Slam

by Holly S. Roberts

  “You’re nuts,” I said with a small laugh.

  “His parents are on the way. I spoke to his dad about thirty minutes ago.”

  Crap. I knew Brack hadn’t popped out from under a rock; he’d even mentioned his mother that one time. I just hadn’t considered parents; people who loved him too. I guess it was quite selfish of me really. It brought all the mysteries about Brack back to the surface. I knew practically nothing about him. What I did know was that I loved him and I held that thought.

  Mack’s phone rang and I listened to him speak softly to the person on the other end of the line.

  “We’re in the emergency waiting room.” He paused for a moment and listened. “That works. Let us know when they give you an update.”

  He looked at me. “Brack’s parents are here. The hospital provided a small private waiting room. One of the surgeons gave them a very short update and said it could be hours before he’s out of surgery. Only immediate family will be allowed in intensive care once he’s out.”

  “They’ll let me in, right?”

  “I’ll talk to Brack’s mom and dad again once he’s out. Don’t worry. One way or another I’ll get you into that room.”

  Mack’s poor face was black and blue with faint orange starting to appear in blotches. His hand was in a cast and he had a stabilizing collar around his neck. I have no idea how he made it out of the other hospital, but I was so thankful he had. He was a part of Brack and having him here gave me strength.

  “I need coffee. What about you?” I asked.

  “You know you’re covered in blood, right?” The concern in his voice had me giving him a small grimace.

  I looked at my hands. “It’s Brack’s, well most of it,” I managed to say before bursting into tears. Mack grunted as he pulled me into his chest. I didn’t know him well, but he was all I had right now. I cried until I soaked the entire front of his shirt.

  When I finally pulled back, coffee forgotten, all I could do was ask, “Tell me something about Brack… anything.”

  Mack smiled. “He beat me up in fifth grade.”

  “Tell me more,” I begged. I needed words, descriptions, anything that confirmed life.

  Mack pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me. I stared at it for a moment. The men in the tennis world didn’t carry handkerchiefs. I turned slightly and blew my nose. When I gazed at Mack again he was still smiling. His busted lip made him look oddly endearing.

  I wadded the material tightly in my hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll wash it before giving it back. Why did Brack beat you up in fifth grade?”

  Now Mack laughed. “There was this blonde-haired girl and we both had a crush on her.”

  I needed to hear this story. “I didn’t start thinking about boys until high school. This was fifth grade?”

  “That’s the year girls came up on our radar. It doesn’t mean we knew what to do with them. This girl, Veronica, had blonde hair and a crooked front tooth. To us, she was the sweetest thing we’d ever seen. One day at PE, Brack chose her for his side during a game of dodgeball. I made the mistake of nailing her with the ball. She started crying and Brack beat me up.”

  “So Brack protects the target and you do the other stuff?”

  Mack nodded his head slightly. “I never thought of it that way. I guess the answer would be yes. Brack has always protected the target until you.”

  I felt indignant. “He protected me.”

  “He broke every rule in the book.” He continued when I gave him a sour look. “It was you who got the bad guy.”

  “I killed him.” It pissed me off that my voice actually quivered when I said it.

  “Crap, are you going to cry again?” Mack asked in exaggerated horror.

  I smiled and wiped my eyes so no tears escaped. “No. If I could kill him again I would.”

  “That’s my girl. Oops, Brack’s girl.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know about that. When all’s said and done, I’m a job.”

  The noise Mack made was somewhere between a groan and a snort. “Keep telling yourself that. Brack fought tooth and nail to take a backseat on this job. Your father put the screws to him hard. I still didn’t think he would take it.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  Mack looked away for a moment before sheepishly turning back. He was no better at prevaricating than Brack. “I really need that coffee and I’m not feeling so good. Do you mind getting it for me?”

  The only thing that kept me from convincing him to continue was the swelling and bruises on his face. It just didn’t seem right to kick a man in the nuts when he looked as pathetic as Mack did.

