m not supposed to say since I’m just an intern.”
“I won’t tell,” I assured her as we made our way out of the MRI room. “But it’s nice to have some good news for a change.”
Dr. Emi wheeled my sorry arse through the hospital with Statfield on our tail. Talking about miserable arses, Shades had been moping around the place, never letting me out of his sight. I saw him so often that I was sure he had started to sleep at the hospital—much like Sebastian had. We made quite the procession as we forged our way down hallways and up elevators.
Honestly, I didn’t like all the fuss, but apparently, I was someone now… at least, according to the news. Sebastian and Vanessa had tried their best to keep it all hush hush, but the world had a way of finding me even when I didn’t want to be found. Stargazers was at the forefront of the Juniper Recovery News Team, posting daily updates and speculations, and security had already caught at least three sneaky journalists and photographers that’d tried to worm their way into the ward and get a picture of me. Hence, Statfield’s looming presence.
What was that I’d said about fuss? I let out a humph as we made it back to my room.
“Everything okay?” Dr. Emi asked.
“Just tired of the poking and prodding,” I replied.
“I know, but you’re doing very well. You were very lucky!”
I narrowed my eyes as she flicked the brakes on the wheelchair with her sneakered foot. If I had a dollar for how many times someone had told me how lucky I was, then I’d be richer than Sebastian and the entire band combined.
Now that I was out of the ICU, it meant I could get flowers and gifts, and a whole stream of visitors, most of which were famous rock stars. It caused quite the stir amongst the staff and other patients, but no one seemed to mind until a memo went out from hospital management and the guys had to cool off their flirting.
As I was helped back into bed, my gaze caught a new addition to the jungle I was amassing in my room. A humungous bouquet of red roses in a flashy black and silver vase was perched on the table, dwarfing every other bloom in a one hundred kilometre radius.
“The roses came for you while you were gone,” Sebastian said, edging into the room.
“Who are they from?” I asked.
He offered me a little envelope and shrugged. “Don’t know. I didn’t open the card.”
I sighed and tore the little card ou
t, turning it over to read the message.
Sending my love and best wishes for a speedy recovery. - Mallory Grigorio.
“They’re from your ex-girlfriend,” I declared, tossing the card.
Dr. Emi made a face and scurried from the room, sensing a tense conversation on the horizon.
“I don’t want them,” I said, my scowl deepening. “They’re just a reminder of things I want to forget.” The drama, the backstabbing, the threats, and non-disclosure agreements.
“She probably feels like it’s an olive branch,” he mused. “After the whole USB thing…”
“Fuck the USB. When I gave it back to her, that was my full-stop moment. I don’t want any olive branches dressed up as roses. Besides,” I threw a glare at the flowers, “they’re beautiful, but still have thorns that’ll rise up and prick you on the arse.”
Sebastian snorted, unsuccessfully hiding a smile. “In Mallory’s mind, they were the most expensive, therefore—”
“Therefore, you have an opportunity for some PR. Save the poor flowers from the bin and hand them out to all the patients on the floor. There’s more than enough to go around and the women will swoon.”
“Maybe Josh would be better suited for that. I’m taken.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Are you feeling okay?” He pressed his palm against my forehead.
“I’m fine.”
“I can see that. Your feistiness is coming back.”
Some my irritability faded, and I laughed. “About time something went back to normal around here.”
Sebastian picked the card up off the bed and flipped it over. As he read it, he developed a gnarly forehead crease. “Did you ever find out what was on the USB?”
“No,” I replied, leaning my head back onto the pillow. “Did you?”
“Damon said it was footage of her snorting coke.”
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. Damon’s sister, Victoria, had given me that USB. “Then I’m glad I wiped my hands clean of that mess.”
“I see you got the tacky bitch flowers,” Vanessa declared as she walked into the room. She’d obviously read the card and snuck it back into the envelope, which wasn’t any surprise when it came to my best friend. She loved to gossip and her penchant for scandal was well-known back in the Point.
“Tacky bitch flowers?” Sebastian’s eyebrows rose.
“Roses are so 1983,” she said, rolling her eyes. “At least she held off on the Baby’s Breath.”
“I thought all women liked roses?”
“Only on Valentine’s Day,” Vanessa schooled him. “May I emphasise the only part of that sentence.”
“I don’t care what happens to the flowers, I just don’t want them in here,” I said, climbing out the other side of the bed.
“Whoa, where are you going?” Sebastian came around the foot of the oversized hospital bed and threaded his arm through mine. “You aren’t strong enough to walk on your own yet.”
“I just want to look out the window,” I complained. “I’m fine.” The moment the words left my mouth, I winced as a tight feeling tugged in my stomach.
“Just lean on me,” Sebastian murmured into my ear. “It won’t be long until you’re back to normal.”
I shuffled forward, allowing him to steady my progress. Leaning against the windowsill, I waited as he pulled up the venetian blind, opening the view beyond the confines of the hospital.
Outside, I could see the city stretched before me. It was a brilliant summer’s day without a cloud in the sky—not even a smear of white marred the blue. Greenery broke up the concrete and glass vista, and for once in my life, I wished I was out there in the blistering heat instead of inside with the air-conditioning up to full.
