The Wrong Time

by Alana Jade

  “All right. All right. I’m here. Pressing the button once is generally enough, sweetheart,” a dark-haired, older nurse coldly says from the door of my room.

  “My ankle is really painful, and this headache won’t let up,” I cry.

  “Sorry, honey. I’m not able to give you anything else until the doctor comes and reviews your file. You need additional blood drawn, too. The ice pack may need to be replaced.” She gently pats the blue sleeve that my leg’s currently encased inside of as I let out a loud sigh and cover my face with my hands. I want to yell and scream. I hate feeling this frustrated and useless.

  “How long will that be?” If I were able to get up and leave now, I would. This is beyond a damn joke. I’ve never been in so much pain.

  “The ice pack and blood I can do now. The doctor should be doing the rounds within the next half hour. I’ll get you some ice chips to suck.”

  She walks off, and I let out a loud sob.

  This is bullshit.

  I know the hospital needs to check if the stuff that Blaze injected me with has completely left my body, but I need a stronger pain reliever for both my head and ankle.

  Twisting my head on the pillow, I face away from the door and close my eyes. Sometimes the dark helps shift my headaches. I begin to imagine that I’m back home with Adam.

  I hear faint whispers at the door. “Sir, it appears she’s sleeping.”

  “I’ll wait in that chair until she wakes,” a very familiar voice says.

  My eyes flutter open, and I slowly turn my head to the door, hoping the voice I’ve heard is exactly who I think it is. A smile spreads across my face when I realize it’s Adam walking in the door of my room with John right behind him.

  “Hi,” I croak out before clearing my throat.

  “You’re awake,” Adam beams.

  I nod my head before a wave of pain radiates through my brain. “Ah, shit,” I cry again, closing my eyes and grimacing as my hands fly to my head.

  The pain seems to be getting worse.

  I don’t know at what stage they say a headache is a migraine, but this is fairly close now. Either way, I can’t handle this for much longer.

  “Georgia,” Adam says, dropping a bag on the floor and rushing to my bedside. “What did those bastards do to you?”

  “I think I’ve a torn ligament. But it’s not my ankle causing me all this pain. I’ve had a terrible headache since I woke up this morning.”

  “Has anyone done anything about it yet? What about pain relief?” Adam asks.

  “I’m not allowed any more medicine. I’m sure they gave me bullshit stuff to begin with. The doctor is going to review my chart soon.”

  Adam looks toward John. “I told you we should have had her moved to a private hospital.”

  “It wouldn’t have made much of a difference, sir.” John shrugs. “I’ll go and chase up the doctor,” he mumbles before stepping outside.

  “Now that John’s gone for a moment, I want to apologize to you, Georgia—” Adam starts before I interrupt him.

  “Adam, not now. Please. I can’t think straight right now. We’ll have to discuss it later. But believe me, I want to talk. I am really grateful you’re here. That’s all that matters now.”

  Adam slowly nods while looking at his feet. He checks behind him and sees a visitor’s chair and pulls it up next to my bed. “I fucked up, baby. Big time,” Adam whispers.

  I reach for his hand and link my fingers in his. “We both did. But I really don’t want to talk about this here. I’m grateful to see your handsome face again, though. I thought for a minute that I mightn’t.”

  “What happened?” Adam asks as John walks back into the room.

  “The doctor will be here in half an hour. Would you like me to wait outside, sir? Georgia?”

  “Not at all, John. It’s good to see familiar faces,” I answer him, even though Adam’s face tells me I should have had John wait outside of my room.

  “So…” Adam encourages me to tell the story.

  “I went home after a shopping trip because I was mad at you. I noticed the power was out and tried to call you, but my cell died. My portable charger was dead, too, but it had just enough charge for me to send you a single text message.”

  Adam’s nodding. “I got that one, but my cell was off.” His face gives away that he isn’t telling me everything. “Continue…”

  “So, I went down to the front gate to see if you were there, John, or one of the other guys. But no one was at the gate. As I turned to walk back up the drive, I was grabbed from behind, and he forced me to walk back to the guesthouse. It was pitch black. I couldn’t see his face…” I try to suppress a sob, and Adam grabs my hand, running his fingers over my knuckles.

  “Shhh… if it’s too hard, don’t continue,” Adam soothes.

  I shake my head and notice John is tapping on his cell. I furrow my brows in his direction, not sure if I should say something. “I’m fine. It’s fine. Anyway, I tried to flee when I thought I saw a chance and fell over the coffee table. He caught me then injected something into my neck. Next thing I knew, I woke up in his mother’s house and was being bundled into a car.”

  “His mother’s house? You knew this guy?” Adam questions, the look of shock clear on his face.

  “Before I passed out at home, I saw his face. It was my ex… Blaze.”

  “What?” Both John and Adam say at the same time.

