Lost Without You: Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series

by Jillian Anselmi

  “Doctor, how is she?” Chase asked, anguish in his voice.

  “Her vitals are good, and she’s awake and alert. So far, so good.”

  Turning back to me, he starts to explain what he’s doing. “We’re going to take out the breathing tube now.” He turns to one of the nurses. “I’m ready to extubate. Olivia, I need you to take a deep breath and cough when I say. Okay?” I nod.

  One of the nurses removes the tape holding the tube in place while another suctions my mouth. “Okay, Olivia. Take a deep breath and cough.” I glance over at Chase, who looks pale.

  “Very good, Olivia. Now, don’t try to talk. Your throat is dry and irritated from the ET tube. If you need something, write it down.”

  “When can she be released?” Chase asks Dr. Hunter.

  “We’re keeping her here for observation overnight, at the least.” Turning to me, he says, “You’ve been through a lot. You needed surgery to remove a subdural hematoma. That’s when blood collects between the layers of tissue that surround the brain. The outermost layer is called the dura, and the bleeding occurs between the dura and the next layer, the arachnoid. The bleeding was under the skull and outside the brain, not in the brain itself. As blood accumulates, pressure on the brain increases. We needed to remove the clot to decrease the pressure. You also have a dislocated shoulder, a zygomatic fracture, and a concussion, among other bruises.” My face twists in to a frown and the doctor chuckles. “A fractured cheek. You need to take it easy for a while.” He turns to Chase. “Don’t let her overdo it. She needs rest.”

  As the doctor and his entourage leave, Chase comes back over to my bed. “Baby, I was so worried,” he chokes out, unable to hide the pain in his voice. I try to whisper, but Chase puts his finger over my lips to silence me. “It’s my turn to speak now.” He sits on the edge of the bed, clearly nervous. “I thought I lost you. Lying here, you looked so helpless.” His jaw clenches and his eyes flash. “Evan will never hurt you again, that I can promise.”

  My heart rate accelerates at the sound of Evan’s name. “Don’t worry, he isn’t dead. He has you to thank for that. If you didn’t call my name when you did . . .” Chase’s jaw ticks, his eyes dull and lifeless.

  “Chase,” I whisper, my voice dry and raspy.

  “Don’t talk. Here, sip this.” He holds a glass of water with a straw. “Slow sips, Olivia,” he scolds. When I’m finished, he places it on the table beside me.

  My eyelids feel like lead bricks and I have a hard time keeping them open. Chase, seeing my need to rest, breathes, “Sleep, my beautiful angel.”

  I sense Chase’s presence before I open my eyes. Chase is slouched in the chair, top buttons of his shirt undone, his tie loosely hanging around his neck—the exact same shirt and tie he had on when I saw him last—snoring softly. Finding the remote for the bed, I sit myself up.

  Chase begins to stir and practically leaps out of the chair.

  “Hi,” I manage to squeak out. My throat is still irritated, but if I whisper, it doesn’t hurt too much.

  “Hello, beautiful.” Standing, he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. He lifts his hand and gently strokes my good cheek with the back of his fingers.

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  “Know what?”

  “Evan told me he texted you, with my phone,” I say, my voice barely audible.

  “Yes, he did. Only, I knew it wasn’t you.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course I did. I know you, and you would never do that. Besides, the lingo wasn’t you.” I give him a funny look and he shrugs. “The text said things you would never say, at least not the way they were written.”

  “Oh.”

  “As soon as I read the text, I called Brenda to see what was up. She said she hadn’t heard from you, which was a big red flag. If you were that pissed, I knew you would have called her.” He’s right. She would have been my first call.

  “Go on.”

  “Once she confirmed my suspicions, I was on the next flight home.”

  Scooting back on the bed slightly, I wince from the pain emanating from my shoulder. Chase gives me a look of concern, but I assure him I’m fine. “So, how long before you tracked me down?” Chase runs his hands through his hair, a sign of distress I know all too well. “Chase, how long?”

  He’s frozen, staring at me. It must be bad. “Almost two weeks,” he whispers, his voice filled with pain.

  “No, that can’t be right. I wasn’t there that long, was I?

  “I searched everywhere for you. The police, too. I went to every place I thought he would take you,” Chase says, anguished. “Finally, I thought of all of the places he would never go, and I remember you told me he hates the beach . . .” his voice trails off.

  “Yes, he does hate the beach. It’s ironic that it’s where we wound up.”

  “He must have known no one would think to look at the beach house. Apparently, he bought a boat and stashed you onboard without anyone being the wiser.”

  “I don’t remember any of that.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. He drugged you.”

  ”I received a phone call and went outside to take it. I had some girls watching my drink, but apparently they didn’t do a hot job.”

  “He has been stalking you for weeks. He knew we were fighting, and he definitely knew I was out of town.”

  “Oh, God,” I whisper to myself.

  “What?” Chase asks, concerned.

  “Evan . . . you don’t know what he had planned.”

  “Baby, you don’t need to tell me now. You need to focus on getting better. Please, don’t worry about anything, I’m here now.”