  I stood up and Molly stood, too. I gave her an inquisitive glance.

  “We’re still on payroll until the senator calls us off. I’ll be hanging with you until that happens.”

  I could complain, throw a fit, or straight up refuse. I just didn’t have it in me. “I’m heading for a bathroom to clean up and then the cafeteria.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Four hours later, I was passed out against Mack’s shoulder when his cell rang.

  “Yeah,” he answered quietly. He listened for several minutes before responding. “I have her here with me. We’ll be there in a minute.” He slid his phone back in his pocket and looked at me. “He’s in recovery. It was touch and go, but he pulled through. They have him in a sedated coma. He has a stent in his skull to relieve swelling. The doctor told his parents he came to before surgery and demanded to see you. His mom wants you up there if you think you can handle it.”

  I was up and walking out of the emergency room before he finished. “What floor? I’m not waiting for you to waddle behind me.”

  Snickers came from several of the guys. “I’ve got her,” Molly said.

  “Second floor.”

  The elevator took so long I almost turned to the stairs. Brack asked for me. I had to see him alive with my own eyes. I didn’t care if he was out cold. I had to see him. The ding ding and opening doors of the elevator happened two seconds before I walked the stairs. I pressed my finger repeatedly against the number two button. Fucking machine needed updating. They should have an emergency high speed or something. No one else but Molly got on thankfully. A few very long seconds later, the doors opened on the second floor. Several nurses stood behind a desk to our right.

  “I’m Olivia Stradmore. I need to see Brack Jacobs.”

  One stepped around the desk. “Follow me, Miss Stradmore. His father left orders that you’re to go straight back.”

  She pushed a large metal wall button and the huge double doors slid open. She walked to a door with a big glass window beside it. I looked in and saw someone lying on a bed. Wires and tubes came out of every limb. White bandage covered their entire head. It should have registered sooner that this was Brack. I almost went to my knees. Shakily, I walked the last two feet and entered the room.

  “You must be Olivia. I haven’t seen you since you were a child,” a man said as he stepped slightly in front of me.

  “Let her in, Frank. She’s white as a ghost and needs a chair.”

  I think I fell down the rabbit hole. I knew this man. Had heard his name come out of my father’s mouth for years. It was rarely anything good.

  “Umm, Senator Jacobs. I, umm, I’m sorry, I had no idea.” Pieces of the puzzle fell into place. My father not caring that Brack looked like a beach bum. Brack totally not intimidated by my father.

  Brack’s father was from Arizona and held one of the few Democratic seats in the state. My father hated Democrats. They’d served on several subcommittees together and I knew he respected Senator Jacobs. Brack Jacobs. The connection never occurred to me.

  “Here,” Senator Jacobs said as he guided me to the chair beside Brack’s bed. “We’ll give you a few minutes alone. The doctor said they would bring Brack out of the coma in a few days depending on how he’s doing. He also said they have no idea what he can hear a
nd not hear at this point. He was very insistent to see you, though.”

  I was attempting to process everything. I turned to Brack. My Brack. The man lying on the bed looked nothing like him. No shaggy hair; I knew they’d shaved it. A ventilator tube came out of his mouth. His pasty white skin showed no evidence of a tan. I looked down at his hand resting on the bed with an IV line attached. I was almost afraid to touch him. Slowly, I lowered my fingers to his. He was warm. Tears obscured my vision.

  “He needs you, dear,” his mother said quietly.

  I hadn’t really looked at her. She had Brack’s wavy sun-streaked hair. Both her eyes were blue. Her husband’s green. That had me giving her a slight smile. “Thank you for allowing me in here.”

  “Take care of our son while we step out for a moment.”

