“Go ahead and see her,” Storm said, taking out his phone. “You’re not going to be functional until you do. I know the family is on their way, but I’ll let them know what’s going on.”
Decker nodded then woodenly followed the nurse to Miranda’s room. She was still in the ICU, but would be moved to a regular floor later if she remained stable. He wiped his hands with antibacterial crap at the door then took two steps into the room and froze.
Holy Mother of God.
Miranda’s face was black and blue. She had casts on three of her limbs and a sling on the other. What skin that wasn’t covered by bandages or the bedding was bruised or red. Her eyes were closed, and because she was sleeping, he knew that her pain level was manageable. When she woke up though, fuck, it wasn’t going to be good.
He walked to her side and reached out for her uncasted hand, only to stop and pull himself back. There wasn’t a place he could touch her and not hurt her. He let the tears fall into his beard, and he sucked in a breath.
The only thing he could think of was the redness on her ass, the bruises on her hips when he’d taken her hard against the wall, in his bed, and on his floor. He’d been so fucking rough with her, and yet look how fragile she was.
How was he any better than Jack?
Just because his marks on her had been hidden under her clothes didn’t make them any less painful.
He sank down into the chair next to her, knowing that he had to end this. What would happen when he snapped? What would happen when he finally turned into his father? He couldn’t be the person who hurt Miranda like this. He couldn’t be the one who gave her more pain.
It felt as if someone was ripping his soul from his body, but he knew it was for the best. If he didn’t leave now, he’d only hurt her in the future.
He stood up on shaky legs and leaned over, gently brushing a clear patch of skin with his lips.
“I love you so fucking much, Miranda. That’s why I have to do this. I hope you understand. I know you’re going to hate me, but it’s for the best.”
He knew she couldn’t hear him and wouldn’t understand when she woke up and he wasn’t there.
But he couldn’t be the person that she needed him to be.
He’d write her a note, tell her the reasons she was better off without him, and then find a way to live again.
With that, he walked out of the room, past the waiting room without stopping to talk to Storm. He and the family would figure it out eventually. They were better off without him. They all were.
Decker was meant to be alone. Though the Montgomerys had been a safe haven, they weren’t for him.
It was time they realized that.
Decker finally had.
Chapter Twenty-one
Miranda lifted her arm then cursed. Austin was right there, holding out her juice cup and putting the straw to her lips. She tentatively wrapped her lips around the straw and sucked, ignoring the pain in her head when she did so. She didn’t have a concussion, but she had one hell of a headache.
Everyone kept saying she was lucky to be alive, yet a week later, she wasn’t so sure. No, she couldn’t be that melancholy, that depressed, but it sure hurt a hell of a lot to heal. Every inch of her body hurt to move. Well, that was when she was allowed to move at all anyway. Some things were strapped down or in a cast, so she could do no more than wiggle her toes in some instances. As long as she didn’t move too fast, or move at all, she was fine.
Living again without being able to move was going to suck.
Yes, it was only temporary, but she didn’t know for how long. The doctors were being very cagey when it came to timetables at this point because they didn’t want her to overdo it. They only said it would take more time than she probably thought and to work on resting her body before she got to the next step. Her parents probably knew more details, but they were keeping them from her. They at least had the ability to research recovery times and methods, but she was locked in bed. That wouldn’t last long, though, since she would be demanding answers soon. No one wanted her to worry and had been very vague, but positive. Too bad she liked numbers. Numbers kept her sane. She needed an end goal, and the doctors being vague because they probably didn’t know themselves wouldn’t help her recover.
After she was finally able to stay awake for more than an hour or two at a time, she might be able to find out when physical therapy would start and when she would be herself again.
She swallowed hard, struggling to keep the tears back.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever truly be herself again.
God, she was so fucking scared. She honestly thought that had been the end of it.
She barely remembered the car hitting her, thankfully. She remembered only the confusion, then the fear when she was flying. She didn’t remember the pain. Well, she remembered some of it, but that came only in spurts. Even then, the flaring agony that came in dreams was from after the crash…with Jack. She only remembered his shoes so she wouldn’t have ever known it was him for sure without the witnesses who had screamed and run toward the two of them.
She didn’t remember the witnesses. The first thing she remembered was waking up to find her mom and dad in the room, each holding a finger on her hand. They had been afraid to touch anything else, and from the look of her, she hadn’t blamed them. She wasn’t a pretty sight.
Her skin was now a lovely shade of black and blue, with little splashes of purple and green thrown in. Her stomach hurt, and she couldn’t bend since she had a surgical wound from stem to stern. She had no spleen, and her liver was still healing. It could have been so much worse, though, and she knew it. Her heart, lungs, and kidneys were all okay.
Thank God.
“Miranda? Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor?”
She shook her head then winced. “I’m okay. Well, as long as I don’t shake my head so hard.”
Austin sighed then sat down in the chair next to the bed. “They said you’re lucky that you didn’t end up with a concussion, but with all the healing you’re doing, you’re bound to feel like shit. Here, sip some more juice. You’re probably still dehydrated, which isn’t helping your head.”
