Twisted Love (Blinded Love Series Book 3)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  Dr. Levine divided us up, only allowing three in at a time. Whiskey, Hunter, and I went first, our shoes clicking over the tile in rhythm to my rushing pulse. Nerves flipped and flopped under my skin, and my stomach swished like it was out at sea.

  I didn’t know why I was so nervous. Petrified, actually. A sizable part of me wanted to dart out the back door before we got to his room. Was I more scared the doctors were wrong and the disappointment would crush me into sawdust? Or that now everything would be different? I loved him, but maybe it wasn’t enough. I was horrible at this kind of stuff, of being selfless and patient.

  What kind of a girlfriend would I be? What if he no longer felt the same?

  The door creaked as Hunter pushed it open, but he teetered at the entrance, motioning for Jayme and me to pass first, his jaw clenched, his body twitching as if he were about to leap off the ledge into a pool of panic. Neither Jayme or Hunter had seen Chris before with the machines, tubes, IVs, and half his head covered in gauze. Only I had.

  Jayme took Hunter’s hand in hers, peering up at him with a knowing look, her free hand touching his face. “I know,” she whispered.

  It hit me. This had to bring back so many nightmares for them. Their lives once hung in the balance, hooked up to the same kind of machines keeping them alive. Hunter had been on life support too many times for someone his age. This had to be excruciating for them to relive.

  A nerve convulsed under Hunter’s eye, but he stayed silent, keeping his hand in hers, moving together behind me. They were such a team. So completely in love it made my heart ache. I had never thought I could ever have that. I wasn’t like Jayme. She was a good person. I wasn’t. I would always take the easy way out. Choose to protect myself over giving my whole heart to someone. That was how I used to be, I reminded myself. Maybe things would be different now.

  Tentatively I stepped forward, hands gripped together. I moved around the curtain, air locked up in my throat, as his body came into view. He still had IVs in his arms and an air tube in his nose, but the breathing tube was gone. His eyes were shut, his chest rising and lowering in an easy tempo with the soft beep of a monitor.

  I shuffled forward, my chucks squeaking over the tile, and his lashes fluttered. I licked my dry lips, watching his lids crack open, blinking several times until they fastened on me.

  “Hey,” I croaked, stepping up to the side of the bed. I could feel my pulse thump at the back of my neck.

  He stared at me for a few beats before moving on to Hunter and Jayme, who came around to his other side.

  “Hey, man.” Hunter cleared his throat. He moved to touch him but jerked back, shifting his body weight awkwardly. “You scared the shit out of us, Singer.”

  Jayme took his hand, making gulping noises like she was trying to fight back tears.

  Chris’s lids narrowed, gazing around at us again with confusion. A cord of fear strummed in my chest.

  “Jones, Doug, and Megan had to wait.” Hunter swallowed, his voice stiff. At least he was trying to talk. I couldn’t seem to utter a syllable. Go figure, he’s unconscious and I can tell him my darkest secrets, but awake, I clam up, looking for an escape tunnel.

  Chris licked his lips, his attention roaming nervously between the three of us.

  “I’m sorry,” he finally spoke, his timbre cracked and barely a whisper, peering at us nervously. “But who are you?”

  Whiskey’s mouth parted and her eyes went wide.

  “You don’t know who we are?” Hunter leaned back in shock.

  “Should I?” Chris replied weakly, his attention ping-ponging between us, his anxiety weaving my stomach into knots.

  “Fuck.” Hunter absently ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Jayme.

  “You really don’t know who we are?” Jayme’s chest heaved, looking back at her boyfriend, then to me.

  “No,” he replied earnestly. His voice was raw and scratchy sounding, probably from the tube that had been down his throat.

  Tension filled the room, none of us knowing what to do or say. They had cut into his brain. Amnesia was a possible side effect of the surgery itself, the swelling and the trauma to the brain, but none of us imagined it while we were busy being thankful he was alive. A wave of heartbreak crashed down on me.

