Intertwined (Redemption #2)

by Sasha Brümmer

  “Thank you,” I tell the nurse as she leaves the room silently.

  I pull the sheet up over my body in an attempt to get my toes warm before I run my hand up the front of Liam’s shirt. I lift it up and lean back to get a better look at what he put himself through to ultimately get to me and his baby.

  I run my fingers along the line of healing stitches to the left-hand side of his abs and then to the right-hand side of his torso where two bullet wounds seem to be stitched up as well. I want to kiss each healing wound on him and thank him for being the unwavering and devoted man that he is.

  There’s no one else like Liam Jensen in this world. Not a single soul.

  An hour or two passes by while he rests. I’ve been falling asleep and waking up every couple of minutes because I’m worried that he’ll wake up and leave me in the room alone. I know that I’m being preposterous, but I need him. I try to stay awake as he dreams beside me until he jerks awake and clutches onto my body as if I’m trying to escape his grip.

  “Isla,” he grunts before blinking the sleep away from his open eyes.

  “Liam?”

  “Jesus. You’re . . . fuck.”

  I don’t wait for him to fully recover from whatever dream he was having to wrap my arms around his neck and swallow the remnants of his dream by kissing him until he’s pure again.

  His arms lock around my waist as he kisses me with his eyes open, too afraid to close them because of the chance of my disappearing. I pull back and run my fingers into the back of his hair in another attempt to calm his demons.

  A rare spate of goose bumps breaks out over his skin before he leans his forehead against mine. “Focus on me,” I tell him as I feel his heavy breath meet my cheeks with each exhale.

  “I missed you.”

  A hundred lifetimes with Liam Jensen would not be enough right now. He doesn’t expect a thing from those around him, but he gives his full heart without being asked for it.

  “I missed you,” I return as he pulls the bottom half of my body against his. His solid limbs feel unworldly as he stares at me in dignified silence.

  He unties the gown that I’m wrapped in and moves it aside so that he’s able to run his fingers along the bare skin of my back. “I just need to touch you. I need to know that you’re here,” he says as my fingers continue to move through the back of his hair, down the thick column of his neck and then back up again.

  We lay innocent touches on each other for a long couple of minutes before he pulls a few strands of blonde hair between his fingers and twirls the hair around the height of his index finger.

  “Do you remember my telling you about those nightmares that I’d have about Chloe? The ones that I tried to banish with the use of recreational drugs?”

  “I do,” I say softly as he concentrates on the hair around his finger.

  “They’ve now morphed into something worse. Instead of Chloe . . . it’s you.”

  “Liam.”

  He moves his tired gaze to meet my eyes and a pitiful smile moves across his face. “You don’t have to worry about my delving back into that kind of shit. Not when you alone are enough to put me on my ass.”

  “Are you sure about that? That dream didn’t seem like something you should brush off.”

  “Damn sure, doll. You do trust me, right?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know. I’m still learning to trust myself. You’ve also been through more than you ever should have experienced, and I see the way you look at others now when they come close to you.”

  “Do . . . I don’t look at you like that, do I? I just don’t know what they want. I don’t want them to touch me if I can avoid it.”

  “No one will ever touch you again without your consent. You have my word.”

  I move as close to him as I can get and bury my face into his warmth. “I know,” I say against the material of his shirt.

  Liam-fucking-Jensen has my heart locked up. I trust him to a point that I don’t think is either sensible or legal, but I do. Call me senseless or unseeing, but I don’t care. He’s not the hell that was holding me. He’s my refuge.

  “What can I get you to eat, Isla? You’re wasting away in my arms.”

  The thought of food makes me raise my head and smile. “I could go for the largest, greasiest, slightly charred double cheeseburger in London right about now.”

  His deep laugh vibrates against my body. “Let me guess. You’d like ice cream on the side?”

  I think about it for a moment and then scrunch up my face in distaste. “Nope. I’d really like fried pickles, though.”

  “Do they even make those outside of the States?”

  “If not, you can just tell them to batter them up in their beer batter and fry those babies up.” I’m trying my best to be strong for him as well as for myself. It has to start from somewhere, right?

  I got my miracle, and now I need to live it out.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  My heart sinks when he says that particular grouping of words. “You’re going?”

  “If you’d like it done right, then I might have to. I believe most of my men are at the hotel getting some much-needed rest.”

  “You need your rest as well.”

  “I’ll get it when we’re home. Right now, though, my pregnant fiancée needs food.” He shifts on the bed and dislodges himself from my intense hold on him before standing and running a hand through his now-tousled hair.

  “Would you like a milkshake as well?”

  I chew on the corner of my lip as I watch him collect his phone and wallet from the counter that holds numerous medical supplies.

  “A chocolate shake and fries to dip into it.”

  “You’re disgusting,” he says before pulling on his leather jacket and walks back over to the bed to kiss me mercilessly. I reach up and yank on his hair as he devours my mouth. When each of us is able to pull back, we’re both breathing heavily.

  “If you don’t go and get me food right now, I’ll make do with your cock and the cafeteria chips and gravy.