  I turned my attention back to Brack. I would think about Senator and Mrs. Jacobs later. Right now, I needed to hold onto him. I stared at his face and squeezed his fingers just a bit. A few moments later, I looked around the room and realized everyone had left. Senator Jacobs stood outside the window facing away. I stood slightly and lowered the rail of the bed. I was careful with the wires attached to Brack’s chest feeding information to monitors. I gently lowered my head and placed my ear against his chest where his heart was. I didn’t put a lot of pressure on him, which was probably silly. I just remembered the defibrillator shocking him when he had no heartbeat. I relaxed when I heard the thump, thump, thump that no machine could duplicate.

  He smelled of antiseptic. I breathed in deeply. I got a faint whiff of Brack—musky, sexy, man scent. I inhaled again. I knew he wasn’t out of the woods. I also knew if I stayed by his side he couldn’t leave me.

  He promised.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Two days later, the doctors discontinued the medication that kept Brack in a coma. My father showed up the morning after surgery and made me go home, shower, and change clothes. Brack’s parents were staying in shifts. His mom promised she wouldn’t leave his side until I returned. I hadn’t really spoken to them. We stayed relatively quiet in Brack’s room. I whispered encouragement and told him I was there. They gave us privacy, too. That’s when I told him I loved him. Again and again, I whispered the words.

  My father and Senator Jacobs were cordial. Brack’s mother treated my dad like a family friend. Apparently she’d been friends with my mom. I tried not to think about the ramifications of our two families tied together through me and Brack. It was too much to take right now.

  Brack still had the ventilator. The doctor reviewed best and worst case scenarios with us. I refused to listen to brain damage, paralysis, learning to walk and talk again, and so on. My focus was full recovery. I wouldn’t accept anything less.

  Two hours after the medication stopped flowing into his veins, Brack opened his eyes. The doctors said it could be days. It didn’t matter what they said. I knew how strong Brack was.

  “You have a ventilator in, son, but you’re okay,” his father said as Brack’s eyes traveled around the room. They landed on me and stayed there. I moved closer and his father backed away. Brack’s mother had the other side of the bed and she squeezed Brack’s hand. It didn’t matter, our eyes stayed glued. His fingers moved and I put my hand on his. He turned it over and grasped mine in a surprisingly strong grip. I smiled through tears. His eyes remained open for a few more minutes before they closed.

  A nurse witnessed everything and she left to call the doctor. Things changed quickly after that. Brack had control of his motor skills. They removed the ventilator a few hours later. He slept off and on for the next twenty-four hours. I knew his throat hurt and it would be almost impossible for him to speak. His raspy try when he said, “Olly,” kept me by his side.

  On day five, I fell asleep with my head on the bed next to his arm. His fingers combing through my hair woke me up. I gave him a sleepy smile and received one in return. He placed his hand up to his head feeling the bandages.

  “They shaved all your poor hair,” I told him. The look of horror on his face had me laughing. “I’ve seen it when they’ve changed the bandages and now I know shaggy hair does not do you justice.”

  “You told me never to cut it,” he managed to say.

  I couldn’t help myself and blushed. I’d told him that because I liked grabbing it when his head was between my legs. He knew what I was thinking, too, because the smirk that I’d missed so much appeared.

  “You can let it grow back,” I whispered.

  His expression turned serious. “Ty?”

  “I did everything you said. I don’t think my blow to his throat killed him, but the nine bullets did.”

  Brack’s expression turned sad and he closed his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered without looking at me.

  I leaned in and took his cheeks between my palms like he always did to me. “Don’t be. The son of a bitch deserved it and I would do it again.”

  “I should have killed him.”

  “Well, you’ll need to live with it. I saved you and not the other way around. I can handle it if you can.”

  He smiled slightly without opening his eyes. I leaned in and kissed his lips. “I need to go home, shower, and make myself more presentable,” I whispered against his lips. “You sleep,” I put a small growl in my voice so he knew it was an order. I received a full grin this time.

  I left and drove directly to my father’s house. Sander and Ray had dropped my car at the hospital. My father canceled the security contract and I hadn’t seen them since. Driving through the gates of my family home, I thought about everything that had happened. My father needed to fill in some blanks.