  “My ex.”

  “You dated the guy who’s been after me?” Adam asks, shock washing over his face.

  A sob breaks free from my throat.

  Damn! Maybe this all was my fault.

  Adam reaches out to me, and I grab his hand and try to wrap my other arm around his neck in an awkward hug, but I twist my body in the process, my foot falling off the resting block and onto the bed.

  “Ahhh,” I cry, screaming into Adam’s neck. The sudden movement causing my brain to feel like it’s going to explode.

  He tries to twist me back around. I’m sure I’m choking or hurting him, but between my foot and my head, I don’t know which is worse right now.

  As I’m laid back on the bed, a nurse comes running in with John and a doctor behind her.

  “Someone’s getting a little stressed out again,” the nurse chastises me, but I can’t get words out.

  “Nurse, I think she’ll be much happier after a shot of morphine. It’s only temporary, but it’ll help with both your ankle and your head, and maybe it will help you to get some rest.”

  “Thank you,” I mouth to the doctor as I frantically rub at the pain in my head.

  “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes to speak with you.” He leaves the room just as quickly as he entered, and the unsympathetic nurse follows.

  I’m still whimpering in pain when Adam looks at John and bunches his hand in his fist. “Blaze? Why the fuck would he want to mess with us.”

  I’m desperate to fill him in on the rest of the story—Blaze’s claim that he’s Adam’s brother, but I can’t think straight.

  “Is your ex’s last name Sawyer?” he asks me.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I gather as much strength as I can to answer, “That’s the name he goes by. It was his mom’s maiden name. But I think his parents’ last name was Hamilton,” I manage to squeak out, hoping that’s the end of the conversation for now. I grab for the nausea bag on the table next to my bed, willing myself not to throw up in front of Adam and John.

  The nurse comes back into the room with a metal container and places it next to me. Seeing the syringe filled with a clear substance is enough to make me want to cry with joy.

  Finally, some relief.

  Normally, I’d be freaking out, but if this will bring me any form of assistance, then I don’t care. She can stick me with anything, and I will be happy.

  “We’ll leave you for a bit. I’ll come back when the doctor does if that’s all right?”

  Don’t leave me, Adam, I want to scream at him.

  I
sadly nod my reply and watch as Adam and John walk out of the room, and the nurse prepares my skin to inject the needle into me.

  I’m concerned by Adam’s reaction to what I just told him. It was as though it was a piece of a puzzle he was missing. All I want is to be able to speak with Adam, just the two of us, and find out where we stand with each other.

  No matter what he thinks, things aren’t smooth between us just yet.

  Adam

  Storming out of Georgia’s room, I make a beeline for the front desk at the hospital with John hot on my heels. I need to know if those bastards are in this hospital too, and if they are, I’ll finish them myself.

  John must sense my tension and knows the direction I’m heading and grabs at my arm. “Sir, they won’t tell you if they’re here.”

  I spin around to face him, anger in my eyes. “I’ll make them tell me.”

  “All it will do is get you thrown out of the hospital, and then you won’t be able to come back and visit Georgia. It’ll affect both of you. Calm down. Let’s go and get a coffee in the cafeteria.”

  Standing in front of John, my stance defensive and body extremely tense, I scan him up and down, hoping he’s not trying to shut me up. A few seconds go by, and my body relaxes enough to realize that he’s suggesting this in Georgia’s and my best interests. He’s right. I do need to come back and see her. I can’t disappear on her. She won’t forgive me if I do.

  Pursing my lips together, I slowly nod as he leads me toward the café on the lower level of the hospital. If it weren’t for John right now, I could have made a really stupid move. I need his levelheadedness and common sense right now as mine seems to have left the building.

  We walk in silence. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but a silence that gives us both a chance to think about the current situation. This whole day feels like a blur. It’s not until we sit in the cafeteria that my headache from much earlier in the day starts to pound against my skull. I know how Georgia feels, yet mine is completely self-inflicted.

  Rubbing the spot that’s throbbing, John offers to get us both a coffee, which I graciously accept, and I rest my head on the cool metal table. Normally, I wouldn’t show any sort of vulnerability in a public place like this, but today’s been one of those days. Very emotionally draining and busy, except I feel as though I’ve been standing still for most of the day, and the world has been in fast forward around me.

  “Sir, got you a muffin, too. I know you haven’t eaten all day,” John quietly says on his return.

  “Thanks,” I respond, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He’s right, I haven’t eaten, and it’s nearing the end of the day, and I am actually starving.

  Deciding to break the silence, I make small talk with John, asking him questions I’ve probably never asked him before. It would have to be the first time in all the years that he’s worked for me that we’ve ever had a proper conversation. I had no idea his marriage broke down a couple of years ago. He’s similar to me in many ways. Whatever’s going on outside of work, you leave that shit at the door, picking it back up after work.

