Reclaimed

by Vicki Green

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Reclaimed

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  Epilogue

  Reclaimed

  by Vicki Green

  Reclaimed

  Amazon Edition

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Vicki Green Copyright 2016©

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form with authorization of the Author Vicki Green©

  Editor: Kathy Krick:

  https://www.facebook.com/K2Editing

  Kari Ayasha - Cover Design by Cover to Cover Designs:

  https://www.facebook.com/CoverToCoverDesigns

  Formatting:

  http://e-and-f.webs.com/

  Featured on the cover –

  Assad Shalhoub:

  https://www.facebook.com/AssadShalhoubModelingAndFitness/

  and

  Riley Ferguson

  Photography by –

  Eric Battershell Photography/FITography

  https://www.facebook.com/ericbattershellphotography/

  Dedication

  On August 1, 2004, I lost my Dad to Dementia. I’m blessed that he went through the worse of it for only five months. Of course it started earlier than that however we weren’t familiar with the signs until they became more evident.

  Any horrible disease or illness, I believe, is almost harder on the loved ones than that of the patient. We sat, we watched, we tried to give him whatever we could until the day he gave up and shut down.

  To watch anyone go through this is heartbreaking. For me – my Dad was a very proud man, organized, meticulous, and had a hard time sitting around idle. He was always very active whether it was planting flowers, mowing the yard, or doing paperwork.

  He missed a house payment. His hair hadn’t been combed. He wouldn’t take a shower. For a doctor’s appointment, he wouldn’t get up out of a chair to go. We had no idea, at that time, what was going on and what was to come.

  I had support, not only my loving husband and two boys, who were small at that time, but my sister, my two nieces, and their families. This story only depicts what I went through, my emotions and struggles. I would never speak from their perspective as it is a very personal thing.

  I dedicate this book to my Dad with love. I miss you so much!

  Reclaimed

  Mysterious with a bad-boy exterior--he could destroy her in the blink of an eye.

  Devoted to the sick and hurt, Saige Benton must return home to help her father, turning her life upside down.

  But when Dax Stevens enters her world, everything changes rapidly.

  For Saige, life will never be the same, again.

  **Warning!** This isn’t your average romance story. Some of the content may touch your heart and tug at your emotions really hard as you may have experienced things in this nature in your life or something similar. You’ve been warned!

  **This book is intended for 18+ readers

  1

  You know that feeling? The one you get when you wake up and just know something bad is gonna happen? Yeah, I got that this morning, nagging at the back of my mind. Turns out, that feeling was right. I did my normal routine, worked out at the gym, got all my papers in order, cleaned my apartment, and packed my bag. Everything was going fine. All I had to do was keep my wits tonight and this job would be done. Of course, it all happened so quickly that I didn’t get a chance to say my goodbyes or prayers or what anyone would normally do when this happens. My mom will be distraught. My kid sister will be devastated. She worships the ground I walk on. All I could think was – I’m too young. I haven’t gotten to experience all I wanted to yet, do everything I want to, fall in love or become who I was supposed to be.

  The first bullet lodges in my side, almost taking me down to my knees. I managed to fall against the wall, shooting several times in the process. The second bullet whizzes by, slicing across my left cheek. I spin my arm around and hit the asshole between the eyes. One down. Two to go. Adrenaline purges through me. Anger kept me standing as I aim back in the direction of the other prick. The one who shot me in the gut. The muffled sounds of sirens are heard, but from where I am, it’s hard to tell the distance. The prick looks up towards the ceiling in fear. He should be afraid. He’s about to meet his maker. Then he does something I don’t expect. He charges out of the corner, the guns he’s gripping in both hands start spraying rounds past me and into the wall beside me.

  “Come on, motherfucker! Time for you to die,” he shouts as he draws near.

  I take a few breaths, wincing from the pain in my stomach, and step away from the wall aiming right at his heart.

  “You first. You fucking piece of shit,” I growl.

  Aiming my gun, I pull the trigger, hitting him right in the heart. Two down, one to go.

  At this exact moment, I knew the feeling I had this morning was coming true. The last target had not made an appearance yet – until now. Out of the shadows, the swooshing sounds of bullets whiz around me. I shoot back multiple times as bullets hit me, simultaneously. The other side of my stomach. My shoulder. My leg. And I go down like a sack of lead. The smell of rust, sewage, dankness, and death surrounds me, gasping for air, imagining I hear sirens. My eyes are too heavy. Numbness replaces the adrenaline I felt earlier. I shiver, coldness filling my veins. Instantly, I’d imagined I’d see my life pass before my eyes, like I’ve heard happens. Instead, strange thoughts begin to filter through my mind.

  Chocolate chip ice cream.

  Little Bit’s face.

  M&Ms.

  A dark form runs down the chilly corridor and out through the passageway. The last asshole got away. Dammit! My eyes draw closed on their own.

  That strange teacher I had for biology in the eighth grade.

  I shiver again and cough.

