“A friend.”
“She was stroking your hair. I would say she’s more than a friend.”
“OK, she’s a friend with benefits.”
Ev is the one glowering now.
“And you’re wanting me to treat her with more respect?”
I sigh. “Point taken.” A cough comes from nowhere, and I grab my chest. My lungs feel like they’re on fire, and I can hardly breathe.
“Fuck, what’s wrong with me?”
“You have vomit in your lungs. You almost died, Travis.”
“What happened?”
“What do you remember?”
“Waiting for you at your house. You weren’t answering your phone.”
“I was fishing. Do you not remember anything after that?”
I shake my head and look toward the window.
“I was too hammered.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. You said crazy shit to Becca. Then you hit a tree, and you—”
“Wait, Becca? I spoke to her?”
“Yes, and you expressed that you still have feelings for her and miss her. After that, you took off, hit the tree, and then Becca saved your life.
“She dug vomit from your mouth with her bare hands, and for that reason, you’re going to rehab, even if I have to drag you there by your hair.”
My head falls back against the pillow.
“Fuck.”
“You’re also getting charged with a DUI and reckless driving, and the only way you’re avoiding a serious sentence is if you go to rehab.
“We’ve done airbrush work on the prosecutor’s bike before. I already spoke to him this morning, and he’s going to cut you some slack if you get help.”
“I can stop drinking on my own.”
“No, you can’t. I thought about it, and even before you and Becca broke up you were drinking often and heavily, especially on the weekends.
“Since you found out about Becca’s accident and the baby, you’ve been out of control. People who have a handle on their drinking don’t show up at work smelling of alcohol.”
“Fine, I'll go to some AA meetings.”
“You’re going inpatient. I want you completely away from alcohol. Dad was a recovering alcoholic, and it took him years to get a grasp on it. I’m going to do my damnedest to ensure it takes you one time.”
“I think you’re making a bigger deal out of this than need be.”
Ev glares at me. “Picture Becca sobbing over your lifeless body. Imagine her with vomit on her hands and in her hair. Her clothes covered, too.
“Or, picture yourself hitting me head-on, both our trucks colliding. I say that because I was driving the opposite direction only a couple of minutes away on the same damn road.”
I wave my hand in the air.
“OK, I get it. Shit.”
“Once you’re well, you owe Becca an apology. She went through hell last night and didn’t deserve it.”
Swallowing, I look to the window again.
“I’ll apologize.”
“I'm going home to get some rest.” Everett stands and stretches. “Mom’s on her way, and if you think my ass-ripping was bad, you haven’t seen anything yet. She’s pissed and worried.”
He strides over and pulls my head toward him. Leaning down, he kisses the top of it, and it’s awkward.
“I love you, Trav. I know the real you, and it’s why I have faith you’re going to beat this and get your life back on track.”
Chapter Nine
Becca
“Becca, what the hell happened today? Mom called totally freaking out. She said she and Dad saw you on the evening news. There were photos of you in the hospital with Senator Carlton’s son. Is there something you haven’t told me?”
“No, and I already had to hear it from Mom and Dad. Lord, she was losing it, screaming at me from the bottom of the staircase after they saw me on the television.
“Reese, I only met him today. I went to see Travis, and to make a long story short, a girl was in his room, and they looked pretty cozy, so I was crying in the hospital lobby. Clay Carlton spotted me and came over. He was only being kind and checking on me.”
“Good grief. Now, the entire country thinks he has a new girlfriend. His family is excessively wealthy and famous. This is a huge deal.”
“Yeah, and it will blow over. I’m sure everyone will forget all about me.” I grab his business card off my nightstand and eye it.
Unless I see him again, which I’m considering.
“Travis doesn’t have a girlfriend. She’s someone he knows, but he’s not dating her,” Reese says.
“Knows–meaning someone he’s fucking.”
My sister sighs into the phone.
“I honestly don’t know what he’s done with her, but if I had to guess, then yes.”
“Even after all he put me through, I had a gift with me to give him.”
“Go see him. Maybe knowing you’re OK after last night will be good for him before he goes to rehab. Just remember he isn’t well. He’s in no shape to be with you, regardless of the sweet things he might say.”
“I know that. After seeing him lying in that hospital bed because of his drinking, I faced the fact that the tragedies from summer turned us into two entirely different people. We don’t have a future, especially if he’s been seeing other women.”
“Sis, I wouldn’t say there’s no chance for the two of you. It’s just not going to be anytime soon.”
“As a friend, I’ll go visit with him, but can you make sure he knows I’m coming. I don’t want to show up and that girl be there again.”
“Sure. I’ll call Everett now.”
Travis
Clicking off the television, I jerk on the remote that’s connected by a long cord to the wall. I want it free so I can launch it across the room.
Seeing Becca crying on TV makes me sick and furious. I can’t believe she’s on the fucking news. What an asshole. That Carlton guy was only comforting her for the cameras.
He probably thought it would help him win over voters for his election next year. All politicians are the same … dishonest and conniving.
