Pretty Little Dreams

by Jennifer Miller

  I have no idea what state I’m going to find her in. I know the extent of her injuries, my private investigator told me on the phone. But emotionally, how is she going to be after four weeks with that monster? Can she heal from this? How will it have changed her? Is she going to be the same Olivia after such a traumatic experience? Will I be able to help her through this? Moreover, will she let me? Or will she blame me? Will she want to be with me? Can we move forward from this? Can I? I want to find him and kill him – to obtain my revenge for all he has done to Olivia, to us. For what he has taken. I don't care how irrational that is. The legal system will never be able to exact the penalty needed. So many questions, so much anger and pain, and each question, each issue is driving me crazy. And truthfully, I’m terrified of the answers. Terrified of what I might do. Or who we will have become. Will that stop me from rushing into her room to see her? Keep me from holding her, and telling her I love her? Hell no. Even if it’s the last time, because she can’t bear to be around me, I will take every moment, every second I can with her. I would walk through a pit of hypodermic needles if it meant she was on the other side. I will fight like hell to keep her in my life. Nothing will ever take her from me again.

  After I got the call and found out Olivia was in St. Louis, I went to my condo in order to pack and make travel arrangements. I stood there for just a moment, feeling completely overwhelmed from all the emotions running through me. I had so much to do, yet felt paralyzed, unable to process even where to begin. I stood like a school girl on her first day of school, staring at my closet, trying to decide what to pack before I even realized what I was doing and that it didn’t matter - she wouldn’t care and I certainly didn't care. I then merely threw the first things I saw into my suitcase while calling the airline to arrange for a flight and rental car for both Pyper, and me. All tasks that had to be completed, but I was furious with the time it took to accomplish it all. What I really wanted was to take action, to get in the damn car and take off and drive, but that would ultimately have meant an even longer time before I could see her. So, I did my best to put emotions aside, and just do what needed to be done.

  The flight seemed to take forever, but upon arrival at the Saint Louis International Airport, while hard for her, Pyper chose to wait behind for Olivia’s parents, while I went on ahead. They shouldn't be far behind us, scheduled to have arrived within a half hour of our flight, but I couldn’t wait another minute. I have to get to Olivia. To see her. My heart won’t beat right again until I do.

  “In one mile, turn right on Hospital Plaza. Your destination will be on the left.”

  Finally. Thank God for GPS since I have no clue where the hell I’m going. The twenty two miles seemed so far and seemed to take so long. I couldn't drive fast enough, yet, knew that getting a ticket would only make things worse; require time that I do not have to spare. And I can only imagine how an interaction with a cop would have gone down – not very pretty. So, why St. Louis? Why did Deacon bring her here, of all places? I finally reach my destination and quickly swing into the first parking space I see. I don’t give a fuck that it’s a handicapped spot, my life has been one big handicap without my girl. Anyone that has a problem can call the cops, I couldn’t care less.

  As I fly through the hospital entrance, aware that this is a fucking big place, I abruptly ask the volunteer Olivia's room number and the directions to the elevator. They really do wear pink at these places. Could one elevator take so long? Arriving on the 12th floor, flying through the doors, I am confronted by a large nurse's station and a young nurse who seems oblivious to my arrival. There are no signs that I can see indicating where I should go, so getting help is necessary. She’s twirling her hair, snapping gum, and talking on the phone - awesome. I swear she turns her chair slightly away from me. “Yeah, I know right?! Thank goodness it’s kind of a slow night tonight. If I’m lucky, I’ll get off early.”

  “Excuse me, Miss? I need directions to Olivia Brooks’ room, please.”

  She sighs and rolls her eyes, “I gotta go, Joey. I will see you during break. Uh huh…yeah. Oh really? They’re serving fish again? Ugh, gross, who wants to eat fish from a –“

  I reach over the counter and disconnect little Miss bubblegum’s call, “HEY!”

  I take a deep breath, and try again, “I said, where is Olivia Brooks' room, please?”

