I Love You to Pieces

by Lori Flynn

  “Ben, what’s going on? Where am I?”

  He took her hand. “You’re in the hospital. Some drunken jerk came to where you work, but you’re safe now, Olivia. He’ll never hurt you again. I promise you.” That’s all Ben thought she needed to know.

  Olivia narrowed her eyes. “All I remember is I wanted to help that poor dog, but I was too afraid. He stared at me with such rage; it terrified me.” She’d become increasingly breathless with every word.

  There wasn’t time for questions. As her breathy tone and the blue tint of her lips deepened, it set off bells and alarms around her. Medical personnel, once again, ordered him aside.

  From four feet away, Ben cringed, hearing of her collapsed lung, punctured by her broken rib. He cursed at his cowardice, turning his head as the doctor held the scalpel to Olivia’s side, preparing for the incision needed to insert the lifesaving chest tube.

  Eight lukewarm, Styrofoam cups of coffee later, the doctors declared Olivia’s condition stable. Ben paced a steady patrol by her bed. Seeing her ribs wrapped, with the chest tube taped in place, made his body ache. Worse, her pale face was highlighted by a sizeable bruise, spreading from the side of her jaw over her cheekbone. A nurse took pity and informed him Olivia’s facial X-rays were negative, no fractures. The doctor would deliver any further medical reports directly to the patient. They didn’t care who he was: legal representative, boyfriend, or Santa Claus.

  “You’re Ben Thornton, right?” said a petite young woman, accompanied by another of similar stature, as he paced outside Olivia’s hospital door.

  “I’m Mandy, and this is Cindy. We work with Olivia. We wanted to check on Olivia before heading home.”

  He nodded. “She’s still out. But the doctor says she’s stable. Do either of you know what went on tonight? I only have pieces.”

  The women exchanged a serious look. “We saw the whole thing,” Mandy offered. "I still can’t believe it. This guy came in. The smell of alcohol got to the desk before he did. He had a small white dog that was barely moving and a woman who looked like she’d been crying.

  “I couldn’t get him to fill out the form, not even his name. But the real trouble started when Dr. Hunter made it clear he wasn’t getting his dog back. The guy knocked him out with one punch! I was too scared to scream. Cindy looked like she was getting ready to hurl. We ducked behind the desk and prayed he’d leave us alone.”

  “Was Olivia with you?” Ben asked.

  “No,” Cindy chimed in. “She was over by the kennels and ran down the hall toward the exam room. Olivia was only a few steps ahead of the guy as he searched for his dog. She told him he should leave and that we didn’t even know his name. But he wasn’t leaving without that dog.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” Mandy agreed. “He shoved Olivia against the wall and rammed his fist into her stomach to move her out of the way.”

  “It didn’t stop her,” Cindy went on. “She fought back. She called him names, prick I think, kneed him in the balls, shot him in the eyes with a fire extinguisher, and then pushed the door closed when he slid into a big animal cage.”

  “We were so happy, we cheered. She saved us,” Mandy said.

  Ben shrugged to hide his confusion. “Thank you. I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

  Olivia told me she was too afraid to help. Doesn’t sound like it?

  *

  “You’re reminding me of Buckley. Can you sit down and relax?” Olivia whispered, breaking the silence in the room.

  “You’re awake! Thank God. How do you feel? Forget I said that, you probably feel like shit.” Ben leaned over her, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You scared the hell out of me. The nurses told me to push this button and call the desk when you woke up, so they can get your doctor.”

  Olivia nodded and narrowed her eyes. “I’m confused. What happened? Tell me what you know.”

  While they waited for the doctor, Ben mentioned some of what Mandy and Cindy said, including Mandy’s exact words, “She saved us.” When he finished, he watched Olivia’s wince deepen to a scowl.

  She pressed her head farther into the pillow. “I have no memory of that.”

  He wished he could claim the same. With the oxygen guarding her nose and the bruise continuing its migration across her face before his eyes, he lowered his lips to her forehead, kissing her gently.