  “Definitely not.” Chris slowly shook his head on the pillow, closed his eyes, and mumbled, “You awkward fucks can’t be my friends…”

  It took me a moment before his words sank in. A humorous smile tugged at Chris’s mouth, his eyes still closed.

  “You asshole,” I hissed, my fingers digging into my palms.

  “There she is.” He opened one eye, smiling at me. “There’s my girl.”

  “Fucker,” Hunter exclaimed, but his mouth turned up in a smile as he shook his head. “Dammit, Singer. You really are an asshole.” Hunter reached his hand out, clasping Chris’s in his. Jayme let out a breath and started laughing.

  “You guys were being…weird.” He voice was weak as he sagged deeper into his pillow, exhaustion tugging at his features. “Freaked me out.” He glanced at me. “Especially you. You’ve never been quiet. It’s like…” He swallowed hard and winced. “…I was dying of a brain tumor or something.”

  “Not funny.” I wagged my head, leaning my hips into the bed.

  “Come on, I’m hysterical.” His hand caught mine, lacing our fingers, his lashes fluttering, trying to stay up.

  His little act broke the wall, relaxing us, letting us tease and be ourselves.

  “You were about to have a roommate.” Hunter snorted, gripping Chris’s shoulder. “Like I haven’t been in intensive care enough.”

  Chris beamed, but his eyes were already shutting again with the effort.

  “We’ll let you rest, but we are right outside for you.” Jayme embraced his hand, rubbing his arm. “Plotting our revenge.”

  Chris smiled again, but fatigue was tugging him down.

  I leaned down, brushing his forehead with my lips. “I’ll be right outside.”

  His hand clamped down on mine. “Stay,” he muttered so softly I almost missed it.

  Hunter patted his friend one last time, winking at me, before he and Jayme slipped from the room, the door closing behind them.

  “Gyps.” He tugged on my arm.

  Gently, I climbed up next to him, tucking myself into his side, my head on his shoulder. He sighed deeply and pulled me closer, letting himself fall into a deep sleep.

  I tried to hold back the tears, but they fell silently. I thought I would never feel the warmth of his body next to mine again, his lungs pumping with life, his arms around me. I couldn’t get over how good it felt, and I realized I never wanted to be without him again. I never wanted to be anywhere else.

  Chris returned that piece of myself I thought I lost. To be able to love someone so wholly.

  In my turbulent world, he was my center.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “I’m not kidding. I will call that big husky nurse in here and toss you out on your ass.” Chris grabbed the clicker from me, turning the dated TV back to sports.

  “Hmmm.” I tapped my mouth, a flirty smile playing on my lips. “That might be fun. Think I’d like Baloo man handling me.”

  “You would.” Chris leered, his eyes flicking to me, a salacious grin hitching the side of his face. “Come here.”

  My eyebrow curved.

  “Gyps,” he rumbled, clasping my elbow and tugging me onto the bed, pinning me on my back. He put his hands to my face, his lips grazing mine.

  “Chris,” I warned, but his mouth cut me off, kissing me deeply. My body curled into his. I had no shame, but this was a line even I couldn’t cross. Not until the door was closed.

  “We can’t.” I broke away, breathless.

  “Believe me. I can.” He kissed me again, nipping my bottom lip. His fingers working at my shorts. “The doctors are idiots. This will only improve my well-being.”

  The need for him almost overrode everything else…except t
he fact the door was wide open and nurses and patients were walking by every few seconds.

  “Chris. We can’t.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words to me.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever said them.”

  He sighed and collapsed back into the pillows. “This is another reason why you need to go…or I’ll be dry-humping your leg soon.”

  I chuckled, sitting up.

  Chris had been in the hospital for more than ten days and was going insane. The first couple days were rough, but to the surprise of the entire staff, he bounced back extremely fast. They still were nervous to release him since they almost lost him. They’d gotten the entire tumor out, and the swelling in his brain and face had gone down exactly as it was supposed to.

  I stayed at the hospital the entire ten days, which surprised even me. I think we both kept waiting for me to freak out, or hit the point where I was done, but I didn’t. Now that he was pushing me to go, I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t get my fill of him. Though not having sex was murder. I had the girl version of blue balls.

