The Billionaire Bad Boy Plan

by Michelle Love

  Oh God…

  ‘Put him through. Cal? What the hell…’

  ‘Isa’s had an accident,’ Cal choked out. ‘She was feeling sick, had some stomach pains. She was in the shower, and I went to call the doctor. She fell, hit her head…’

  Sam felt a sledgehammer had hit his gut.

  ‘Cal… what the… where is she? Is she…?’

  His brother was sobbing now. ‘We’re at the UW Medical Center. ‘Isa’s in intensive care. She has serious head injuries. God, Sam, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you left her in my care and I…’ He couldn’t go on.

  Sam couldn’t breathe for a second. ‘Cal… it’s okay, calm down. Tell me what the doctors said.’ He was throwing his things into his overnight bag as he listened, with growing horror to what his brother told him. Please, Isa, no…

  ‘They say…Sam… I don’t know. I don’t know. She hasn’t woken up yet; they can’t wake her up.’

  So many, many staircases.

  It seemed to Sam, at that moment, that they had been put there to torment him, as if he needed further torment. Y’all can’t use the elevator, they’re out, someone had screeched from behind the hospital reception and Sam took off, taking the stairs three at a time.

  Isa. Oh God, Isa.

  Finally, he reached the intensive care unit. He saw Cal talking to a nurse and shouted his name. Cal turned and walked quickly to them. His face was hard, strained.

  ‘Sam.’

  ‘Where is she?’

  ‘They’ve taken her down for a scan.’

  ‘Is she awake, is she talking?’

  Cal shook his head.

  ‘Jesus, oh, Jesus.’ This time, Sam’s legs did betray him, and Cal grabbed him and pushed him into a seat. Sam put in his head in his hands, briefly and then looked up.

  ‘Tell me everything.’

  Cal sat down beside him, his shoulders slumping and Sam could see the great strain on his face.

  ‘She was sick, really sick. We were at the Sacred Heart, and she tried to hide it, but Seb and I could see she was in pain. Her stomach kept cramping, really bad like she was bent double when they hit.’ He sighed. ‘I took her back to her apartment, and she went to bed. I stayed on the couch. About three a.m., she got sick again. I persuaded her to call a doctor, which is what I did while she took a shower. She must have fainted because I heard a crash.’ Sam watched as his brother’s face paled recalling the accident. ‘I went in when she wouldn’t answer and found her. She’d hit her head on the sink, was bleeding pretty bad. I couldn’t wake her. That’s when I got Zoe, and we called 911.’

  Sam looked around. ‘Where is Zoe?’

  ‘Talking to the doctor.’

  They both looked up as Zoe turned the corner and came towards them. Sam’s heart began to thud, and his blood froze when he saw the stricken expression on her face.

  ‘Zoe…’

  Zoe hugged him fiercely. ‘It’s okay, Sam, she’s going to be okay.’ She sat down with him. ‘I need to talk to you.’ She cast a meaningful look at Cal, who nodded and melted away. Zoe took Sam’s hand.

  ‘Sam… Isa’s started to come around. She’s had a CT scan, and there’s no brain bleed or anything to worry about. The doctor thinks she’s just got a bad concussion.’

  Sam felt relief sweep through him, but he could tell Zoe wasn’t finished and was struggling with how to tell him what she knew.

  ‘Whatever it is, Zo, just tell me. I can’t bear not knowing.’

  Zoe drew in a deep breath, looked at him with worry in her eyes. ‘Sam… they found out what was making Isa so ill. It’s an ectopic pregnancy, Sam. Isa’s pregnant.’

  Sam rocked back, ran his hand through his hair, tried desperately to keep control of his emotions. ‘Did she know?’

  Zoe shook her head. ‘No. They’ve taken her to surgery now, and I’m sorry but…’

  ‘I know. I know, Zoe, you don’t have to say it. The fetus isn’t going to make it.’

  Zoe winced at his terminology, but to Sam, it was necessary to try and detach his emotions so he wouldn’t scream. His baby. Their baby. He dropped his head into his hands for a brief second.

  ‘How did she take it? Isa, I mean, what was her reaction when they told her?’