  A lanky man, salt-and-pepper hair hanging loose behind his ears, pushed into the room, rubbing the tired from his eyes while introducing himself as Dr. Liam Anderson. Ben recognized him as the doctor who’d shoved him aside when Olivia’s breathing took that treacherous turn. Dr. Anderson explained how the broken rib had caused a puncture to her lung, making the insertion of a chest tube necessary. Both of which, he assured them, would heal nicely with time.

  “I’m having a problem with my memory, Dr. Anderson, about what happened tonight,” Olivia said before he could say more.

  “I’m not surprised. You suffered a severe concussion, enough to cause retrograde amnesia. It’s very common. Some people regain their memory after a few days; some never do.” Dr. Anderson turned and started back toward the door. “Give it time.”

  Olivia expelled a labored breath. “That makes me feel much better. Retrograde amnesia—it has a name. I’d cartwheel across the room if only I could get out of bed.”

  Dr. Anderson reached the door before turning back. “I know this has been a trying day for you, Ms. Harding, but do you mind if I ask you something?” He continued after Olivia nodded. “Were you a professional athlete or a stunt woman in a former career? Your X-rays, especially your skull series, are quite shocking for such a young person.”

  On his feet, Ben raced to the door. “We’d both like to thank you for your help,” he said, shaking the doctor’s hand.

  Dr. Anderson narrowed his eyes at Ben. “Is there anything else I can answer for you tonight?”

  “We’re good, thank you.”

  When he turned back to Olivia, she smiled, as much as her face would allow. She crooked her finger and patted the place beside her on the bed. Ben’s long strides brought him back to her.

  “It’s hard to miss those dark circles under your eyes, Ben. All those hours you worked are catching up with you. You probably don’t look much better than I feel. Go home and get some sleep. You heard Dr. Anderson. I’m doing great—for a stunt woman.”

  “First off, I’m not leaving. Second, I couldn’t sleep even if I did. And if I needed a third, I don’t have a car. I rode here in the ambulance with you.”

  “Which is why I’m here, Mr. Thornton,” Gretchen interrupted from the doorway. “And, of course, I had to see for myself that you’re all right, Olivia. I noticed Ben’s car still in my parking lot. I’m sure both of you will feel much better tomorrow after a good night’s rest.”

  “That’s what I told him, Gretchen. How’s Dr. Hunter? And the little dog?” Olivia asked.

  “They’re making Hunter spend the night since he was unconscious for a good while. They’ll keep an eye on him and release him in the morning.” Gretchen lowered her eyes, hesitating before relaying the rest. “The dog wasn’t so lucky. By the time anyone got back to him, it was too late. Please don’t blame yourself, Olivia. You did more than you should have for that little guy, which is something we’ll discuss at another time. I called Catherine for you. I assured her you’d come by tomorrow, Ben, with more details.”

  “Thank you, Gretchen,” Olivia said.

  Ben left the hospital with Gretchen. Following Olivia’s request, he called Maria and Christian and informed them of her condition, setting their minds at ease. In the well-worn leather passenger seat of Gretchen’s car, he dozed, waking as they pulled into the parking lot of Paws for Love.

  “I wasn’t totally honest with you, Ben. I brought you back here with me to show you something. Will you give me a few minutes? I think it’s important,” Gretchen asked, still gripping her steering wheel.

  “Of course, Gretchen, what’s up?”


  Gretchen didn’t speak, only walked with purpose. She focused on Ben after she’d closed the door to her office.

  “Years ago, I installed hidden security cameras. They’re all over this place. The security company suggested I run duplicate copies of the tapes for this very purpose. I’d like you to see this. Let me warn you. It’ll be difficult to watch.”

  The moment Gretchen pushed play; Ben stared at the image of Olivia, cowering. He tensed as the enraged man thrust her thin body against the wall. He balled his hands to fists, witnessing the drunk deliver the blows to Olivia’s abdomen and jaw. His jaw dropped seeing her pull the fire extinguisher from the wall, force the man into the large cage, and slam it shut with her foot. Knowing the criminal responsible was in custody kept him from imploding. When it ended, Ben’s head fell to his hands.