  My cell buzzed in my pocket with a text, pulling my attention away from Chris.

  “It’s probably Tristen. Again.” He scratched at the dressing wrapped around his head.

  He was right.

  Aiden had called two more times after the initial message he left. I told him I couldn’t return to New York yet because of a family emergency. Aiden was talking about giving the job to someone else if I didn’t make this next meeting he set up.

  “Gyps, you need to go. This is a huge opportunity.” Chris shifted on the bed, restless.

  “Not yet.”

  “Yes. Now,” he snipped, jerking my neck around to stare at him. “It’s time. I’m fine. And if you use me as an excuse to not go after this, to take this amazing chance, I will kill you. I’m not kidding, and I’ll bury your body under a treadmill.”

  “Evil,” I hissed, my hand going to my mouth.

  “Spread your ashes over a Tough Mudder event or a marathon.”

  My mouth dropped, my eyes blinking in mock horror. “You are a hateful human being.”

  “Not joking, Gyps.” His eyes softened. “I want you to get this. You deserve it.”

  My gaze dropped to my hands.

  “Fear has fucked shit up enough between us. Don’t be scared to go after this.”

  It didn’t take me long to realize this opportunity meant everything to me. I only seemed to run away from things that scared me. Because it meant so much to me, the thought of losing it crushed me.

  The night I thought Chris died, I realized how important he had become to me. That was why I ran from him for so long and tried to destroy what we had so it wouldn’t hurt so bad when I lost it later.

  “Plus, you’re making me crazy, woman.” He nudged at my leg.

  I chuckled. “I think the nurses feel the same.”

  “No, you are annoying them.” His voice grew husky, leaning into my ear. “You are driving me crazy.” The way he said it I knew he meant it a totally different way. “If you’re not going to fuck me, I need you to get on the plane.”

  “You want me thousands of miles away?”

  His brown eyes caught mine, cutting through every layer I had.

  “You’ll be back. Or I’ll come get you,” he said seriously. “There’s no more running…for either one of us now. We both know that.”

  I gulped, but no real terror imploded in me over his declaration. I didn’t want to run. We had spent most of the week talking. Confessing everything. The second time I confessed to Chris what had happened to me, both in the past and present, was a lot different when he was awake. He could barely contain his rage at the bastards, the sorrow he felt for what I went through, but not once did I feel any kind of pity. That I couldn’t take from anyone.

  “Don’t doubt, if I ever hear of them—see them—I will kill them. I’m not kidding. They need to be in jail. Getting the same thing done to them over and over.” His teeth gnashed together while his fingers slid gently through my hair.

  “I just want it behind me.”

  “I support whatever you want. But fuck, Stevie…I don’t know if I can let this go, knowing they’re out there. What they did to you.”

  “You know, without that night happening, I would have never come back home. Met Jaymerson…met you.”

  He glared at me, like that was not at all a good enough reason for what had happened to me. Maybe it wasn’t, but all I could think was what happened led me to him. To this Stevie.

  We had talked until no skeletons remained in my closet he didn’t know about. If our sexual connection suddenly ended, our relationship would be sustained on pure blackmail.

  “I don’t want to leave you,” I replied, gritting my teeth at the vulnerability I was showing.

  “Gonna happen eventually.”

  “What?” I jerked.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” He exhaled, his shoulders dropping, rubbing my arm. “I meant you will eventually have to leave. Your home, your job is in New York.”

  His home was here.

  The one topic we had avoided was our future. It felt too soon with him still recovering to talk about it. I hadn’t been someone who had ever talked about a future with anyone. My future had consisted of brunch the next day, maybe, not where we saw ourselves months or years from now. If any other person would have said that to me, I would have ghosted them so fast they would have doubted I even existed. With Chris, it scared me but mostly thrilled me.

  “I want to see your artwork on the next The Devil Inside album.” He brushed my blonde and fading black hair off my face. I hadn’t thought about dyeing it in weeks. The obsession had left me. I knew it was because I no longer had to hide or protect myself. From him or the world. He knew everything and still wanted to be with me.