I yank on the cord again, and my exertion causes me to go into a coughing fit. I feel like I’m getting sicker. The withdrawal sweats and tremors are kicking my ass, too.
“Hey, you OK?” Everett asks as he enters my room.
“No, and I’m pissed. I saw Becca on the news crying to that asshole Clay Carlton Jr.”
“Well, I came to tell you that Becca’s heading over here soon. The reason she was crying today was because she came to visit you and found Mindy here.”
“Fuck. Can this situation get any worse? I don’t know why she keeps coming back for more. Can’t she see I’m no good for her?”
“No, she can’t because she’s still in love with you, and if you don’t want that to change, which I know deep down you don’t, then you’ll get your shit together as soon as possible. Be nice to her while she’s here and apologize.”
I throw my head back against the pillow and have another coughing fit. Ev comes over and feels my forehead.
“You’re burning up. I’m getting a nurse.”
I recall wheezing and coughing like this as a kid. I had pneumonia, and Mom took good care of me. She was sweet and nothing like she was when she was here earlier, ripping me a new one for being an idiot and drinking and driving.
I know I need help because I want a drink at this moment, and if I had a way to get one, I would in a heartbeat.
“I hear you’re not feeling well,” a male voice says. I look toward the door, and a young nurse is coming at me with Ev following behind.
If I have to be in this prison, I could at least have a pretty nurse to look at. Not that it fucking matters. Every female only makes me think of Becca.
None of them compare to her; not their beauty or sweetness can hold a candle to hers.
He shoves a thermometer in my mouth, and the rooms quiet while we wait for it to beep. As soon as he pu
lls it away, I start coughing once again.
“You have a high fever. I need to call the doctor and see if he wants to order some tests. I’ll be back with some Tylenol to get that fever under control.”
“Hi,” Becca says. I can’t see her, but I know that voice. Everett and the nurse turn.
“I’m sorry, Ms., but he’s too sick for more visitors, and visiting hours are almost over,” the nurse says as he strides toward her at the door.
“She’s staying,” I say firmly.
“OK, but not for long.” The nurse scurries past Becca and out of my room, and that’s when I see her gorgeous face. As pretty as she is, her eyes are red and a bit droopy. I know I’m to blame for that.
“I can go,” she says as she begins to turn.
“No, please stay.” My voice is a little too desperate as I sit up to give her a pleading look.
“I’ll go to the waiting room,” Ev says.
I try to take a breath, but my lungs will hardly allow it. There’s a sensation of fullness in my chest, and I’m beginning to feel like I’m drowning.
“Are you sure you want me to stay?”
All I can do is nod to her before I fall back against my pillow. “You’re not well.” Worry creases her forehead, and she nibbles on her bottom lip.
“No, but I’m alive, and I hear that’s because of you.” My eyes dart from her to the window, but it’s now dark, so I feel foolish and turn back to stare at her blue eyes.
“I just did what needed to be done.” She glances down at a bag she’s holding and fumbles with it. “Um, I brought you something. I was here earlier today, but you had company, so I left.”
“Yeah, I saw you on the news. I’m sorry, Becca. She doesn’t mean anything to me.” I pat my chest after struggling to get my words out.
“Have you had sex with her?”
My eyes widen. I wasn’t expecting her to be so blunt. “I’m not in a relationship. It’s all that should matter.”
She places a fist on her tiny hip.
“It might mean nothing to you, but it means everything to me. While I was mourning a friend, trying to recover from my burns, and bleeding out our baby, you were fucking around. Nice, Travis.”
“Shit, Becca. Don’t talk like that.”
“What? Don’t say the truth? Have there been other women?”
“I only did it for an escape, OK? They never meant anything to me.” From getting worked up, I begin coughing again. This time I can’t stop, and I can’t get any air. Shit ...
Becca
“It’s all my fault,” I say through a wail before Everett pulls me into his arms in the hallway of the hospital.
“Becca, stop. He caused this, not you.”
“I got him worked up, and it’s why he’s unconscious. What if he doesn’t wake up?”
“The doctors and nurses are working on him. He’s gonna be OK. Let’s get you to the waiting room, and I’ll call Reese to come up.”
Everett never lets me go as we walk to the waiting room that’s down the hall from Travis’s room. I never should’ve came here.
It’s obvious Travis and I can only cause each other turmoil. How did we go from being happy and so in love to this?
While we were talking, he began coughing and gasping for air until he passed out before me. I screamed for the nurses in the hallway, and they came running. A doctor was next, so Everett insisted we wait in here.
Biting my lip and tapping my foot, I watch as Ev calls one person after another. It’s nine-thirty now, but I’m sure all his family will arrive soon, one by one. Travis has so much love and support in his life. I hope he gets the chance to realize that.
***
I feel his fingers in my hair, but I hesitate to open my eyes. My cheek is resting on my hands as my head lays on Travis’s hospital bed by his waist.
Once his family knew he was stable, they left again, but I refused to go. Not until I said my peace.
“Becs.” His voice is hoarse but gentle, and I know I have to look at him. Opening my eyes, I find him staring down at me. We stay like this, our gazes tethered, as his fingers play in my hair.