  “Mandy and Cindy told me what went on. I didn’t want to believe it. I’d hoped they’d exaggerated.”

  “This worries me, Ben. Our sweet Olivia is a pacifist. I once saw her sweep a colony of ants into a paper cup to save them from the exterminator. You watched the tape. It was like someone flicked a switch and turned her into a ninja warrior. She just about got herself killed.”

  “She doesn’t remember a thing after making eye contact with that jerk. Her doctor said it’s called retrograde amnesia, and it’s common with a severe concussion.”

  “Well, I don’t like it at all,” grumbled Gretchen.

  *

  Ben found the drive home taxing and the eight hours that followed worse. Except the night before his bar exam, he’d never had a sleepless night before now. Of all the stomach-churning emotions, and he’d taken the time to list them more than once through the night, guilt sucked the most. If I’d gone straight to Olivia when I left the courthouse, instead of stopping with the guys for a drink, I would’ve been there. I could’ve protected her. No one could convince him otherwise.

  He went to see Catherine as promised but spared her as many worrisome details as possible. Lily met him at the door of Casa Nonna when he arrived, following up on Maria’s request to pick up and deliver a case of personal items she’d packed for Olivia. Adding the bag to Olivia’s purse that Gretchen gave him the night before, he headed back to the hospital, vowing to improve his attitude.

  Ben’s hurried strides took him toward Olivia’s room. The hospital hummed despite the early hour. Rounding the corner, her closed door raised his concern. He leaned and pressed his ear against it.

  The deep voice he heard held a flirtatious tone, making him push his way in. It belonged to a stocky individual with strawberry hair fashioned in a military cut. He oozed attitude and lacked pigment. He had cop written all over him—and his hand protectively over Olivia’s. Dropping the purse and suitcase on the nearest chair, Ben moved fast and kissed her.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Ben glared toward the other man. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “I’m Detective Sean O’Reilly, and I’m with the sheriff’s department. I’m here to take Olivia’s statement.”

  “Do you refer to all the victims you take statements from by their first names or just the young females, Detective?”

  “I don’t recall hearing your name. Are you related to the victim?”

  “Bennett Thornton,” he said, refusing to relinquish eye contact while handing the officer his card. “I’m Ms. Harding’s attorney, and anything you feel necessary to ask her, you can do so with me present.”

  Detective O’Reilly pressed his lips, rubbing his brow before returning his attention to Olivia. After a few more simple questions, for which she had no simple answers, he determined her statement could wait, pending the restoration of her memory.

  “If you should remember anything, feel free to call me day or night. My cell number’s on the back,” Detective O’Reilly said, attempting to hand Olivia his business card. Ben snatched it from his hand.

  “Really, O’Reilly, do you want to go there? You need to work on getting as many charges to stick to that jerk that put her here as humanly possible. When you’ve accomplished that, you can give me a call. Otherwise, I think you’re done here.”

  Gretchen’s tape played on a continuous loop in his head. And while the woman he’d vowed to protect remained confined to a hospital bed, her face a rainbow of colors and struggling for every breath, he planned to stay ready to pounce. He felt justified with his reaction toward O’Reilly, until he turned toward Olivia and saw a hint of a smile lifting her lips.

  “Down, boy,” she said. “Why don’t you come over here for a while? I can wait if you feel the need to mark your territory around my bed first.”

  With a grimace, Ben moved in beside her, careful not to dislodge any needles or tubes.

  “You know, Ben, Detective O’Reilly was only doing his job.”

  “I admit I may have overreacted. But he was here to do something important, and coming on to you was out of line. I’ve checked myself. I’m better now. But if he tries that shit again, I’ll stick his ass out in the Florida sun at high noon and watch him burn.”

  He lay back down, resting his head on her pillow. His breathing evened within minutes, although his hold on her remained strong. She kissed the hand holding hers and brushed back his hair from his face.

  “You say you’re better now, but you’re still grimacing.”