  Christmas morning when I was twelve. I got the guitar I’d always wanted.

  “I’m here, buddy.”

  Doug. It was my fault he got here too late. I was too anxious. Knew this could happen. Knew it was a big risk. I hate that Mom will be so upset. Little Bit will be crushed.

  A woman appears. Dark black hair. Long. Her eyes the color of dark honey, shadowed by thick black lashes.

  “Over here! Hurry!”

  She looks at me, her beautiful pink tinted lips part. She beckons me with only a look – an unspoken word.

  “Dammit, Dax. What the fuck, man? Why didn’t you wait? I was almost down here.”

  The heavens open, rain begins to fall. She raises her hand, still staring at me with those god damned seductive eyes, and crooks her finger for me to go to her.

  “He’s here. Hurry the fuck up!”

  I’m mesmerized and start walking towards her. The rain is pouring now, her long silky hair darkened by wetness, her creamy skin shimmering by some strange light around her.

  “He’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get him out of here now!”

  My body feels light, tousled, as I continue towards
her. Her lips turn up slightly as I draw near. My jeans are plastered to my legs, and I look down to find I’m shirtless. I look before me and notice she’s barefoot. When I look up, I’m only a few feet away from her. The black dress she’s wearing fits like a glove, and I can see every curve perfectly. She’s exquisite. Suddenly, she takes a final step and leaps into my arms. I grasp her right thigh and wrap my free arm around her as her legs hug my waist. She’s light in my arms.

  “Get the IV set up. Stat!”

  Her scent is intoxicating, drawing me to her even more. She’s everything I’ve always wanted. Dreamed of. I lean in as she tilts her head back, exposing her long slender neck. I kiss the base of her throat, rubbing my nose against her delicate skin. “Who are you?” The rain starts hitting harder. She raises her head and looks into my eyes, a small smile plays on her lips.

  “We’re losing him!”

  Suddenly, she pushes off me, my arms falling to my side, and she starts walking backwards, slowly. “Wait!” It becomes difficult to see her through the downpour. “Don’t go!” I can’t seem to move, frozen in my spot, as darkness envelopes her. As quickly as she’s gone, a bright light shines directly in my eyes, blinding me. Placing my hand over my eyes, I try to find her.

  “Dax. Come find me.”

  She calls to me but I still can’t see her or move. Dammit, I want to go to her!

  Suddenly, everything goes dark and cold. I can’t feel my body. Why now? After all this time, why did this have to happen when I’ve finally seen the woman of my dreams?

  “Stand back! AFIB!”

  2

  Okay, seems like most days aren’t wine and roses. At least in my life. I’ve struggled for everything I’ve wanted to do and everything I have. I haven’t minded it. Much. Growing up, my family wasn’t rich monetarily, but we had enough that we didn’t want for much. What we did have was laughter, closeness, and more love than money could buy. That was until that horrible day that took Mom and my little brother Bobby’s lives. Mom was driving Bobby home from his baseball practice. Witnesses reported later that her light was green, but as she proceeded through the intersection, a car ran their red light in the opposite direction and rammed into them followed by the cars behind her. They weren’t the only people who died that day.

  “Saige! Are you listening to me?”

  Brooklyn.

  Brooke has been my best friend since before I was old enough to know what one was. We were in kindergarten through senior year of high school together then on to college and onward to nursing school. Both of us even got jobs at Memorial Hospital and work most of the same shifts in ICU. She grew up down the road from us and her parents and mine were best friends, just like us. Her mom kinda became the replacement for mine after the accident. She couldn’t really and she knew that. Still when I needed a Mom’s advice, she was always there. Which was a good thing because Dad couldn’t even look at me when I started my period for the first time. Oh, but he could buy the products I needed at the grocery store. That didn’t bother him since he used to do it for Mom sometimes. But, who buys their thirteen year old daughter extra, extra large tampons for their first ever period? Needless to say, Brooke’s Mom ran over a box of maxi pads pretty quickly along with a heating pad and aspirin. She stayed with me and explained everything I needed to know and even sat with me as I laid down with the heating pad over my stomach.

  “Saige! Oh. My. God!”

  “I’m here.” I’m holding the phone away from my ear because I think she might have just busted my eardrum. “You don’t have to scream. I’m right here.” I roll my eyes, something I inherited from her at an early age.

  “Well, you’re not paying attention to anything I’m saying.” She’s right, of course. I’m in the tub with my leg up on the side, paying particular attention to shaving the very short hairs on it. In my profession, you have to make sure you are kept very clean and shaved. Always. There’s always groping hands around and some aren’t even from the weirdo patients. I place the phone back against my ear, holding it against my shoulder to free my hand. “Anyway… Are you going to come out with me tomorrow night? Your who-ha hasn’t been touched in so long that it’s most likely shriveling up as we speak.” I let out a snort and nick myself in the process. Reaching out, I tear off a small piece of toilet paper from the roll and place it on the small cut. “I mean it, Saige. The next guy to fuck you is gonna think you’re a virgin when he tries to push his dick through the barrier. It’s probably fused itself shut again after this long.”