  With another sigh, she taps on her keyboard before finally telling me, “She’s going to be in room 1236, but right now she's in recovery room three, down on the second floor. The elevators are through that entryway over there,” she says pointing to the right. “Oh, yeah, you know that right? I mean you just came up them. But maybe you came up on the other ones...”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” I hear her mumble under her breath.

  I take off in a near run and find myself again stabbing the elevator button with impatience. I barely acknowledge the individuals on the elevator with me, and begin the second longest elevator ride of my life. Once I’m on the floor, I confront yet another reception desk. I again ask for Olivia and after providing my name, rank and serial number, am allowed through the doors that lead to her current room. There are no doors, only curtains, and the numbers are posted outside each cubicle looking space. I’m so close to her, my stomach is in knots, my heart is aching, and my mind is full of so many questions. I’m just steps away from seeing her, holding her.

  When I see the policeman standing outside the curtain of room number five I abruptly stop. Looking at me, eyebrow raised, the officer says, “Can I help you?”

  “Uh, yes. Is this Olivia Brooks’ room?”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Luke Easton.”

  “Okay, I was told you were on your way here, but I need to see some identification first.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.” I hurriedly take my wallet out of my back pocket and pull my driver’s license out, showing it to the officer. He holds it up and inspects it carefully, looking from my ID, to me, and back again.

  He hands it back to me, “Okay, thanks. The last time I checked, she was still unconscious from surgery. We are still waiting to get a statement from her about what happened. As soon as she wakes, I need you to let me know. Time is of the essence, if we are going to find the man that did this to her, okay?”

  Just the reference to that bastard makes my fists clench as anger rushes through my body. I tap it down because now isn’t the time. Instead, I nod and reply, “I understand.”

  He nods, “You can go on in.”

  I don’t waste another moment maneuvering the curtain back, anxious to see her. I stop in my tracks at the sight. She looks so small; the bed almost swallows her whole. She has an oxygen tube around her nose, an IV running in her arm, some type of device attached to her index finger, and is connected to various monitors that are producing both a rhythmical beat and hum. Her right leg is suspended slightly over the bed, being held in place by some sling contraption, and her left arm is wrapped in a large bandage. She has visible bruises and scratches in nearly every place where her skin is exposed. She’s still resting, but her eyelids move rapidly and her brow is furrowed in sleep, as if she’s trying to solve a problem.

  I have to keep myself from falling to my knees at the sight of her. My legs buckle, tears flood my eyes, and I feel a ball in my throat. Her beautiful ivory skin is so pale; it wrenches my stomach. I can’t help but miss the beautiful flush her skin has when she’s laughing or excited by my touch.

  I don’t want to wake her, but the desire to touch her is a physical ache I feel all the way to my toes, making them curl in my shoes. Walking to the foot of her bed, I simply stand there and take her in. Tears I had been trying so hard to contain fall freely from my eyes. It has been one hell of a day – between my mother’s funeral and now this – it’s all too much. Wow, I've hardly thought about that in all of the urgency and rush to get here. Leaving my mother’s funeral, while difficult because I know my dad could use my support,
was the right thing to do. I have no doubt about that. Once upon a time, I chose my mom over Olivia, trying to make everyone happy, and the consequences of those actions took me years to make right. Choosing Olivia, prioritizing her, even at this time wasn’t even a question, and I know she would understand. Wiping my face, I find myself at the side of her bed reaching my hands out to touch her. I hesitate because with all her scrapes, bruises and cuts I don’t want to hurt her. There isn’t a spot on her that appears to be a safe choice.

  Finally, I settle for her cheek. I can’t stop myself from trailing the back of my fingers down her profile, and as I do more tears escape, and I don’t even care. I will gladly hand in my man card. I was so afraid I would never see her again. I love this woman with every part of me. She is my past, my present, and I hope she’s my future. If she can forgive me, I will spend my life trying to make it up to her. I don’t want anyone but her. I’ve spent seven long years of my life living without her, always wondering where she was, if she was happy, if she ever thought about me or remembered us at all. I can’t imagine going back to that. It would kill me. I need her like the earth needs the sun.