  “Chase—”

  “No. The last thing you need is stress right now. Sleep, we’ll talk about whatever it is that’s freaking you out later.”

  “I am really tired,” I say, yawning.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, soothing my nerves. Standing, he takes the remote for the bed and I slowly go from sitting up to lying flat. He bends down and places a soft kiss on my forehead. “Sleep.”

  I’m awakened by screaming. A loud, screechy voice fills my room. It could only be one person: my mother. Slowly opening my eyes, there she stands with tears running down her face and an expression I haven’t seen since my father died. “Olivia,” she sobs, “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry! I’m so sorry I ever doubted you.”

  Rushing over to the side of my bed, she throws her arms around me in a tight embrace. Wincing slightly from the pain in my shoulder, I let her. I know she needs to do this, and I sit and wait until she’s finished. “Mom, I’m fine,’ I assure her.

  “Look what that bastard did to you,” she says, still sobbing. “I can’t believe I ever . . .” she trails off.

  “Mom, please. I’m fine. See?”

  “I hope he gets everything he deserves.” Mom drags a chair toward my bed and takes a seat. “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay Chase for saving you.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “If it weren’t for him—”

  “Mom,” I sit up in bed so I can see her while we talk, “I’m fine.”

  “I’m selling the beach house,” she blurts.

  “What?”

  “I can’t go back there, not with knowing what happened.”

  “But Dad bought that house. Are you sure?”

  She looks at me for a moment and smiles. “You’ve been right all along. I’ve been so obsessed with my grief over losing your father, I wasn’t able to see what was right in front of me. We had so many wonderful years together, I don’t need to hold on to anything to remember that. He’ll always be here,” she says, placing her hand over her heart.

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” Standing, she gives me another hug. “There’s someone else out there who wants to see you, and if I don’t let her in soon—”

  “Brenda?”

  “In the flesh,” I hear from
just outside the door.

  “I love you,” Mom whispers before she leaves.

  “Olivia Nicole Barrett,” Brenda scolds as she walks in.

  “Hi,” I say, not sure I’m ready for a Brenda inquisition.

  “What. The. Fuck?” is all she can manage.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “No, really? How did we not see that Evan was a fucking nut job? I mean, clearly he’s certifiable.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing he’s surrounded by police or I would kill him myself.”

  “Surrounded by police?

  “Yeah, you didn’t know? He’s here, in this hospital. Chase really did a number on him. He’s in intensive care.” I envision their fight on the dock and me calling out to Chase. “What?” Brenda asks, sensing I’m not with her.

  “Nothing.”

  “A friend of mine is with the district attorney’s office. I heard they’re charging him with kidnapping, assault, battery, rape, and attempted murder.”

  “Attempted murder?”

  “Liv, you almost died. I was so worried,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks

  “I’m okay, really.”

  “Seeing you lying there, helpless and bleeding. Evan is lucky he’s in custody, that‘s all I’m saying.”

  “I love you, too.” Smiling, she gives me a tender hug.

  “I need to get to work. Anthony said he’ll be by later this afternoon. Oh, and there are some cops outside who want to talk to you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Love you,” she says, smiling.

  As she exits, Chase enters.

  “Geez, it’s like Grand Central Station in here today,” I tease.

  “Hey, beautiful. How are you feeling?”

  “Sore. Stiff. Hungry.”

  “They said you were malnourished when you came in and you had a feeding tube while you were unconscious. I overheard them say you can eat later on today.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Yes. Very good.” Chase comes to sit next to me on the bed. “Liv, the police are here to question you. Can I stay?”

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  Dr. Hunter saunters in behind Chase. “Good afternoon, Olivia. How are you feeling today?”

  “Much better, thank you.”

  He takes the chart hanging from the edge of the bed and reads over it. “Chase, can I talk to the doctor for a minute?”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  “I mean, alone.” Chase looks wounded, but I don’t want him hearing what I need to ask the doctor. “Please, just for a minute.”

  He searches my eyes before conceding. “Okay, but I’ll be right outside this door.”

  As Chase exits, Dr. Hunter asks me some routine questions. When he’s finishes, I ask the question I’ve been dreading since I came to—the question that could change everything.

  “I need to know . . . is there any way . . .”

  Dr. Hunter sits down on the chair next to my bed, so we’re eye to eye.

  “Olivia, after all the trauma you sustained, all the horrible things that happened to you, we needed to run dozens of tests, including an MRI and X-rays. One of the first tests we ran was a pregnancy test. It’s routine for rape victims.” I swallow, staring down at my torn cuticles. “No, you aren’t pregnant.”

  I stare up at him in shock. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, positive.” A sigh of relief escapes me and I can’t help but feel grateful. I don’t know what I would have done if I had that monster’s child inside me.

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “You are quite welcome. Would you like me—”

  “Yes, please.” Dr. Hunter winks as he exits, and just as fast, Chase is back beside me.

  “The police, are you sure you’re ready for this?” I nod my head slowly, although I’m not really sure I want to relive what happened. “Okay, I’ll go get them.” Standing, he walks out of my room. I take the remote to the bed and sit as forward as I can without it being painful. “This is Officer Marino and Connors.”