  Zoe tried to smile. ‘Pretty much the same as yours. Shock. Sorrow.’ She put her arms around his shoulders. ‘They’ll come and tell us when she’s out of surgery.’

  Slowly, too slowly, the light began to creep in under her eyelids. She’d been able to hear them since yesterday, talking about her. Talking about conditions and injuries and ‘letting her brain heal itself.’ Voices she didn’t know. And those she did.

  Sam. He sounded upset, and she wanted to hold him and tell him everything was okay.

  But she couldn’t open her eyes. Where was she? She felt like she was having to work twice as hard to make sense of anything.

  The only thing she was sure of was that she hurt. This morning she’d been able to feel her hands, at last, move the fingers. Her skin felt odd, too dry, and too smooth. She rubbed her fingers against each other. The Voices had liked that, lot of back slapping, reassurance, and tears. She felt someone else’s fingers wind through hers and she knew that skin. Knew it.

  Sam. She felt his tears against her cheek, his kiss.

  The light was getting brighter – with much effort, she pulled her eyes open. Sticky, gluey. She blinked. For a second she watched the dust particles float around the wash of tears that swept across the surface. She concentrated on focusing past them, to the ceiling.

  She sighed.

  A chair scraping back. ‘Sweetheart?’

  His voice made warmth flood through her frozen body, made her limbs soften and spread. ‘Sam?’

  He leaned over and finally, she could see his handsome face, deep lines etched in his forehead, dark shadows under his eyes. She cupped his cheek in her palm.

  ‘Hey, you.’

  His lips against hers were gentle at first then, as tears began to pour down her face, they grew rougher, almost desperate, trying to erase the sadness. But the pounding grief within her couldn’t be tamped down, and as she began to sob in earnest, Sam gathered her into his arms and held her as she cried for their lost child.

  ‘How long have I been out?’

  One of the nurses had bought them both coffee and sandwiches. Isa picked unenthusiastically at the food, her whole body dropping with fatigue and sadness. Sam had no appetite either, and eventually, he pushed the table away from the bed, moving so he could hold her. She rested her head against his chest, her arm slipping around his waist.

  ‘Only a day or so.’

  From the earlier tears, now Isa had mostly fallen silent, lost in introspection. Sam stroked her hair. His own feelings were in turmoil, so much so he just wanted to block everything out and hold her.

  He felt her body relax, her breathing became even and knew she’d fallen asleep. There was a soft knock at the door, and Cal stuck his head in the door. Sam slipped carefully from the bed; Isa didn’t even stir.

  ‘How’s she doing?’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Hard to say. She’s too tired to take it all in, I think.’

  Cal studied his older half-brother. ‘And what about you?’

  Sam tried to smile. ‘Cal, I have no idea, it’s all been too… hell, a couple of months ago, I was single, working my ass off and now I’ve met the love of my life, who some asshole wants to murder, and we’re mourning the loss of the child that neither of us knew we wanted or in fact, had even discussed having.’

  Cal considered. ‘Well…I’d say that was a full schedule.’ He risked a smile at Sam, who returned it ruefully.

  ‘Yep. Look, let’s go find some decent coffee. Isa will be out for hours; she’s wiped out.’

  It was eerily quiet in the hospital at night. She’d woken a little while ago, but stayed still, listening to the alien sounds. The beeping of machines, hushed whispers of the night staff, occasional moans from the other rooms on the floor. Facing
her, asleep in a chair, Sam looked exhausted and, she thought, tormented. A gnawing feeling of guilt started in her stomach. She hated to see him distressed like this. Stupid, stupid women, she berated herself. How the hell hadn’t she guessed she was pregnant? It explained the mood swings, the appetite, the sickness. She had an IUD; she’d never even considered she could be pregnant. Stop it. She didn’t want to think about it anymore, didn’t want to feel that pain.

  She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stretched, enjoying the feel of her limbs working. Sam was dead to the world; his head leaned against the wall. She looked around, grabbed a blanket and covered him, kissing his forehead.