  Carefully, I run the razor around my small wound. “Dramatic much?”

  Holding my breath, I wait for the next round. “Aww, c’mon, Saige. You never go out and I really, really want to spend time with my bestie,” she whines, piercing my ear. And there it is.

  The pleading.

  My phone beeps at the perfect time. I grab it and look at the screen, smile then quickly tell Brooke, “Okay but I’m not staying out late. I have a twelve hour shift starting at noon on Saturday and just so you know, I’m on call tomorrow night. Gotta go. Dad’s calling.” Again I have to hold it away from my ear as she squeals loudly. Maybe I should get my hearing checked after this. I switch over to Dad quickly.

  “Hi, Dad!”

  “Hi, pumpkin.” My smile grows along with my heart. It wasn’t easy for me or Dad to get through the loss of my mom and Bobby. We both were in shock, barely talked for over two months. Then, one day, I fell at the park and came home with a scraped up knee – crying. I think it finally took that for us both to realize that we were still alive and we had each other. He picked me up, set me on the kitchen counter and talked the whole time he cleaned the scrapes and put a Band-Aid on it. Afterwards, he wiped away my tears, looked me in the eyes, and threw his arms around me. We hugged for a really, really long time, never wanting to let go. After that, we were closer than we ever were before. We’d finally realized, we were all we had.

  “I really wish we could FaceTime or Skype, Dad. I miss seeing your handsome face.”

  I feel his sigh before I hear it but then he laughs. “You know technology and I do not mix.” This I do know. I got him a computer for Christmas a couple of years back. It’s still sitting in his office at home – untouched. “Now, more importantly – when are you coming for a visit? It’s been too long.” Right, again. I seem to never have the time.

  “Soon, Dad. I promise.”

  We talk while I shave my other leg and then with promises of talking again soon, we hang up. I miss him so much it hurts.

  I get dried and into my scrubs, brush my teeth, pull my long hair up into a high ponytail, grab my keys, and head to work.

  It’s another night of monitoring the sick, washing bed pans, giving pain meds, and one code blue emergency. Then of course there’s the occasional butt grabbing from a patient you’d think wouldn’t feel up to that, being in ICU. “Now, Mr. Dorsey. What have I told you about keeping your hands to yourself?” I ask with an eye roll as I push the needle filled with pain relief into his IV. With any luck, he’ll be out cold in a few minutes.

  “I ain’t dead yet, missy.”

  I look down at him and smirk. “No, you’re not, thank goodness, but I’m sure Mrs. Dorsey wouldn’t be very happy with your handsy ways.”

  His brows furrow as he frowns.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Dorsey,” I sing-song as I walk out of his room.

  I let out a long breath as I walk to the nurse’s station, rounding the corner and sitting down in front of the monitors. I check each room’s monitor and open up the file on the computer next to it, filling out all the updates I have from my rounds on each patient.

  “Dorsey again?”

  I look up and see Pam leaning her elbows on the counter in front of me. “Yeah. No wonder he had a heart attack and then ripped open his side when he fell. He’s way overweight and a dirty old man to boot.”

  She laughs. “Tell me. I have a bruise on my left butt cheek from his grabby hands.” Her arm moves down, and I can tell s
he’s rubbing it. She places her chin on her hand, her elbow on the counter, and smiles. “So…”

  I tilt my head at her. “So?”

  “Are you going out with us tomorrow night?”

  Dammit!

  I let out a sigh. “I told Brooke I would but…”

  “But nothing, girl. You better. You know she’ll only drive you crazy. Besides…” She stands and places her hand on her hip. “It won’t hurt you to go out once. I mean – when was the last time you went out?” I look up at the ceiling, trying to remember. I got nothing. “Exactly. You’re way overdue, woman.” I look at her, giving her a sad smile. I know she’s right. Shit, when was the last time I had sex? Crap. I can’t remember that either. “See you tomorrow night.” She smiles as she walks away.

  The night is long – longer than normal. I think anxiety has built from thinking about going out tomorrow night. I’m not totally opposed to it, I guess. I just hate the meeting someone new, not knowing anything about them. Some think that’s a thrill, an adrenaline rush of sorts. Me? I just think it’s a headache. Since I left high school, I’ve prided myself on being the avid student, the one who excelled in everything needed in order to complete college and then nursing school. Brooke and I had the dream of becoming nurses since we were little. I’ve been known to give everything my all, whether it be working out, studying, being a nurse – anything and everything I do. My drive has kept me going, and unfortunately it left no room for a social life. Oh, I’ve been out on dates – a few. A very few. I even had a kind of boyfriend in college, for all of a week. Sigh. It’s not that I don’t like guys and hell, I love sex, but not one guy I’ve come in contact with gave me that spark, that hint of wanting to know them better. Not one gave me those butterflies or any kind of sign that I would long or ache to be with them.