I finally lift up. “How are you feeling?”
“OK. What happened?”
“You passed out. You have a serious case of pneumonia from aspirating vomit, but they have you on a high dose of antibiotic through your IV. They think you’ll be feeling better soon.”
He looks at the clock on the wall.
“It’s two in the morning. Why are you still here?”
I smile warily. “I still haven’t given you your gift.” Reaching to the floor beside me, I hold up the gift bag. “It’s all of your favorite snacks. There’s beef jerky, chips and candy.”
“Thanks.”
I set the bag at the end of the bed, and as soon as my hand is back within reach, Travis grabs it.
“Becs, I’m so sorry … for everything.”
“So am I, but I also stayed tonight because I knew I needed to say goodbye to you and to a future with you that obviously wasn’t meant to be.
“You’re always going to remember me leaving you, Travis, and you’d only see my scars as a reminder of me losing your baby because I was traipsing around Europe instead of being here with you.
“And I’m always going to see you as the man who failed to trust that we could overcome it and love again. The man who could sleep with other women while I was suffering tremendously both physically and emotionally.
“Most importantly, after everything you knew about the accident, you chose to drink and drive last night like the driver who is responsible for Molly’s death and our unborn child’s.”
Travis’s eyes fill with tears, and he looks away.
“I’ll only ever blame myself for what happened to you, Molly, and our baby. I regret the drinking and driving and never plan to do it again, and like I said earlier, those women don’t mean shit to me.”
“And I think that’s almost worse. At least if you cared for one of them I could make sense of how you could do it.”
I stand, letting my fingers slip from his, but he grabs my arm and pulls me forward until my face is inches from his. I shove my free hand into the mattress so as to brace myself.
“Trav—”
His dry lips slam to mine, and his hand cradles the nape of my neck to bring me closer. He holds our lips together but soon has to catch his breath.
“Becca, give me another chance.”
As our foreheads rest against each other’s, I shake my head no. Needing to put the wall back between us, I pull free from him and step back.
Glassy tears are about to tip over the ridge of his light eyes, and he fights to swallow, to hold it all in, and the visual is an added scar on my battered soul.
“Don’t Becca …” he whispers.
“I hope you’ll make the most of your recovery. We’ll be in each other’s life often because of Reese and Everett, so I want you to know I’ll always be kind to you. I’ll always have a special place for you in my heart, Trav. Please never forget that.”
I close my eyes so I can’t see his.
“Becca, this isn’t over. Our love will never be over.”
A cry strangles in my throat as I grab my purse and flee his room. His actions over the summer contradict his words. I guess I’m failing to trust, too.
Chapter Ten
Travis
I honestly thought I was dying those first few days without alcohol. Withdrawal is something I never want to experience again. I’m grateful I had pneumonia to help take my mind off the other physical symptoms. They were torturous.
It took over a week for me to be well enough to leave the hospital, and now I’ve traded one prison for another.
After my court hearing, I was sent here to rehab, and if I complete the month-long program, I’ll only get probation and a fine instead of a permanent record. I guess the time here is worth that.
It’s now day six, and I’m lying on my bed, waiting for another cla
ss to start. They run a tight schedule here, and we hardly get any breaks.
When we do, I lie here and think about Becca. It’s painful, but I’m still all about inflicting punishment on myself. I replay her last words over and over again. Her angelic face was pained, and I hated myself for being the cause of her suffering.
I saw through her words, though. They were rehearsed from where she had said them more than once, convincing herself that she meant them.
But she didn’t mean them. She still loves me, and I love her. The problem is, she wants her words to be true, so for that reason, I have to let her go.
I have to get sober and hope that one day I can find a woman who will give a shit about me even half as much as Becca did. She cared a lot, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late.
Not having her is my punishment. It’s my life sentence for Molly’s and my baby’s lives being taken.
“What’s hangin’ Castle?”
“It’s Casteel,” I say to my roommate, emphasizing the pronunciation.
“Ah, come on. Everyone needs a nickname.”
“OK, Clyde.”
“It’s Clive, but I see what you’re doing there.” He’s pointing at me and grinning. I imagine he’s the happiest fucker to ever attend rehab. And let me tell ya; he’s attended it plenty. He’s in his early fifties, and I think this is like his eleventh or twelfth stint in sobriety prison.
“Do you know what’s wrong with you, Castle?”
I roll my eyes and continue to stare up at the ceiling. My hands are laced behind my head, and my ankles are crossed as I rest on this crappy twin-size bed.
“No, but I’m sure you’re the expert who’s about to enlighten me.”
“You’ve made friends with your demons. You trust what they say more than you trust your own friends and family. That’s messed up, don’t you think?”
“Doesn’t every alcoholic have demons?”
“I believe they do; although, some may disagree. And if you wait too long to deal with them, you hit a point where it’s a struggle to stay sober regardless of whether you’ve faced them sick bastards or not.
Fail to Trust (The Casteel Trust Series Book 2) Page 6