The Devil has a British Accent: Book One: Jackson (White Carpet #1)

by Z. N. Willett

  “Don’t change that. I love that you say what’s on your mind, Lauren. Are you in pain?”

  I cradled my hand around his unshaven face. “I think I am, but the drugs are masking it. Glad you’re here.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else, since it’s my fault.”

  “Jackson . . .” I writhed from the pain in my neck as I sat up.

  He flinched and pushed me back on the bed. “Lie down, Lauren.”

  “I will if you stop blaming yourself.” I gave him a pointed look.

  “Baby, I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you.”

  “I’m good, stop worrying.”

  “Good? Have you seen yourself?”

  “Um, it’s kind of hard with all these tubes and needles in my body.”

  “You have a torn ACL, lacerations on your arms, a sprained neck, hairline fractures, and soft-tissue injuries throughout your body. Not to mention the huge cut above your forehead.”

  “You have mad doctor skills.” I giggled.

  He didn’t, but it was interesting hearing him recite all that information.

  “Well, now I don’t want to see myself, and I’m horrified you’re seeing me like this.”

  “You’re always beautiful to me.”

  “Jackson . . .”

  “Stating the facts, baby.”

  “Come here.” I wanted him closer.

  Unfortunately, we were interrupted.

  “Need to run some tests, y’all,” a nurse announced, entering the room with a machine. “You’re going to have to step outside, suga.’”

  Jackson scowled at her, walking to the door. “I’ll be close by.”

  The doctor came in after to discuss my injuries. Then Blake called, and they allowed me to speak to him for a few minutes. After, the nurse came back in to poke and prod me until I was numb. No need for painkillers because I had no feeling left in my body.

  Wait.

  No, I needed painkillers.

  The nurse obliged, and I was asleep in no time.

  I dreamed I was trapped in the dense woods, and all I had was an empty backpack. I couldn’t find a way out, and no matter which way I turned, I always ended up where I started.

  When I woke, I was in another hospital room. It resembled a hotel room, with couches, an entertainment unit, and a large bathroom, where a spa tub was visible from the mirror.

  The fog from the painkillers lifted slightly as memories of Cary crossed my mind. However, Jackson walked in with three large bouquets of flowers. Every time I tried to comprehend what happened, something interrupted my thoughts.

  “Where am I?”

  He set down the flowers and turned to me, concerned. “The hospital. Don’t you remember?”

  “Yes, but I was in another room.”

  Relief spilled over his face. “You were moved.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you needed a nicer, more private room.” His proud smirk showed he was pleased.

  “Why?”

  “Because I asked them to move you.”

  “Why?”

  “Lauren, if you ask me why one more time.”

  “Okay. I won’t ask why again.”

  As he greeted me with a chaste kiss, he flashed a wicked smile. “Baby, I was thinking that you could recuperate in Spain, with me.”

  “What?”

  Jackson raised his eyebrow.

  “I didn’t ask ‘why,’ and you’re going to be busy. The last thing you need is to play doctor.”

  His face filled with the most carnal expression. His mind was always where it shouldn’t be.

  “You cannot work and take care of me. I’ll be fine. The doctor came after you left. He said I’d be out of here by the end of the week, and my recovery time will be quick. No need for a babysitter.”

  “Lauren, I want you to come to Sitges with me. We can see Barcelona—”

  “Can we talk about this later?” I closed my eyes, sleepy.

  “Not while I have you confined in a place where you can’t dodge the subject. Why won’t you come?”

  “I want to go.” I sighed. “But, your schedule is constantly changing. You’re not going to have any free time. I was also thinking about helping Ashley this summer. I want to save money in case I take some art courses, as well. I paint and—”

  “I didn’t know that.” He settled beside me.

  “It never came up. I went to the university’s art store last week, and while there, I saw a flyer for art classes in Paris—”

  “Paris, Lauren!”

  “I’m not going to Paris, Jackson. It’s difficult enough juggling time together with you always gallivanting across the globe.”

  “I’m not sure how I’d feel about you traipsing around one of the world’s most romantic cities by yourself. Some Frenchman may try to steal you away.”

  “I doubt that.” I scoffed.

  “If you’re not coming to Spain, where does that leave us?”

  “The place where I asked you that same question, and I quote, ‘I’m not going anywhere.’” He placed a soft kiss on my lips.

  “I love my flowers,” I whispered during the kiss.

  “Who says they’re yours.” He smiled against my lips.

  “You already traded me in?”

  He bit my lower lip, growling. “Never!”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Ow!”

  “Careful, baby.”

  “I got a little carried away.” I took a deep breath.

  He kissed me. “I like when you get carried away.”

  “I do love my flowers. Thank you. Lilies are my favorites, and I see you bought out the store.”

  Jackson shook his head as he laughed to himself.

  “Did I say something funny?”

  His smile twisted. “It’s nothing, and not all these came from me. These three came from Victor, Blake, and your uncle. I picked them up at the nurses’ station.”

  “Wow, my brother sent flowers. He knew what a florist was?” I added, laughing.

  “He has people now that do that for him.”

  “Right. I forgot.”