But… going outside came with its fair share of complications.
Once I was allowed to go home, I’d have to face the world—the press, Galaxy, Sebastian’s fans, the police, and two different trials. One for Vix, and one for the woman who’d tried to kill me, but that was depending on their pleas before the sentencing judges. Either way, I hoped I didn’t have to take the stand.
There was only so much I could take, you know? This was the pinnacle of shit and I longed for more than a week of bliss before something else came along and added to the pile.
“What am I going to do about the press? I mean, it’s my life now, no matter what I want.” I pressed my forehead against the glass. “What do I even say?”
“You say whatever you want to say,” Vanessa replied from behind us.
“Maybe not whatever,” Sebastian added. “I can help you, or Harry can write something, but you don’t owe anyone an explanation.”
I’d never longed for a simple life more than I did right now, but would I give it all up if it meant losing Sebastian? Probably not. I loved him more than anything in the world, and if that meant facing a bunch of reporters, then I’d go out there with my head held high.
“There’s something that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” Sebastian said in an uneasy voice.
Turning, I looked at Sebastian, then to Vanessa, and back again. “What?”
“There’s no easy way of saying this…”
“What?” I demanded, sensing the tension between them. Something else had happened and they were putting off telling me because they thought I was fragile. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not. “Just tell me.”
Sebastian flinched, but he told me what was on his mind anyway. “Juniper, you were pregnant…”
“What?” I laughed. I actually laughed at him.
Of all the things I thought he was going to say, that was not one of them. It was so fucking ludicrous compared to all the shit we’d been through—stalkers, sex tapes, manipulative pop-stars, and money laundering ex-mangers seemed totally legit, but me being pregnant? Yeah, right.
“The bullet tore through your uterus and…” He bit his bottom lip.
My smile faded and I glanced at Vanessa, who had a distraught look on her face. They weren’t kidding. They were serious as hell. There’d been a baby growing inside me?
“A crazy woman killed my unborn baby?” I asked, not knowing which emotion to feel first—anger, despair, numbness, or indifference.
“Dr. Lindsey said your pregnancy was about six weeks along. The damage was too severe, so…” So they’d aborted it, was what he was trying to say.
I’d never wanted kids. I’d never even considered it due to the fact that children did my head in. They were noisy, messy, and completely irrational creatures. I couldn’t handle myself some days, let alone be responsible for a helpless little life. I didn’t want kids. I didn’t even want a dog—Ziggy was the exception because I could give him back to Vanessa at the end of the day.
I didn’t want to be a mother… but at the same time, it’d been taken away from me. A helpless little life that hadn’t had the chance to draw breath was gone.
My palms pressed against my stomach unbidden. I hadn’t even known. There’d been so much on my mind, so much stress, so much bullshit, that I hadn’t realised I’d missed my period, let alone… I knew I should be crying, or yelling, or something, but I felt nothing.
I shuffled across the room and sat on the bed like I was a zombie. I dragged the blanket up over my legs and hugged it around my belly, choosing indifference because it seemed better than the alternative.
“Juniper?” Sebastian asked, his voice tinged with concern.
“Can you take the roses out? I don’t want them in here.” I studied the weave in the blanket, my fingers twisting around the label sewn into the corner.
“Sure, I, ah… I’ll give them to the nurses.”
I was vaguely aware of him picking up the vase and wrestling with it through the door.
“Juni, are you okay?” Vanessa dragged the chair closer to the bed and went to take my hand, but I tugged it away.
“Do you think they’d let Ziggy come and visit?” I asked. “I really miss him.”
> “Maybe,” she said with a frown. “I can ask for you, if you want. I’m sure they’ll make an exception.”
“Cool,” I murmured, a wave of exhausting prickling across my skin. “That’d be good.”
7
Sebastian
I frowned, watching Juniper lull in and out of sleep.
She was laying in her hospital bed, hugging the battered copy of Pride and Prejudice I’d gotten her for Christmas like it was a stuffed animal. Ever since I’d told her about the baby, she’d been distant. She’d been quiet and closed, lost in thoughts she didn’t want to share. Knowing I couldn’t help seriously dented my pride.
Dr. Lindsey had delivered the latest batch of test results yesterday afternoon. Things were looking good. There hadn’t been any deficits due to the bleed on Juniper’s brain and the residual swelling had subsided. Her headaches had stopped and the wound in her stomach was coming along nicely. A few more days and we might be able to go home.
It was fan-fucking-tastic news, but Juniper didn’t seem impressed by any of it. Home meant going back to the McMansion, the place where she’d been attacked.
I couldn’t blame Juniper for reacting the way she did, but her indifference was concerning. We hadn’t been together long enough to discuss all those big life questions—marriage, family, children. It’d been difficult enough for her to cope with my fame, let alone all of those other things.
“Hey, did everyone get their Christmas presents?” she asked, turning her head towards me. “I forgot all about it.”
“Yeah, Harry made sure they were handed out,” I replied.
“Cool. Did Josh like his scrunchie?”
I snorted and raised my eyebrows.
“For his man bun,” she added.
“You’re kidding.”
“Not in the slightest.”
I chuckled softly, glad some of her spark was coming back.
After a long moment, she asked, “What’s happening with the tour?”