  “Olivia, we’re both very sorry about what happened,” Officer Marino says.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you up to answering a few questions?”

  “Yes, I guess so,” I say, picking at the skin around my cuticles.

  “Baby, I’m right here,” Chase says.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Remington, but we need to talk to Olivia in private.”

  My head snaps up. “No, he’s staying,” I protest.

  “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” Turning, Chase quips, “I’m her attorney. Anything you need to ask her, I’ll be present for.”

  Officer Marino sighs. “Fine. Let’s get started, shall we?” He takes a notepad, ready to take notes. “Why don’t you start from the beginning, from what you remember.”

  Chase gives me a reassuring nod. “I was at Public House with some co-workers. I received a phone call, but I couldn’t hear inside the bar, it was too noisy. I put my drink down on the bar and asked a couple of girls if they could watch it for me. I went outside to talk, but there wasn’t anyone on the other end of the phone.”

  “It’s okay, baby. I’m right here.”

  Nodding, I continue. “I came back in, picked up my drink, and continued talking. About twenty minutes later, I started feeling funny, like I was drunk. I couldn’t focus, and I felt really tired. I remember hearing voices, but I couldn’t make out who they were, only that they were familiar.”

  “So, you didn’t see who took you?”

  “No.”

  “It doesn’t matter, they have him on video,” Chase snaps.

  “Sir, I’m just collecting the facts. Go on, Ms. Barrett.”

  “I remember floating, I guess that’s when he was carrying me, and I remember moving. The next thing I remember was waking up in my beach summerhouse tied to the bed.”

  “I know this next part will be tough, but I need to know everything.”

  “Chase, I’m not sure I want you to hear this next part.”

  “Baby, please. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Taking a deep breath, I squash my fears and tell the police everything. I watch the different emotions cross Chase’s beautiful face as I tell my story.

  Once I’ve answered all their questions, they tell me what I’ve already heard. Evan will be charged with multiple felonies. They say if he’s convicted, he’ll probably get life in prison.

  “If you please, she’s tired and needs her rest. Any other questions, please contact my office.” Chase hands Officer Conner his business card, and they leave.

  “Chase—”

  “Olivia, I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For not being there for you, and for acting like a jealous asshole.” Chase runs his hand through his unkempt hair, a sign I know well. “I didn’t mean anything I said on the phone. I was just so mad that I was stuck in Italy without you.”

  “How could you ever think I would do that, after everything I’ve been through?”

  “I was petty and stupid, and wasn’t thinking.”

  “Yes, you were,” I whisper.

  “I know you would never do any of the awful things I accused you of.”

  “Well, don’t apologize to me, apologize to Justin.”

  “I already did, and I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

  “Good.”

  “He asked Miranda to marry him.”

  “Shut up! Really? That’s great.”

  “Yup. Another one bites the dust.” Chase scoots closer on the bed. “So, did you mean what you said?”

  “What did I say?”

  “That you loved me?”

  “I meant every word, and now, I’m not afraid to say it.”

  “I love you so much, I don’t know what I would have done if . . .” he trails off, a tear in his eye.

  “Stop. I’m here. No more crying. Just hold me and don’t let go.”
<
br />   “Never,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head.

  “I kinda like this,” I tease, running my fingers through his thick stubble.

  Wiping the runaway tear, he snuggles in closer. “Really?”

  “Yeah, maybe. You look hot,” I giggle.

  “You just wait until I get you out of this hospital room,” he purrs in my ear. The thought gives me goose bumps. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

  Home. I can’t wait either.

  “Chase, I can’t see!”

  “It’s a surprise, you’re not supposed to see.

  “You know how much I love surprises.”

  “I promise, you’ll like this one.” I’m walking blind. In his insistence on surprising me, he’s covered my eyes with a blindfold. I have complete faith in this man, otherwise I might panic. Walking behind me, Chase guides me to our destination.

  “It’s too hot. I’m sweating underneath this thing,” I whine.

  “We’ll go back to the boat soon enough. There’s something I need to show you.” Yes, the behemoth of a boat. It’s so strange not staying at the house this summer. Within days of Mom putting it on the market, it was sold in a bidding war and she made more money than she thought she would.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as he turns me around.

  “We’re here.” Chase takes off my blindfold. Giving my eyes a second to adjust to the bright sunlight, my eyes focus on the Hendrickson’s house on Fire Island.

  “Why are we here? Did you rent the Hendrickson’s house again this year?”

  Chase chuckles softly. “No. I bought it. It’s ours.”

  “What?”

  “I know how important it is, how being on this island makes you feel closer to your father. I understand why your mom sold,” he motions his head toward my old cottage, “but I didn’t want you to lose that connection. And even though this isn’t the house he originally saved all that money up for years ago, it’s still close. Will being near your old cottage bother you? I can buy another—”

  “Chase . . .” Tears fall freely down my face.

  “Baby, did I upset you?”

  “No,” I say, adamantly shaking my head. I take a step closer toward my old house. “That house, it holds so many wonderful memories, and one horrific one. The fact that you wanted to buy me a cottage near my old one . . .”