  “Is Blake on his way?” Jackson asked.

  “He flew out this morning, our afternoon, I forget. He’ll be here tonight.”

  “When your brother called, did you get an earful?”

  “What do you think? First, it was, ‘I’m thankful you’re all right.’ Then it was, ‘What were you thinking?’ Then the guilt-ridden Blake made an appearance. We were on pretty bad terms when he left, about his behavior. But, my accident seems to have sobered him up. He promised he would get professional help, and he’s going to attend some Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. At least one good thing came out of this.”

  “You are the best thing that came out of this.”

  “I still don’t understand what happened. The pain in my head was intense. The doctor said my CAT scan was normal, but I didn’t imagine the pain. Something tried to steer me off the road—”

  Jackson cut me off. “What did you say, Lauren?” My explanation and memory of the accident were way out there, but I had a moment to analyze what happened. Even though I might not have been able to explain it, I knew what I saw, felt, and sensed. I wasn’t imagining any of it.

  “This might sound crazy, Jackson, but something was in the car with me. I cannot explain it, but I was fighting for control of the steering wheel, as if someone were grabbing it.”

  Jackson’s peculiar expression was almost the same one Cary gave me when he didn’t want me to know something. It never worked for Cary, and it sure was not working for Jackson. He was hiding something.

  “Did you take anything that night, Lauren?”

  “I don’t understand what you’re asking, Jackson.”

  “Did you eat or drink anything?”

  “I ate lunch at the house, but nothing at the party. Oh, one of the valet guys offered me water before bringing my car.”

  “Why?”

  “H
e saw I was upset after you left, so he brought me a bottle of water. It tasted weird, but I thought it was me.”

  “That was thoughtful of him, and that was all you had?”

  I nodded.

  “Baby, you probably were dehydrated, which I guess, could cause hallucinations.”

  Yes, it sounded crazy, and I hated when people tried not to show it when they thought someone was insane. I saw it all the time when people spoke to my mom.

  A knock on the door made me whip my head around too fast. “Dang that hurts.” I rubbed my forehead.

  “Am I interrupting?” Cary strode through the doorway and right up to my bedside.

  Jackson didn’t look pleased.

  “It’s about time!” I said, quieter.

  “Forgive me love, for not arriving sooner.” He smiled timidly. “It seems I can’t leave you alone.”

  His expression changed as he assessed my injuries, glaring at Jackson.

  “Cary.” Jackson nodded.

  “Jackson.”

  It was obvious they were being cordial for my benefit. I should’ve taken a picture.

  Jackson waved his cell phone. “Baby, I need to check in.” He looked directly at Cary. “Someone didn’t do a good job covering.” He stressed the word. “I’ll be back later tonight.” He leaned over and gave me a lingering kiss. The atmosphere became uncomfortable as I heard Cary fidgeting. I squinted at Jackson, who smirked and looked smugly over at Cary, as he walked out the door.

  We watched Jackson until the door closed.

  “Cary, what took you so long?”

  “I knew I should have stayed. I told you—”

  I interrupted, emphasizing each word. “What took so long getting here, Cary?”

  “It takes time to fly over the Atlantic, love.”

  “No! You were already here,” I snapped.

  His face showed he didn’t understand what I was saying. “I spoke to your doctors, and they didn’t mention any head trauma.”

  “Cary, you were there.”

  “Where, Lauren?”

  “I saw you the night of my accident, in the Bayou. I saw your face. You looked directly at me when I called out. How were you there?”

  “You’re mistaken.” His tone was hard.

  “The night of the accident, someone took me out of the car and placed me on the ground. The glowing things that looked human but androgynous were moving everywhere. I saw you wrestling with someone. You turned around and looked directly at me.”

  “You’re in shock, Lauren. You had a very bad accident.”

  “I know what I saw, Cary. Don’t look at me as if I’m crazy. You’re the one person I thought I could trust.”

  “You were probably dreaming.” He wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  “I was conscious!” I huffed. “I thought I was going to die—again!”

  “Love—”

  “No! Ever since I came back, saying that things have been strange is an understatement. Sometimes I think I’m losing my mind. Other times I think I’m the only sane person around. And that’s scary. You’re keeping something from me, and I will get to the truth, Cary.” I leaned forward.

  He tried to stop me from moving, but I grabbed his hand.

  “Lauren . . .”

  I could see the turmoil in his eyes.

  Mine were begging him to tell me the truth.

  “Please . . . please, Cary, tell me I’m not imagining things as my mom does. Were you there?”

  Silence.

  Followed by a soft, “Yes.”

  My heart stopped.

  “How is that possible?”

  Cary let go of my hand and walked to the window. He stood there for a while looking up into the sky. I would wait as long as he needed, but we were going to settle the issue.

  “Lauren. You don’t understand what you’re asking. This will change everything.” He turned to look at me. “Do you truly want that?”

  “Hasn’t everything already changed?”

  Cary stared into my eyes. “I’m an angelus.”

  “A what?”

  “An angel. I’m an angel, Lauren.”

  What was I supposed to do when my reality was shattered into a million, tiny, jagged pieces? How did I put myself back together again?