  “I’m working on it, Olivia.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Olivia

  While Olivia recovered, Ben, as well as Catherine and Nanny, were frequent visitors. It took several days before the tubes and wires, holding her in bed, were removed. She celebrated as if given a gift when granted permission to shower, doing so while Ben paced by the door. She walked the halls with his assistance, holding her close, nearly carrying her.

  “As much as I love having you with me, Ben, how long can you run your practice from your cell phone and laptop?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Olivia, it’s fine.”

  “But not necessary. All this walking’s drained me. Grandmother and Nanny just headed home. I’ll easily sleep for the next few hours. Go to your office and get caught up. Nothing will happen here.”

  He raked his hand through his hair before consenting. “Two hours, tops, and keep the door shut,” he said after tucking her back into bed.

  For Olivia, sleep came quickly. Her healing slumber could’ve continued, if not for the unsettling feeling of being watched.

  “Detective O’Reilly, how long have you been here?”

  “About ten minutes,” he smiled and patted her hand. “You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  Olivia pulled her hand out of his reach. You just jumped the line to creepy, Detective.

  “I came by to see if you’d recovered any more of your memory, you know, so that you can fill in the blanks of your statement.”

  Olivia shook her head. “I’m sorry. Nothing’s come back. My doctor said I have retrograde amnesia, and that it’s common. There’s a chance it may never come back.”

  “That’s all right, Olivia. Between our eyewitnesses and the tape, we should have enough evidence without your statement to put this guy away for a while. If you should remember something, please call me.” He placed his card on her bedside table and turned with a wink, heading toward the door.

  Olivia’s smile stayed frozen until the door closed behind him. There’s a tape? Does Ben know? Had he watched it? What about Gretchen—just what are they keeping from me?

  Her breath came hard and fast. She was too angry to sleep and had more energy than she’d had in days, weeks. She got out of bed and dressed in her clothes. By the time her door opened again, she’d marked out a path by the window.

  “I’m back and in record time. And I brought your favorite ice cream—Moose Tracks,” Ben said, as she turned to face him, her eyes glaring. He set the dessert next to her bed, beside Detective O’Reilly’s card.

  She noticed the vein on the side of his neck twitch, then heard his teeth grind as he started to
pace.

  “Is that what O’Reilly did today? He waited until I was gone to come in here and tell you about the tape? I knew my instincts were right about him. And you should know, Dr. Anderson wanted us to give you time to see if your memory would come back on its own.”

  Her resolve softened with his words. She reached to thread her arms around his neck and then thought better of it when the sharp pain in her rib made her wince. Rather, she buried her head in his chest, breathing him in.

  “So that you know, I told Detective O’Reilly to go. But Ben, I want to see the tape.”

  “Be sure, Olivia. Trust me, it’s unforgettable.”

  “I’m sure.”

  *

  Ben arranged for Olivia to view the tape on the day of her release from the hospital. In her home office, Ben positioned himself where he’d observe her, rather than the screen. He told her he couldn’t witness it a second time.

  She watched every minute, felt him watching her. At the end, she shuddered and continued to stare. Ben pulled her close.

  “Breathe, Olivia. Are you all right? This is why I didn’t want you to see it.”

  Olivia nodded, her head resting on his shoulder. She couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t what she saw exactly but whom. She likened it to the picture she found with the six-year old blowing out her birthday candles, years before. The woman in this tape—with her hair pushed behind her ears, taking punches, and sliding down the wall with the fire extinguisher—wasn’t her.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Delila

  Delila worked harder than a three-legged dog burying a bone getting out, when nothing, specifically the weather, dared cooperate on such a stormy night. And now, she fully intended to indulge. The last thing she wanted to hear was Vivian’s scolding voice regarding her extended absence.

  “I haven’t heard from you since the end of May. It’s the beginning of July. Do you realize how many disappointed clients I’ve had to send elsewhere? I keep that up, and we’ll both be out of business,” Vivian’s lecture continued. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re being kept by an overprotective husband.”