  Cupping the side of her face, I whisper, “Oh, my angel. I’m so sorry. So, so, sorry. Please forgive me. I should have been there. I wish I had been there.”

  Without warning, Olivia turns her face into my hand, nuzzling it. Her eyes open to slits and she murmurs, “Luke?”

  “I’m here, love.”

  “Am I dreaming?”

  Those words make my heart wrench hard in my chest, “No angel, you’re not dreaming. I’m here.”

  “Luke, please don’t leave me. Please God, I know this is a dream, but please, let him stay a little longer.” Her eyes close and it takes her a while to reopen them. I can tell she’s struggling to stay awake.

  Her words gut me. “I’m here. You’re safe now. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her lips turn up at the corners making my breath catch in my throat. Her smile is beauty amongst so many touches of pain. “This is the best dream so far. I love you, Luke.”

  My breath leaves my body in a harsh exhale. I don’t think I will ever tire of hearing those words pass her lips. “I love you too.” I bend down and place a soft kiss upon her lips. I can’t resist. She doesn’t respond, and I know she’s slipped back into sleep once again.

  I’ve planted myself in a chair at her side, with no intention of leaving. They have moved her to the room on the twelfth floor. She hardly aroused when the nurses told her what was happening, choosing instead to sleep through the entire process, commotion and elevator ride and all. I'm guessing it's part medication and part exhaustion. I’m holding one of her hands, and can’t stop myself from repeatedly tracing circles over her knuckles. Since we arrived in her room, three more times she’s regained consciousness, each time, her eyes find mine, she asks me if she’s dreaming, and falls back to sleep. It splits my heart open every time.

  I just want her to open her beautiful green eyes and know without question that I’m here. I want her to know she’s safe, and that I will do everything I can to make sure this never happens again.

  Pyper is here, as well as Olivia’s parents. She’s not yet been able to be aware of their presence or even take in the room. She seems unaware of anyone, except me, and that is just fine. Olivia continues to ask me if she’s dreaming each time she wakes, and it has made them emotional as well. All of us are wondering the same thing… what happened to her during her kidnapping?

  I know I should probably move from my vigil at her bedside and let Pyper and Olivia’s parents be closer to her, but I can’t find it within myself to move. They haven’t asked, so I think they understand. And so, we all just sit here, watching her sleep, thanking God she’s alive, and waiting for her to open her eyes again.

  “Luke, we are going to go to the cafeteria and get some coffee and something to eat. Can we bring you something?” Joy, Olivia’s mom, asks.

  “I don’t know if I can eat anything right now. Maybe just some coffee, please.”

  She gets a scolding look on her face that I remember well. It may have been years since I’ve seen Joy and Nelson, but I still remember that look from the days Olivia would get home late and her parents didn’t approve. “You need to eat something. You won’t be good to anyone if you’re tired and hungry. It will only run you down.”

  Pyper is smirking at me, likely because Joy just stated exactly what she was thinking. It’s written all over her face. “Okay, you’re right. Maybe just a muffin or something would be fine.”

  “I’m going to go with them. Will you let us know if she wakes up? I have my cell phone.” Pyper asks.

  “Of course.”

  They head out of the room and I resume rubbing circles into Olivia’s soft hands.

  Fifteen minutes or so have passed since they all left the room, when I notice Olivia’s eyes flutter. I squeeze her hand automatically in response, and am overjoyed when her hand squeezes mine in return.

  “Olivia?”

  Her eyes open, and she stares at the ceiling above her. For a moment, her face is peaceful, and then I can tell the instant clarity arrives, because her face registers panic before she realizes where she is. Her body jerks, and for a minute, she looks like she’s trying to sit up, but then she whimpers in what I assume is pain.

