Bleeding Hearts: The Complete Duet

by A. Zavarelli

  “Shwhat are you doooing?” she slurred.

  I brushed the hair away from her face and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

  She batted the phone out of my hand with surprising speed as her eyes flared with panic. “No. No hospitals!”

  She tried to sit up but ended up slumping back against the bed as she shook her head frantically.

  “No hospitals!”

  She was becoming hysterical, and I didn’t know what to do.

  “Okay,” I relented. “No hospitals, Nicole. But I’m calling Matt.”

  “Matt?” she blinked.

  His name calmed her, so I repeated it again as I reached for my phone.

  “Yes, see?” I showed her his contact. “Matt. I’m going to call him, okay?”

  She nodded and wrapped her arms around her knees, looking very much like a small, fragile child. And I hated myself for not seeing it before. For not seeing how vulnerable she really was. I’d completely underestimated what she was capable of dealing with.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I said again, edging towards her slowly as I dialed Matt’s number. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  ***

  Matt’s pounding on the door sent Nicole into another bout of hysteria, and I cringed as I ran to open it.

  “Where is she?” he asked, his eyes wild as he looked around the room.

  “She’s in the bedroom.”

  He tried to bolt to her, but I grabbed him by the arm.

  “Matt, she’s… she’s seriously traumatized. I think she’s having some kind of breakdown, but she won’t go to the hospital.”

  His shoulders fell, and he nodded as though he understood.

  “It’s okay,” he explained. “I’ve seen her like this before. I know how to help her.”

  “You do?” I felt like the world’s shittiest friend. How come he had all the answers, and I didn’t.

  He strode to the room without answering and cradled Nicole against his chest. He rocked her in his arms, whispering soothing things into her ear while he rubbed her back.

  The tension dissipated from her body, and suddenly I understood. It wasn’t about having the right answers. It was about being the right person. Nicole needed Matt because she loved him whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  There was a hollow pain in my own chest at the sudden epiphany. Ryland needed comfort too whether he wanted to admit or not. His pain was four-fold what Nicole was going through, but he’d never let on to it. He’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of me. He took his pain and twisted it into anger, and it was the only thing holding him together.

  Would he ever accept my help, even if I were to offer it?

  Matt understood my unspoken question as he looked into my eyes with a solemn expression.

  “It isn’t your fault,” he said. “You can only help those who want to be helped, Brighton.”

  A solitary tear slid down my cheek as I jerked my chin in agreement.

  “You’ll take care of her?” I croaked.

  “Always,” he replied.

  ***

  The sound of Ryland’s angry voice carried down the hallway, and I ran towards his door with what little energy I had left.

  Three nurses and a doctor surrounded his bed, threatening him with a needle as he tried to claw the blankets off.

  “Ryland?”

  My voice made him pause, and his face filled with relief as he sank back against the pillow.

  “Brighton.”

  He breathed my name as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

  I drew towards him slowly and clasped his face in my hands, trying to smooth away the worry in his eyes.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  The doctor huffed and gave the nurses a curt nod as they backed away from him.

  “He said he was coming to find you,” the doctor replied.

  Ryland’s helpless expression dissipated as I stroked his hair and gave him a weak smile.

  “I didn’t know where you were.” He tried to justify.

  “He says he wants to be discharged,” the doctor spoke again. “Although I would highly recommend against it.”

  “Ryland, you can’t.”

  This had to be difficult for him, being out of control. I could see the same fear in his eyes he had whenever I was late, or he thought something had happened to me. What most people would say was completely irrational seemed like the most rational thing in the world to him. He’d lost everyone he’d ever loved.

  “I’m not staying here,” he growled. “I fucking hate hospitals. And I can recover at home just as well.”

  “They won’t let you go,” I argued. “You can’t just walk out of here.”

  “Actually, he can.” The doctor sighed. “If he signs a waiver, unfortunately, there’s nothing else we can do to keep him.”

  The doctor looked at me as though I had some sort of power to sway his decision. He obviously didn’t know Ryland Bennett.

  “Stay a couple more days,” I pleaded. “I’m not going to leave your side, I promise.”

  “No, Brighton. You weren’t here this morning.”

  I ignored the harshness of his tone as I desperately sought a way to fix this.

  “I’ll leave if you discharge yourself,” I threatened.

  “No, you won’t.” He called my bluff.

  The doctor looked at us like we were both crazy before shaking his head.

  “What if he hired a nurse?” I asked.

  “He really should be here, Miss. Valentine, it’s the best place for him.”

  “I’m not staying,” Ryland grated.

  The doctor sighed and gestured to one of the nurses as he walked out of the room. “Very well, Mr. Bennett. I’ll prepare to have you discharged from our care.”

  ***

  “Where are you going?” I asked the nurse as she moved towards the front door.

  “He told me I’m no longer needed.” She crossed her arms indignantly. “I don’t know why you even bothered wasting my time.”

  I noticed the fat stack of cash in her hand and thought it couldn’t have inconvenienced her too much.