  There were no nurses around in the gynecological wing. Isa peered into each room. At the far end, there was a light on. She headed towards it, stepped into the room…

  …and everything went cold. The light was blue, freezing. The bed had a curtain around it, but she peaked inside and saw him. Him. His face was obscured, by what she couldn’t tell, suddenly her vision was hazy, blurry. But she knew, without a doubt, he had come to kill her. He raised the knife and the blue light glinted off of it.

  ‘Time to die, little girl.’

  Isa backed off, turned and ran. She could hear his footsteps behind her, pursuing, hunting. In her panic she turned the wrong way into a labyrinth of corridors, she didn’t recognize. She skidded along the polished floors, trying each door, desperate for a hiding place. She almost cried out with relief when the last door opened. She darted into a room, surgical equipment and supplies. She crouched down behind a laundry bin, her breathing shaky. If he cornered her in here, alone, unprotected and unobserved, he’d kill her. She reached up and grabbed a scalpel from the shelf. Then she heard him call her name.

  ‘Isa? It’s okay. It’s only me. Don’t be afraid, Isa. I love you.’

  And as if she couldn’t control herself, she stood. It was the love in his voice that made her do it, made her drift towards him, let him kiss her softly before his knife tore into her again… again…

  She screamed then there were hands on her. Sheer terror. She panicked, fighting with whoever it was, screaming, incoherent, and desperate. She bucked and twisted, frantic to get away.

  ‘Isa, baby it’s me, it’s me, it’s okay, you were dreaming, it’s okay.’

  Something got through. She knew that voice. She stopped struggling. His arms were around her, not stabbing, not killing but calming, protecting. Love.

  ‘Sam?’ Her voice was a rough whisper.

  ‘Baby, it’s me. I’ve got you, it’s okay, you’re safe, you’re safe.’

  Isa shoved her pajamas into her hold all, casting hopeful glances at the door. Sam was sitting, relaxed, grinning at her.

  ‘I think you think you can wish yourself out of this place. He might say no.’

  She stuck her tongue out at him. ‘You’ll jinx me. Shut up.’ She was already dressed, her normal uniform, t-shirt, jeans, sneakers. Despite her cuts and bruises, she looked like his Isa again. She smiled at him.

  ‘Think of it this way,’ she went over to him and straddled him. ‘The quicker the doc says I’m healing, the quicker I get out of here…’ She leaned in and kissed him. ‘And the quicker you get some, soldier.’

  His answering laugh was filthy, and she danced away from his arms. ‘Tease.’ She grinned and went into the bathroom to grab her wash-bag. When she came back, she saw his face had changed. He stared out of the window.

  ‘Sam?’ He looked at her and smiled, but she could see something in his eyes. ‘What is it?’

  He held his arms out, and she went into them, perching on his lap. ‘What?’

  He sighed. ‘Darlin’, I can’t know what’s going on your head, since the… But there’s no rush. I’m probably saying all the wrong things, but I can wait. Until, y’know, you are ready. However, long. And that’s not to say I don’t want you, I do...’ he grinned, ‘I really, really do. But you and I, it’s always been more than just sex. And we need to talk, properly about what’s happening between us. We need to have that talk.’

  She crushed her mouth against his, hard, longingly and he could feel her tears on his cheeks.

  ‘I can’t even tell you…’ She broke down, and he tightened his grip.

  ‘No need for words. Not yet anyway.’

  She smiled at him, nodded. ‘Just thank you.’ She kissed him again. He grinned.

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘Knock, knock.'

  The doctor came in, Isa’s charts in his hand.

  ‘How are you today, Isabel?’

  ‘Very, very good.’ She looked at him hopefully. Sam grinned.

  The doctor smiled at her. ‘Okay, I’m releasing you.’

  Isa cheered, and the doctor laughed. ‘On the condition that you take it easy for a few days.’

  Isa rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah yeah.’

  ‘Oh, she will.’ Sam was firm. ‘Thanks for everything, Doc.’

  The doctor stood up to go. ‘For now, I’m going to reduce the dosage on your anti-depressants, just while you recover from the concussion.’

  Isa frowned. ‘I’m not taking antidepressants.’

  Dr. Field stopped, confused. ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I’m not taking anti-depressants.’

  Sam and the doctor looked at each other.

  ‘Honey, they found them in your blood… I think it was…’ Sam raised his eyebrows at the doctor.