  I had no idea.

  I wanted to cast what Cary had confessed to me as a cruel joke; to believe he was simply trying to avoid disclosing the truth. The only problem with that theory: he wasn’t telling a lie.

  Immediately after Cary told me he was an angel, my monitors went off, and doctors rushed in. My body couldn’t handle that truth, and it decided to protect itself by shutting down.

  Cary’s confession had made me physically sick. There were times when I would writhe in pain. The doctors thought it was a symptom of my accident. They didn’t realize my soul had been ripped out.

  Cary tried to get me to talk, but I couldn’t stand to look at him. I was barely functioning. There was no autopilot to help. I had to deal with it myself.

  “Give me time, Cary!” I strained out.

  Frustrated, he pulled at his hair. “Lauren, please just talk to me.”

  I closed my eyes. “I can’t . . .” As much as I wanted to tell him I would be okay, I couldn’t.

  “We need to talk about this, love,” he begged.

  I rolled over so my back was to him. “Cary, I will, but not now.” Not for several days, in fact. There were just no words.

  When Blake arrived, my brother rarely left my side. He freaked out when he first saw all the tubes and bandages. He admitted he had some moments where he felt he was going to fall off the wagon—thankfully, he didn’t.

  I wanted to tell Blake I was the one who needed professional help. That everything we thought we knew about Cary was a lie—but I couldn’t tell him. I could hardly comprehend it. Telling Blake would push him over the edge.

  I needed to speak to Cary first.

  “Sis, I don’t think leaving you for the summer is a good idea.”

  I stared at him from across my hospital room. We had been arguing for two straight days, and it had intensified by my upcoming release.

  “Are you joking? This is your big break. You are going, Blake.”

  “I’m not leaving you. Ashley has to go to Mississippi to cater another production, and she can’t get out of it. Mamaw would need help taking care of you. She has too many problems with her arthritis to be any real help, and I’m concerned she will overdue it.”

  “I’m capable of taking care of myself. You get to go on tour, to open for Callie Ryan. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine.”

  As fine as one could be, knowing I lived among immortals.

  “Lauren, there will be other opportunities. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Blake. This is—”

  “Can I say something?” Cary walked in cautiously, staring at me.

  “Man, Lauren is driving me crazy!”

  “I heard. May I make a suggestion?”

  “No,” I barked.

  “Yes! Lauren, what is with you lately? Go ahead, man.”

  Cary looked at me, nervous. “Lauren can stay with me.”

  Hell no!

  I was not staying with him.

  Blake high-fived him. “Great idea, man.”

  “No!”

  Both men turned to look at me.

  “Is there a problem, Sis?”

  “No problem at all. I’m not staying with him.”

  “Love, please.”

  I gave him an evil eye.

  Cary sighed. “Lauren, you’ll have someone there at all times to help you, and Ms. Lili can’t assist with things like baths and dressing you. She can visit anytime or stay over, if she prefers. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.” His eyes squinted. “I already spoke to her.”

  “Before speaking to me?”

  Who did he think he was?

  He had no authority over me.

  “I left the ha
rd part for last,” Cary said. He knew me well.

  “Lauren, it’s a great idea. I wouldn’t worry as much with Cary there. You’re going to be there, right, man?”

  His piercing eyes glanced over to me. “I have no plans to leave anytime soon.”

  “Do I have a say in this?” I asked.

  “Of course you do,” Cary said, sweet smile in place. “Why wouldn’t you be pleased with this arrangement? Having every need met. Being taken care of twenty-four hours a day.”

  “Sounds good to me, Sis. Thanks, Cary.”

  “Again, guys, no say?”

  Blake looked frustrated. “Lauren. Cary offered to take care of everything. Mamaw won’t be stressed and overdoing it. What’s your problem?”

  Cary looked at me, alarmed. We hadn’t really spoken since that day, and I knew he was unsure if I was going to tell Blake.

  “Fine.” I forced a tight grin.

  Blake appeared confused. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back. I need to go take care of business.” He bolted out the door, headed for the restroom.

  “Thanks for sharing, Blake,” I yelled.

  Cary walked closer to me. “You made the right choice. You’re comfortable at my flat, and maybe there, you’d feel comfortable talking to me.”

  “Don’t ever do that to me again! If you care about me at all, you will tell Blake it was a bad idea.”

  “We need to talk, and think about Mamaw. It would be difficult for her to take care of you. She has been worried sick, and that’s not good for her health. I thought about what was best for her, as well.”

  “You, of all people, are telling me that I need to think about Mamaw?” I yelled.

  “Lauren, we need to talk about what I told you, and I’m not rescinding the offer.”

  “Oh, yes you are!”

  “You asked me to tell you, remember?”

  I hissed through my teeth. “I know.”

  “At least let me explain.”

  Did I want an explanation?

  “I’ll go, but we don’t talk until I say I’m ready. And when I decide to go home, you will not stop me.”

  “Understood.”

  An administrator came in to have me sign some documents for my release. When I inquired about my insurance coverage, she informed me Mr. Cruz had taken care of all charges.