  “Look, you can’t leave,” I begged.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but he’s the patient, and he’s refusing my care. There’s nothing more I can do.”

  I nearly toppled over from exhaustion as I stared at the list of everything I still had to do. Ryland needed groceries, and I still had to clean the kitchen since I hadn’t had the foresight to organize someone else.

  The nurse clearly saw my frustration and took pity on me.

  “I’ll tell you what you need to do,” she gentled her tone. “If that will help.”

  “Please,” I encouraged, collapsing onto the barstool.

  “You’ll need to change the bandages daily,” she explained, pulling supplies from her bag and setting them on the counter.

  She demonstrated how to do it in slow and simple steps and explained what I needed to look out for as far as signs of infection went.

  I felt better with the information, but my chest still tightened as she walked towards the door.

  “Thank you,” I blurted.

  She gave me a gentle smile and shook her head. “Don’t forget to take care of yourself too, Miss Valentine.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I walked into Ryland’s bedroom to find him tapping away at his phone as if he hadn’t just been stabbed two days before. What little display of vulnerability I’d seen in the hospital was no longer there as he conducted business as usual.

  The only way I could even tell he wasn’t himself was by the few pieces of hair sticking every which way on his head. That and the fact he had his shirt on inside out. He didn’t even seem to notice, which was very unlike him.

  When he heard my sigh, he looked up at me, his features softening a fraction before they hardened again. He was still pissed at me for not being at the hospital this
morning, and I hadn’t even had the energy to explain why yet. I did call and check in with Matt, though, who reported that Nicole was safe and sound at his apartment. He said she would stay there until all of this blew over. It was the only good news I’d heard all day.

  “You don’t have to stay.” Ryland kept his eyes glued to his screen. “If you have better things to do.”

  I wanted to take his phone and throw it at the wall.

  “Don’t,” I snapped, my voice wavering already.

  He blinked up at me in confusion. “Brighton…”

  “No.” The dam burst and I didn’t even care. “Don’t you Brighton me. You didn’t even think to ask why I was late this morning. And I didn’t want to upset you, it’s the only reason I didn’t tell you before.”

  “Tell me what?” his voice gentled as he patted the bed beside him. “Come here.”

  I remained where I was, blinking away the tears. God, I was sick of crying.

  “Nicole was having a mental breakdown last night, and I didn’t know how to handle it,” I said. “I found her this morning in her room with a bottle of whiskey and a bunch of pills. She freaked out when I tried to call an ambulance.”

  Ryland tore his gaze from mine and took a shaky breath. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s with Matt,” I replied. “He says she’s doing okay. But Ryland… she’s not going to get better. Not until this…”

  “Stop,” he croaked. “Brighton, please come here. I need you right now.”

  It was the most honest thing he’d ever said. And so I went.

  He pulled me against his side, and we both ignored the elephant in the room for a while longer. I would ask him what he planned to do to Brayden, but not tonight. My psyche couldn’t handle it, and I didn’t think his could either.

  “I almost lost you,” I cried.

  “You didn’t,” he whispered. “I’m still here.”

  It was true, and yet, I couldn’t relax. Because even though he was still there, I didn’t know how much longer that would be.

  ***

  I woke to the sound of Ryland groaning and rolled over to find him clutching his ribs. He was still half-asleep and probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

  Then it occurred to me I’d forgotten to give him his pain pills last night. Already I was doing a horrible job of playing nurse.

  I scurried from the bed and into the kitchen, shaking a couple pills into my hand and filling a glass of water.

  “Brighton?” Ryland’s panicked voice came from the bedroom.

  I padded back down the hall, and his face filled with relief the moment he saw me.

  I sat down beside him and handed him the pills, watching to make sure he took them before he sank back against the pillow. His hair was even more mussed than the day before, and I smoothed it back into place as I looked into his troubled eyes.

  “Ryland, I’m not going anywhere.”

  He nodded, but it was obvious he didn’t believe me. And I didn’t know how to get through to him, so instead, I decided to take his mind off of it.

  “I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay?”

  I didn’t give him time to argue as I walked to the bathroom and gathered the supplies I needed. When I came back, I found him struggling to undress.

  “Here, let me help you,” I offered.

  He gave me a frustrated sigh but allowed me to undress him. I put a towel down beneath him and placed my bucket of soapy water within reach.

  To my surprise, he laid back and relaxed against the pillows, allowing me to get straight to work.

  “You aren’t fighting me on this.” I smoothed the cloth over the hard planes of his body, careful to avoid his bandages.

  He grinned. “I can’t say that this doesn’t appeal to me.”

  “Of course you’d like this,” I teased, gliding the cloth up and down his arm.

  “I like any time you touch me of your own free will,” he confessed.

  Though he hadn’t intended to, his words returned the darkness of our situation to the room. The ever-present reminder of how all of this had started. The painful chasm that still divided us.

  I ignored it and my mixed up feelings as I ran the cloth up and down his legs. His cock started to jerk against his belly, swollen and eager to be touched.