She sipped then closed her eyes. “I wish I knew when we could break out of this joint.”
Austin grunted. “Even if you break out, you’re not going home. You’re coming to one of our houses. Probably mine since we have the space, and we don’t want to tire Mom and Dad out.”
“Ugh. I hate this. But yeah, I don’t really want to step foot in that apartment again. You know?” Let alone the parking lot. Too many bad memories. She might have stayed at Decker’s place…but he wasn’t there.
She swallowed hard and put that thought from her head. Nope. Not going to go there.
“So you’re okay with our place until you’re healed and find another place of your own?”
She sighed. “Sierra’s pregnant, Austin. Maybe I should stay with Griffin.”
“Griffin is too angry to be nice to live with right now.”
She winced then curled her lip. “Well, he has a right to be angry. I’m not too happy either.”
Austin sighed. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
“Bring what up? The giant elephant in the room? Like the fact that the man I love took one look at me and ran away with his tail between his legs? Or the fact that he didn’t have the common courtesy to tell me to my face? No, he ran out in the dark of night—okay, it was the morning, but whatever—and didn’t bother to tell me he was leaving me.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she bit her lip, refusing to cry over him.
“He left a note,” Austin said softly.
Yes. The note.
“A goddamn note, Austin. He said he wasn’t good enough for me. He said he was afraid he’d turn into his father or Jack because he wasn’t a good man. Well, fuck that, Austin. His words in that note were the most honest and open things he’d ever said to me, and yet they’re all a crock
of shit. He ran away because he was scared, and he left me alone.” The tears came this time, and she sniffed. Crying hurt her head, and she honestly didn’t want to cry over him. It hurt her heart too much…hurt everything.
“I’d beat him up for you, but Mom said you’d yell at me for that.”
She let out a soft laugh then moaned when her stomach ached in protest. “Don’t make me laugh. It pulls my incision.”
Austin’s eyes widened, and he shut his mouth.
She laughed again at his expression then winced.
“It’s okay, Austin. I’m going to hurt for a while, and there’s nothing we can do about it other than wait for my body to heal. As for you beating him up, yeah, I’d yell at you. First, I still love him, and it pisses me off that I do. Second, don’t you think we’ve had enough violence in this family?”
Austin had the grace to look ashamed then leaned back in his chair. “He might come around, Miranda. He got scared. Hell, we all did.”
“But none of you ran away.”
Austin sighed. “None of us have the history he does. I know his dad is out of jail again, and he’s bothering Decker. His mom is still staying at the house, and Decker can’t do anything to get her out. He’s being pulled in a thousand directions, and he made a mistake.”
She swallowed hard then leveled a look at her big brother. “That’s all true, but it doesn’t take away the fact that he hurt me. He hurt me while I was already down. He left without a word. I always knew that what we had might be temporary, but I didn’t know he’d be so cruel about it. God, I hate his parents. Hate them. Yet he’s not them. And until he realizes that, he’s never going to be with me. Not fully.”
Austin studied her face. “You’re not a little girl anymore.”
“No. No, I’m not. I’m a grown woman who got the crap beat out of her and then got kicked again. I’m done being a victim, Austin. I’m done being left behind.”
Her brother ran a hand over his face and cursed. “Jesus, I want to kill that bastard.”
“Which one?” she asked dryly.
Austin glared. “Both. One broke your body, the other your heart, and no one gets to do that to my little sister. Decker is lucky he was once considered family. That’s the only reason I’m not knocking on his door right now kicking his ass. That and you don’t want me to. As for Jack? He’s behind bars and hard to get to.”
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. She didn’t want to think about either man, but the fact that Jack was in jail made it easier to sleep at night. The police had caught him the next morning. He’d been in a cabin he owned three hours outside of Denver. The idiot honestly didn’t think anyone would check to see what his investments were. Though considering how the original team on her case had fucked up royally, Jack probably thought he could get away with anything.
It turned out he got away with a lot in his life.
Apparently he’d hit his previous girlfriend. A lot. To the point that he’d left town and found a new job and a new life so he could run from getting caught. When Miranda’s story had come forward, the other girl came out of the woodwork as well. Miranda was sure there would be other women that the blond man with bright blue eyes had hurt in his past. Now the man was getting justice, but at the cost of Miranda’s health. He was being charged with attempted murder along with a few other things that Miranda didn’t want to think about just then.
He wouldn’t be hurting her again.
He wouldn’t be hurting anyone.
The school had called, along with Mrs. Perkins of all people. The older English teacher seemed like she wanted to see Miranda fail, yet had wanted to help in any way she could. Everyone had rallied around her and told her that when she was ready, her job would be there. Her students apparently missed her, and while they were getting along with the sub, the woman wasn’t her. When Miranda could hold her head up while not getting a headache, she’d warm at the thought.