  “Fuck, doll. I’ll be back before you know it. Do you want me to take you to Quinn’s room so that you’re not alone in here?”

  “I’d like that, thank you.”

  I get off of the bed and move next to my IV stand where I wrap my fingers around the cool metal. He strides toward me and I freaking swoon right here. Right in my hospital room. I swoon at the way he’s looking at me with such hunger and love in his eyes. He’s the only man who has made me feel so beautiful in his presence when I know I look like complete and utter shit.

  He bends down to try and pick me up, but I stop him. “Liam,” I chastise. “You know that you’re not supposed to be carting me around this place.”

  “What?”

  “The doctor was in here earlier to check on me, and he changed out your bandage as well.”

  He looks down at his feet to try and compose himself before he can look into my eyes again. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “It’s okay. I understand, but will you tell me what happened?”

  “Yeah. I will when both of us are ready to hear it again.”

  “Do you swear it?”

  “I do.”

  “Thank you.”

  Since I’ve been with Liam, I’ve had to learn how to compromise. Relationships are not about what one person wants, but about caring enough to make it thrive in delivering what the other person wants or needs. The gestures that we show each other, outside of the physical ones, are those that seem to speak louder than words actually do.

  He reaches for my hand, and I take it willingly, feeling like I need the physical contact with him more than the air that’s keeping me alive.

  Once he has me settled in the seat in Quinn’s room, he places a blanket over my legs and kisses my forehead. “Keep those feet warm for me.”

  “I’ll try,” I joke, and he takes my lips quickly while Quinn watches before he leaves me alone with
a woman who took the physical beating that was meant for me.

  “I think that you’ve got a good one in your court. It’s Isla, right? Am I saying it correctly?”

  I lean back against the chair and smile at her. She’s still battered and bruised, but they were able to remove the tube from her mouth earlier today, and she’s apparently been talking the ears off of anyone who will listen.

  “Yes, you are, and yes, he’s passionate, but somehow he still manages to be a conceited asshole.”

  That gets her to laugh for a beat, but she winces a second later. I pull my feet up underneath me on the chair to warm up a little more since I don’t have my personal body heater on standby.

  “How long have you been together?” she asks as she adjusts the angle of her bed, giving her a better position to sit in.

  “Together?” I sigh as I try to figure out which parts of our friendship have been more than we thought it was. “Honestly, I’m unsure, but I’ve known him close to ten years now. He’s been my best friend since college.”

  “Oh. That’s incredible, Isla. He seems so caring.” She sighs. “He must be knackered, though.”

  I squirm in my seat and move my hand to my stomach. “I know that he is.”

  “Since college . . . that’s a long time, right?”

  “Yeah. There’ve been plenty of trials and tribulations between the two of us, as well as individually, but through it all, we found each other. What about you? Is there someone waiting for you at home or someone that you’d like me to contact?”

  She rests her head back and shakes her head from side to side before replying. “Not entirely. I was orphaned at a young age, and I’ve been in and out of orphanages all of my life. When I was shoved out of the door at eighteen, I made a run for it and never looked back. I worked for a while in a coffee shop in a little town called Chippenham. I was able to save up enough money to go to Greece for a week on holiday. Well, I don’t think I need to map out how the rest of it went when some todger got his hands on me.”

  “Eighteen? If you don’t mind my asking, how old were you when they took you?”

  “Twenty. I wasn’t sold into trafficking immediately. The arse whose goons captured me kept me locked up in his house to do with as he pleased for three years before he got bored of me and sold me to the highest bidder.”

  “I’m so sorry. How long were you at the compound for?”

  She shrugs and looks down at her fingers. “It was hard to keep track, but I think a week had passed before I saw you enter the shower room. It was a lot worse than being in that house with him.”

  I nod and reach out for her hand. She takes mine in return, and I squeeze. “Thank you for helping me in there. I realize that by doing so, though, they put you through hell.”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault, and it won’t ever be. How’s the baby doing?”

  I smile and look down at my other hand, which I have resting on my stomach. “So far, so good is what I’m being told.”

  “I’m glad. By the way, we might need to pay someone with a little more experience than I have to fix the muck-up of your hair.”

  We laugh together before she starts to talk about what she’d like to see herself doing in the future—none of which involves her hanging around here or going back to where she came from.

  I must have fallen asleep to the sound of her voice because the next thing I can comprehend is being lifted up and carried back to the hospital room that I’ve claimed.

  “Liam,” I groan and swat at his chest.

  “Still my grumpy doll, huh? I’ll take it,” he says through a smile that I don’t need to see to know is present.

  “The doctor said . . .”

  “Yeah, yeah, I heard what he said, but I don’t care.”

  I tsk as he sets me down on the bed and readjusts the blanket that’s still around me.

  “I managed to get you those pickles that you wanted.”

  “What?” I squeal and sit up. Fuck sleep. I need pickles . . . like right now.

  He actually rolls his eyes at me before pulling the table up to me and opens up the large bag of food. I groan when the scent of grease, cheese, and pickles fills the air.