  “I know why you really want to get rid of me.” I brushed my mouth over his.

  “Sponge bath from the nurses?” He grinned against my lips.

  “And here I thought the nurses wanted to give me a sponge bath,” I teased.

  “Fuck. Yes.” He nodded his head. “Let’s do that instead. As long as I can watch.”

  “Too bad you didn’t tell me before I decided to leave.” I slipped off the bed, standing up with a shrug.

  “Now who’s being evil and spiteful?”

  I winked.

  A knock tapped at the door, turning us both toward the entrance. The huge male nurse named Carl strolled in. I guess he had been Hunter’s nurse when he and Whiskey were here. I already missed those two so much. They headed back to DC to their jobs now that Emlyn was stable and home again. Jones, Doug, and Megan had visited every day. Megan and I had come to some kind of truce. I knew whatever happened that night was some drunken mistake. I think both had been trying to forget about someone else. Krista and Jason had come over too.

  “You ready for a bath, man? You stink.” Carl sniffed at the air dramatically.

  Chris glared at me.

  My smile widened until it ached. “You two have fun.”

  “I hate you,” Chris grumbled as he gripped my hand, pulling me into him. His mouth crashed against mine, kissing me so deeply I forgot Carl was even in the room. “Call me when you get there,” he said quietly when we broke a part. “I know you’ll kick ass.”

  I nodded with a heavy exhale. He was right; I needed to do this. If I didn’t, I would always regret it. This was my dream, to do an album cover for one of the biggest bands around. Aiden wasn’t kidding when he said it could launch my career.

  I kissed him again before grabbing my bag and hauling it onto my shoulder.

  “Take care of him.” I elbowed Carl with a smirk. “He’s ticklish on his sides.”

  “You’re leaving right now?” Chris growled.

  I waved over my shoulder, blowing him a kiss. He pretended to be annoyed, but humor skipped around in his eyes.

  I took a few steps and said to Carl, “Oh, and the
most important rule of all, no matter how much he cries, no matter how much he begs, never, ever feed him after midnight.”

  “Girl, I can’t even right now.” Tristen bounced on his toes next to me, trying to contain his excitement. “I am so glad you came.”

  “You have a vomit bucket back there, right?” I pressed my hand into my stomach, nervous energy rolling my stomach and head like a carnival ride.

  “That’s what your bag is for.” Tristen bumped my arm, a grin on his face. “You’re gonna do amazing.”

  I absently nodded, staring at the closed door down the hall. One of the most famous bands in the world sat behind the door waiting to meet me. I had gotten back to New York the night before and called Tristen from the airport, letting him know I’d be at the meeting. The band had a very limited time to see me between their sold out shows and endless interviews.

  “You ready?” Tristen nudged me again.

  “No,” I whimpered. I had met my share of musicians in my day, as my parents dragged me to all sorts of concerts and shows. But nothing this big. These guys were the hottest ticket right now. Sold out stadiums, multiple awards, every song making the Billboard charts. They were so cool it was intimidating. And I’d read they didn’t take bullshit from anyone. Aiden had made it clear they would be brutal and to the point if something wasn’t working. They understood their power right now and wouldn’t settle for anything but perfection in their “blasé-grungy-rocker” trademark.

  “You got this.” Tristen clutched my arm, squeezing it. “Just show them the Stevie I know, and they will love you. Your talent speaks for itself.”

  I looked at Tristen, my tense frame buzzing with his warm fuzzies. Tristen stared at me, his brows wrinkling.

  “What?” I patted at my off-the-shoulder rocker shirt, peering down at my tight leather pants and black heeled booties. My hair was loose and wavy. I looked the part of a rocker chick.

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head, a small smile hinting on his mouth. “Something’s different about you. You seem softer.”

  I jerked, my spine going rigid.

  “That’s a good thing.” He reached for my hands, holding them, chuckling at my reaction. “Like all the bullshit has dropped away, and it’s just you for once. The girl I absolutely adore. It actually makes you more confident and stronger.”