She had a future to look forward to. She’d heal, and she’d be as whole as she could be with a shattered heart. Her job was there, and she’d find a way to walk through the halls without thinking of the man who’d put her in the hospital.
One day she might even be able to go on without thinking of the man who’d left her broken in a hospital bed.
She knew Decker had his own things to deal with, just like she knew that he’d left, not because she wasn’t worthy, but because he thought he wasn’t worthy.
While she might have been able to forgive him for leaving her when she wasn’t in pain, wasn’t almost dying, she didn’t know if she could now.
Everything she thought she wanted with him had gone out the window, and now she had to pick up the pieces and move on.
If only it were that easy.
If only she still didn’t love him.
But love wasn’t enough. Decker had proven that.
****
For the second time that month, Decker found himself in the hospital. His head ached from lack of sleep, not booze. He hadn’t had a drink since the last time he’d walked through these doors and seen the woman he loved broken and bleeding.
He’d left her because he hadn’t wanted to turn into his old man, and drinking his pain away would have only set him on the long path of darkness.
It was a step, but he’d already fucked up any chance of happiness. Now he just had to learn to live with what he had. He’d been doing that for years anyway; he would do it again. That taste of perfection with Miranda was over, and it was his fault.
But it was for her own good.
He’d only hurt her more, and she’d been hurt enough as it was.
Now he found himself once again in the hospital, but not for Miranda. No, now he was walking through the halls toward the other woman in his life, although, if he thought about it, she hadn’t been a part of his life in far too long.
Though she should have been, goddamn it.
He’d gotten the call from the emergency room telling him that his mother was in the hospital. Apparently, Frank had beaten her so badly that there was no way to hide the bruises. Decker wasn’t sure how his mom had even ended up in the place to begin with since she was usually so good at ignoring the pains. It hurt him to no end that she couldn’t or wouldn’t fight for herself. Decker was old enough to fight for her, yet she wouldn’t ask for help, wouldn’t take the help he offered. He just prayed that one day she’d realize that she didn’t have to be with Frank…and that day wouldn’t be too late.
He walked up to the reception desk and asked for Francine Kendrick. This time, he was family, though only through blood.
While last time he’d been frantic, his body stiff, his voice a low growl, this time he approached with more resignation. He didn’t want to see what his mother would look like. He hated the fact he felt so helpless. There was nothing he could do short of kidnapping his mother to keep her away from his father. Even then, he thought that wouldn’t be enough. Frank had done a number on Francine’s mind, and Decker didn’t know the answer. She came from a family where a woman stood by her husband no matter what. Vows were vows and were meant to be kept.
It didn’t matter that those vows might one day kill her.
The nurse walked him back to her room. Apparently, whatever had happened wasn’t as bad as Miranda’s attack.
Jesus.
He could still picture Miranda’s pale face under dark bruises. He’d heard at the job site that Miranda had been allowed to go to Griffin’s house to live while she recovered. According to Luc, she had planned on staying at Austin’s, but with the baby coming and Sierra having problems with the pregnancy already, she’d felt better at Griffin’s.
The fact that he still worked for Wes and Storm made things awkward as hell, but with Tabby back from her forced vacation, she’d turned into the mediator. Wes wouldn’t speak with him but passed notes through Tabby. Storm talked with him only about work then left him alone. Luc, alone, spoke to him like he wasn’t the asshole he was, but Decker wasn’t sure h
ow long that would last.
He knew it would be best for him to pack up and find another job. Leaving Denver might even be better so he didn’t hurt the Montgomerys more than he already had. He was a fucking Kendrick, and he knew things got worse before they, if ever, got better.
“Decker. You’re here.”
His mother’s small voice hit him in the solar plexus, and he took a deep breath, steadying himself. He walked the rest of the way into the room and did his best to keep his face neutral.
Frank had done a number on her face and had broken her arm. Decker wasn’t sure what else was wrong, but those were the things visible. That was too much as it was.
“Mom. Jesus. Are you in pain?”
She shook her head then winced. “I’ll be fine. They have me on the good stuff that takes care of things. Decker. I need your help.”
Hope burned through his chest, and he took three large steps to his mother’s side. He picked up her free hand and let out a breath.
“Thank God. Okay, you can stay with me. I’ll keep you safe while we file charges against Frank. Then we’ll figure out the next steps. I’m here for you, Mom. Okay?”
She looked confused then pulled her hand away. “No, Decker. I fell.”
His face shut down, and he slowly stood up, unbelieving. “You fell,” he said softly, his voice emotionless. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”
She blinked back tears and shied away from him. He cursed and took another step back. She was so fucking afraid of Frank but wouldn’t do anything about it. Now she looked at him like he was the same monster.
Maybe he was, but damn it, he couldn’t let his mother continue on like this.
“I…I got the wrong kind of beer. It was right next to the one on sale, and I got confused. It’s okay, honey, it won’t happen again. But I need your help.”
He’d heard this story before, heard it countless times when he’d been a kid. Why couldn’t she see what the old man was doing? Why wasn’t Decker enough to help her?
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