  “Eat to your heart’s content, babe.”

  “Thank you so much for getting all of this greasy food. I’m going to blow you the second I finish up.”

  He takes a seat beside me on the bed while chuckling and unwraps one of the two burgers before kissing my lips as I chew on a French fry.

  “You’re welcome.”

  A little stuffed may be a gross understatement, but I feel like I could eat double the amount of what I just did. I lost count of the times that Liam told me to slow down but it was just too damn good.

  “How’s that stomachache treating you?”

  “Like shit,” I gripe and the bastard laughs at me as I curl up into a ball on the bed. “When do I get to sleep in a more comfortable bed by the way?”

  “Once you’re feeling well enough to leave.”

  “Well, I’m good to go. Get me the fuck out of here, Liam.”

  “Calm down there, baby doll. I’ll get you out once your stomachache subsides, and I have a hotel room. I can have us flown out as well if you’d like.”

  I think on it for a minute before straightening up and squirming into a seated position. “This is going to sound reckless and foolish, but I want it. It might just work.”

  “What is it?”

  I wring my hands together before looking up at him through my lashes. He’s stopped his cleanup efforts and is facing me. His shoulders are broad, and if I didn’t know him personally, I actually might be afraid at how dauntingly handsome he looks right now. “I want to elope.”

  “Elope?”

  “Yes.”

  “Here? In London?”

  “It doesn’t have to be in the city. I’m sure that there are a lot of gorgeous places around here.”

  “Isla,” he says as he takes a seat beside me on the bed again. “You’d want to do this away from everyone back home? There’s no need to rush any of it.”

  I think on it for a minute and shrug. “Brass will be peeved about it, but he’ll get over it faster than he can get inside of Hadley, and my mother, well, fuck her. She wouldn’t attend regardless. It’s just your family, really. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. I just want what we have to be concrete.”

  “There she is,” he chuckles and kisses the side of my head. “It already is as concrete as it could get.”

  I giggle as he scoops me into his arms and plants a big one on me.

  “Well? Do we have a deal?”

  I watch his dark eyes as he thinks it through for a quiet moment. “Deal.”

  “Wait, seriously?”

  “Seriously, babe. Name the time and place and I’ll be there.”

  I throw my arms around his neck and capture his mouth with mine as he kisses me in return. He tastes of the breath mints and everything Liam as his tongue massages mine. I pull back and rest my forehead against his.

  “Tomorrow. Can we do it tomorrow? Please?”

  “If that’s what you want. I just have one condition.”

  “Anything,” I say as I move my body onto his lap until I’m straddling him. I can feel him grow hard beneath me, and I want nothing more than to seal our plans with raw, unabridged sex right now.

  “When you said yes to marrying me, you said that you would wear white for me, and I’d like for you to see that through.”

  “Promise. Wait, what time is it now? Will I have time to get a dress?”

  “It’s just past noon. I’ll go get things arranged for your release. I need you to change into some clothes that I picked up for you today as well. I’m not even sure if I got the right size, but I tried.”

  “I love you, thank you.”

  He pats my ass before moving me off of his body, kissing my temple, and walking to the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “All right.�
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  I’m glad that he sees through my facade of fake strength. He knows that I need him, and he understands my reasoning for not wanting to be left alone or with someone who I don’t trust. I love Liam more than I can put into words. He’s everything to me. Everything.

  I watch his back retreat from the room, and I want to scream and call everyone on my phone list. I frown, realizing that I no longer have my phone . . . or my engagement ring.

  I try to push aside the negatives—they’re minor—and bask in the knowledge that Liam-fucking-Jensen wants to get married to me tomorrow.

  The black cab pulls up in front of the Four Seasons Hotel in London, and I get out to check in with what few belongings we have between the two of us. We’re shown to our suite, and as soon as we walk in, I know that Isla wouldn’t mind staying in here for the remainder of the day, but we’re wasting the day.

  I walk into the bathroom where she’s washing her face and gaping at her reflection in the mirror as if it’s about to jump out and bite her. She was prescribed some medication before we left, but she’s refusing to get hooked on medication again now that she’s finally off of it after years of taking the shit.

  “Everything all right?” I ask as I lean against the doorframe.

  “Yes. I just didn’t take my hair into consideration.”

  “I’m sure that they’ll have an opening at the salon downstairs, and if not, I’ll arrange for someone to come up here.”

  She dries off her face before nodding and walking back over to me in a too-baggy shirt. I can’t see her slim, gorgeous figure, and it’s beginning to bother me. Isla is a beautiful woman, and I don’t approve of it when she’s hiding from me. I managed to get the right-sized jeans for her to wear today, but the rest I royally fucked up on.

  “We’ll grab you some clothes to wear for the next few days while we’re out.”

  “Thank you.”

  I grab her by the waist and pull her against my chest. “If you thank me one more time for being the man you deserve, then I won’t be held responsible when there’s red handprints covering that pretty ass of yours.”

  “If you insist.”