  I keyed in the pen code to the outside gate and then the front door. My father backed off on his security when he canceled mine. I found my dad leaving the gym with a towel around his neck from his workout.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Do you mind if your old man showers first?”

  “I mind.”

  He sighed knowing this was THE talk.

  We entered the den and my father took his favorite reclining chair. I sat in the less comfortable Victorian loveseat. “Start at the beginning. Why the hell did you hire Senator Jacobs’ son?”

  “He’s the best. He went to military school, became a Marine, and then a cop. You needed the best.”

  I vaguely remembered my father complaining one time about Senator Jacobs’ stupidity for not pulling strings and getting his only child a plush military assignment during his enlistment. This wasn’t what I was after, though. “So why the secrecy?”

  “It wasn’t exactly a secret,” he hedged.

  I exploded. All my pent up worry and fear came through. “To hell it wasn’t! Neither you nor Brack ever mentioned it. Do you think I’m stupid? I know exactly why you kept it from me. What kind of deal did you make with him?” The guilty look that appeared on my father’s face infuriated me. “You fixed us up.” Now I was angrier. “Your poor unmarried, tennis champion daughter wasn’t playing by your rules and you fucking put us together.”

  “Olivia, that’s enough.”

  I stood up. “No, it isn’t. This is my life. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I’m sorry if you don’t approve. I will never be a public servant like you. It’s not in me. I like my freedom and the travel. I like the competition, and yes, the wild parties and clubs when I’m not competing. I made sure none of those ever came back on you. I pretended to be the sweet daughter of a senator making sure even my friends were always discreet and that includes my lovers.”

  My father’s lips compressed. “You love a little too freely. Those men don’t care about you.”

  “What?”

  My father sat back farther in his chair. Now I received his calm, I’m-in-charge, Senate floor expression. “You’ve jumped from bed to bed for years, Olivia. I give you credit for keeping it quiet when the media follows you around. I, and many other people, knew about it. If you cared about any of those men, it wouldn’t have bothered me. You didn’
t. You used them in some half-ass attempt to emulate your mother.”

  My father was nuts. “Use them? What, because I didn’t find the perfect man to marry? I never thought any of them would be perfect enough for you. They all came from wealthy families and they still weren’t up to par. I slept with those men because it felt good.” I was so angry my head spun.

  “It didn’t feel good. You’re not a cheap hooker. You punished me by sleeping with them. At least admit that to yourself.” My father stayed seated as he dropped that bomb.

  He was out of his mind. “Why the hell would I punish you by sleeping with a bunch of men?”

  “Your mother.”

  I fell back onto the loveseat all the fight taken out of me. “What does my mother have to do with this?”

  “You know, Olivia. I think you’ve buried it all these years. I should have spoken to you about it a long time ago. I just couldn’t.”

  A forgotten memory surfaced. The long hallway. A noise from my mother’s bedroom. Walking in… she lay naked on the bed. With a man. A man who wasn’t my father. “Oh hell,” I whispered. I think it was the same year I married Leo in that stupid pretend ceremony. Would my entire life revolve around what happened when I was five?

  My father brought me out of the memories. “I stayed with her because of the cancer. She admitted you saw them in bed. Your mother’s mistakes were not your fault.”

  I covered my eyes. I wasn’t crying, but I needed a moment.

  Finally, I glanced up at my father. “You think I partied and slept around because I saw Mom in bed with another man?”

  His steady gaze held mine. “Yes, I do.”

  “This isn’t the same decade, Dad. Women in this day and age have sex and make decisions like men do. How many women did you sleep with before Mom?” They’d married when my father was twenty-eight. I watched my father’s face heat up. “Exactly.” I stood again. “Did you pitch a marriage arrangement to Brack when you hired him?”

  My father had the grace to look ashamed. “He didn’t exactly jump at my offer, if that’s what you’re getting at.”