  He shuddered as I ran the cloth over that part of him, cleaning him quickly and without finesse. It was difficult to pull away, but I managed, placing the cloth back into the bucket. I moved to stand, but Ryland grasped my arm.

  “Don’t stop,” he pleaded. “I need you, baby girl.”

  “Ryland, we can’t,” I protested. “You need to rest.”

  “I need to be inside of you,” he insisted. “God, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you so much. I need to feel you again. Please.”

  I knew I shouldn’t. He needed to relax and let himself heal. But in my mind, I was as desperate as him for that connection. The one place we’d never had any problems. The one way we could communicate our feelings without words.

  So, throwing caution to the wind, I positioned myself between his legs and kneeled down to suck him into my mouth.

  He hissed the moment my lips enveloped him and tried to buck his hips up to greet me.

  “We do this my way,” I warned him. “Or not at all. I’m in control here, Ryland, not you.”

  His eyes flared, but he didn’t say a word of protest as he watched me take him back into my mouth. I could tell it was difficult for him, but he let me have control.

  He wound his fingers through my hair and groaned, his cock swelling even more as I sucked him deeper.

  “Please, Brighton,” he begged. “I need to be inside of you.”

  I pulled away and tugged off my shorts and panties, discarding them on the floor before I straddled his hips again. His hands pushed down the material of my cami, seeking out my breasts.

  I was soaking wet for him already, and I glided him inside of me without resistance. He made another strangled noise in his throat as his hands fell to my hips.

  “Oh fuck,” he groaned as I began to move. “You can’t ever take this away from me again.”

  He devoured me with his eyes, his frustration warring with awe as I took charge. I rolled my hips around in circles and bobbed up and down on his shaft, giving him what he so desperately needed.

  “Play with yourself,” he rasped. “I want to watch you.”

  I did as he requested, not feeling the slightest bit shy. We were far past that at this point. Whatever this man asked of me, I would do. It was a dangerous power he held.

  I reached up and cupped one of my breasts while the other hand toyed with my clit. All of my frustration and anger and pain from the last few days combined to a boiling point of pressure inside of me. When I finally blew, the waves of pleasure seemed to roll on forever. It was the most cathartic release I’d ever had.

  Ryland’s breath was ragged and his eyes wild as I increased my pace fractionally to drive him over the edge.

  “So hot,” he grunted. “So fucking beautiful, baby girl. Oh, God.”

  His release barreled into me, bathing me with warmth as his breath stuttered in his chest. He started to cough, and I gave him a panicked look, but he shook his head as I climbed off of him.

  “Was it worth it?” I scolded.

  He smiled and nestled me against his arm, kissing me softly on the forehead.

  “It always is with you.”

  Chapter Thirty

  It took Ryland all of one week before he declared he was ready to go back to work. Any sane person would have tried to reason with him, but I knew there was no reasoning with him when he was this way.

  It was a side of him I hadn’t ever seen before. He was on edge and going stir-crazy locked up in his apartment. He’d been trying to conduct business from his laptop and cell phone all week, and all of his employees were bearing the brunt of his frustration.

  I’d made myself scarce and let him do what he needed to do while I lock
ed myself away in the sewing room. I’d thrown myself into random projects here and there before I felt restless myself. But then I spotted some rolls of tulle, and the wheels in my brain started to spin.

  I flipped through patterns and designs as I sought out inspiration. And then it hit me. Like a mack truck.

  I don’t know what inspired me to think this was a good idea, but I couldn’t stop myself. I started with one skirt, then I kind of went crazy. Now I had about ten variations, along with a handful of leotards. They were unique with fun patterns and designs, and I had no idea what I would do with them. But for the first time in a long time, I was proud of something I had accomplished.

  Until Ryland opened the door and a surge of guilt flooded through me. I didn’t want him to see. I didn’t know how he would handle it. So I rushed up to him and helped him adjust his tie while he tried to look around the room.

  “What are you working on in here?” he eyed me suspiciously.

  “It’s not finished yet.” I tugged his hand and pulled him from the room. “And besides, it’s a mess in there, you’d hate it.”

  “It doesn’t bother me.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Sure it doesn’t.”

  “I mean it.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. “I love your little messes.”

  The words slipped from his lips unexpectedly, and I could tell they had surprised him too. Since that day in the hospital, he hadn’t outright told me he loved me again. It was an honest admission and one that made him vulnerable. Something Ryland never liked to be.

  “I have to get going,” he said quickly, wiping the moment from existence.

  I frowned and started fidgeting, feeling weird about this whole situation. Now that he was better, I didn’t know what I should do.

  “I need to find a job,” I blurted.

  Ryland leaned down and kissed my cheek as though he’d expected such an outburst. Then he pulled a shiny black card from his wallet. Knowing better than to try to hand it to me right away, he set it on the counter and gave me a moment to come to terms with it.

  “I don’t want you to worry about work,” he said. “I want you to focus on your sewing for now.”