  ‘Effexor. A substantial dose.’

  ‘I swear; I haven’t been taking any.’ Isa was getting a little irritated.

  ‘Have you ever?’

  ‘Have I ever what?’

  ‘Been prescribed anti-depressants?’

  ‘No, never.’ She felt Sam’s hand tighten on hers. She squeezed back to reassure him. ‘You say there was this drug, in my bloodstream?’

  The doctor nodded. ‘We just assumed, because of what Mr. Levy said you had been going through lately.’

  Isa chewed her lip. ‘Doctor, would this drug… I mean, would it have any side effects? I mean, tiredness, forgetfulness?’

  ‘Has that been happening to you?’

  She nodded. ‘How easy it is to get hold of it without a prescription?’

  The doctor smiled uneasily. ‘I’m sure it’s available through less than reputable sources, why?’

  ‘How easy would it be to drug somebody without their knowledge?’

  Sam made a disgusted noise. ‘Fuck.’

  The doctor looked between them, worried. ‘Easily. I hope to hell that isn’t what happened.’

  Sam stood up, his temper flaring. He walked over to the window, and Isa could see the tension rolling off him. She turned to the doctor.

  ‘I’m afraid that is what must have happened.’ She looked at Sam’s back, seeing how the muscles were bunched up in anger. ‘To put it bluntly, doctor, someone has been threatening to kill me. He’s broken into my home; god knows what else he’s done. This must have been him.’

  ‘But why?’

  Isa smiled, exhausted. ‘I really don’t know.’ She sighed but held out her hand to the doctor and shook his. ‘Thanks for everything, really, I mean it.’

  In the car on the way home, she put her hand on Sam’s thigh as he drove. He smiled at her.

  ‘You okay, baby?’

  ‘Wiped out, same as you.’

  He slid his free hand over her belly. ‘Are you sore?’

  ‘Not so much,’ she entwined her fingers with his, ‘the doctor gave me some painkillers.’

  Sam grinned over at her. ‘You got the good shit, huh?’

  She laughed and the sound of it eased the tightness which had seemed to have settled permanently in his chest.

  ‘Hey,’ he said now, running his finger down her cheek, ‘when you’re better, I’m taking you away. A client of mine has an island – ‘

  ‘Show off.’

  He grinned but continued undeterred. ‘You’ll be mad, but I’ve already talked to Sandy. Yes, I know…’ She made a fa
ce at him.

  ‘Sam, I’m never there as it is! It’s not fair to Sandy, to the college… oh, what’s the point?’ She slumped back in the seat, all fight gone from her. Sam glanced over at her still, frozen face.

  ‘You mad?’

  She was quiet for a time then gave him a little smile. ‘I guess not. If I'm honest, the idea of going far, far away from here at the moment sounds like heaven.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘As long as you’re there with me.’

  ‘Every second. We both could do with a break.’

  Sandy came to see her a few days later, and as they sat on her couch, she thought he looked different. She couldn’t place what it was until he was talking about his recent successful funding application.

  ‘Sandy… is that a new suit?’

  Sandy, his kind face beaming, nodded. ‘Glad you noticed.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I’ve been influenced by your boyfriend. How does a man look like that? All the time, too.’

  Isa smothered a smile. ‘Makes the rest of us look bad, huh?’

  Sandy rolled his eyes. ‘I’d thought I’d make an effort for once – not competing, honestly, because let’s face it, I’d lose.’ His words were said with a smile. Isa leaned over to hug him.

  ‘I wouldn’t change you for the world. Now, listen, I know Sam’s spoken with you…’

  ‘About the sabbatical? Yes, I told him it’s no problem. We’re at the end of the research cycle anyway. We can start again in the spring as he suggested.’

  Isa was floored. A sabbatical? What happened to the two-week vacation? A sabbatical until the Spring? She looked out of the window at the gray winter clouds scuttling over the island and sighed. She had no doubt that Sam must have made a substantial ‘donation’ to make this happen; Sandy would never have let her take months off otherwise, nor should he.

  But she just didn’t have it in her to fight this, however much her feminist sensibilities argued with her. For once, she would let Sam win. For once she would let him take care of her.