  Immediately, I tighten my grip on her hand and stand next to her running my hand down the side of her face, trying to soothe away the hurt. Her eyes focus on me. “Hi, angel.”

  “Luke?”

  “I’m here. You’re safe now. It’s okay. Do you know where you are? Do you remember being brought in here?”

  She doesn’t respond, she just stares into my eyes, and I’m bracing myself for when she assumes I’m a dream once again. Then, without warning, she clutches my shirt with her right arm and pulls me to her. She tries to wrap her damaged arm behind my neck to pull herself up. “Luke! Oh my God, Luke!”

  I place my arms around her the best I can, given the contraptions and restrictions her body has right now. “I’m here. I’m here. Please don’t hurt yourself. You need to take it easy right now.”

  I hold her against my chest carefully, and run my fingers through her hair. “I love you so much, Livvie. So, so much.” I can’t quit telling her, reminding her. I thought I’d never get the chance to again – I don’t know if I’ll be able to any time soon.

  In response, Olivia’s body starts shaking, and when she makes a choked sound, I pull back and look at her face, afraid. She’s trying to hold it in, but the dam breaks and she starts sobbing. Tears fall like a waterfall down her cheeks and her whole body trembles, breaking me into pieces. I don’t know the right words to say, or how I can make this better. I want to make it all go away for her, but I know I can’t. At least not yet.

  “I never want to let go,” she cries, “please don’t let me go.”

  “Never… I will never let go. I missed you so much,” I wipe the tears from her face the best I can, but they continue to fall, despite my efforts. “I died a little inside every day that you were away from me. I’m so sorry, angel. I’m so, so sorry.” I stop talking because now I’m afraid I’m going to lose it too, and that’s the absolute last thing she needs to see.

  Pulling away from me, Olivia looks up at me and loosens her grip on my shirt so she can swipe at her teary eyes. Her green eyes are shining brightly from her tears and I move her hand aside and wipe them from her cheeks with my thumbs again. I lean in and place a gentle kiss on her lips, feeling her lips respond to mine immediately. My whole body responds and I can feel myself tingle in places that are highly inappropriate, given the situation. I can’t help it though; I always have this reaction around her. My body has a mind of its own. I want so much more. I need so much more. I want to crawl inside of her, take care of her, and protect her. I need it so badly, but of course, now is not the time to lose control.

  “Sorry? Why are you telling me you’re sorry? You didn’t do anything, Luke.”
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  “Because I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there to keep you safe. I wasn’t there to keep this from happening to you.” My voice breaks, the pain in my chest becoming too much to hide.

  “Luke, no. I cannot handle you trying to blame yourself for this. There is only one person who’s to blame. Please, don’t say that again.”

  “But…”

  “No! I mean it. Don’t.”

  I brush her hair away from her face and lower my lips to hers. I have to. It’s a need I have no control over. I kiss her, and in that kiss, I try to convey to her every emotion I’m feeling. My despair at losing her, my desperation and determination to bring her home, and my pure joy to finally have her back again. Pulling away, I look into her eyes, hoping that mine somehow tell her everything I’m too choked up to say. I open my mouth to try and form the words, but before I can do so, we are interrupted by the door opening.

  “I just came back up real quick to bring you-” Pyper stops mid-whisper when she realizes Olivia is awake. The coffee and muffin she’s holding are forgotten and crash to the floor, and then there is nothing but a red blur as the tornado that is Pyper rushes to her best friend’s side.

  “Olivia! Oh my God, Olivia!” Pyper is sobbing and Olivia is crying in response to Pyper. I should probably back the hell up and give them their moment, but again, just thinking about moving away from Olivia’s side gives me a physical ache. I can’t make myself do it.

  “Pyper! I am so happy you are okay. I asked… him… I asked… and he told me… he told me you were, but I didn’t know if he was telling me the truth.” Olivia can barely speak in between her sobs.

  Pyper embraces Olivia and they hold onto one another and cry.

  5.

  THE INTERROGATION