  What we have dealt with today is a different situation. This happened on my property. Georgia should have been safe within those gates. I should have been there to protect her instead of letting myself be seduced by the golden liquid still floating around in my system, even now.

  Fuck! My sponsor, I think to myself, quickly pulling out my cell.

  There are three missed calls and several text messages from him, so I excuse myself from John for a moment.

  I dial Patrick’s number, and it rings out. It’s like we’re playing a game of cell tag. This time I leave him a voice message. “Pat, it’s Adam. Looks like we keep missing each other. I’ve, ah… dropped the ball. I need to speak to you and will attend a meeting in the next few days. My cell may be off for the rest of today as my girlfriend was in an accident earlier. Talk soon.” Ending the call, I slip it into my pants pocket and walk back to John, who looks like he’s sending a text of his own.

  “I might head back up. See how she’s doing.”

  “I’ll come with you, sir.”

  “There’s no need. You head home. Hopefully, she’s sleeping the headache off. It’s been a long day for all of us, and at least one of us should get some rest.”

  “But, sir—” John starts, but I cut him off.

  “Truly… go home. I’ll text you later with an update on Georgia.”

  John nods, looking almost stunned at my suggestion that he goes home. He stands, and we walk toward the elevator. I notice two police officers are waiting outside the metal doors, and I walk a little faster to try and catch up to them.

  These cops could lead you to the bastards who hurt Georgia, I think to myself.

  It’s as though John reads my mind. “Not a good idea, sir. They could be here for another reason… to talk to Georgia for instance.”

  “If that’s the case, then I want to be there while they speak to her. Find out how long before those two bastards are rotting in a jail somewhere.”

  “Tread lightly, sir,” John whispers as we stand a short distance behind the officers, but I ignore him. Transfixed on the police officers and trying to listen to what they say. “Adam,” he snaps.

  My head instantly turns to face John. He’s never used my first name before.

  John takes a few steps back and encourages me to follow him. “Sorry, sir. But I’m worried you could get yourself into some sort of trouble.” His voice is apologetic and low.

  I know he’s right. The corners of my mouth turn down, and I suck in a deep breath before pushing it back out in frustration.

  The elevator dings, and the doors begin to open, and I look over my shoulder. I’m in two minds about riding up to Georgia’s floor now.

  “Go,” John encourages.

  I nod. “See you tomorrow.” I wave, hurriedly walking to catch the elevator before the doors close. Luckily, someone has seen me coming and hits the button, so the doors remain open for me.

  “Thanks,” I say in general, not sure who actually pressed the button.

  The two male police officers are standing at the rear, leaning against the back wall of the elevator. There are three other people inside, two carrying flowers.

  Fuck. I should have bought her some flowers.

  As the ding chimes on level two, the officers leave, along with one of the other visitors. I decide to get out too, even though Georgia is up one more floor. I stop, pretending to look for where I’m meant to go as I watch the police out of the corner of my eye. They’re heading toward a surgical unit.

  Following them down a corridor, still pretending to be a little lost, I stop myself. What are you doing, Adam? Stalking the police now. Stop, a voice in my head tries to reason with me.

  Deciding it would be best to turn back, a face in the distance stops me in my tracks.

  Lauren? The lady who’s been visiting my mom in the nursing home is now standing next to the elevator. I’m not sure if she just got out or is waiting for it to arrive, but either way, it’s her.

  I walk back, not sure what I’m going to say, but knowing I’ll have to say something. I’m curious about what Mom was talking about, and if it’s true, and I do have a half-brother in the world, then I think I have the right to know who he is.

  Standing next to her, not too close but within touching distance, I see her turn her head away from me. It’s as though she’s seen me but is avoiding eye contact.

  I smile to myself. Am I really that bad that she doesn’t want to speak to me at all?

  “Hello, Lauren,” I offer.

  She flicks her head to face me. Her eyes growing wide before giving her head a little shake and composing herself. She curtly nods. “Adam. Nice to see you.” Her words are dripping with sarcasm.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, not sure about what else to say.

  I don’t particularly care what she’s doing here, but I want to appear polite and approachable, and hopefully, she’l
l relax around me and agree to meet at a later date so we can talk.

  “Ah… visiting someone.” She’s nervous. Her eyes are darting back and forth.

  I force a smile onto my face. “So am I. I think I got out on the wrong floor, though.”

  Down the corridor, someone’s calls, “Mrs. Hamilton.” I look in the direction, and a police officer is hastily walking in our direction.

  “Think that person is calling after you,” I gently inform her.

  “I don’t think so.” She doesn’t even look in the direction of the officer. Instead, she walks toward the elevator, pushing the button half a dozen times as if that will hurry it up.

  “Mrs. Hamilton, I’m glad I caught you.” Lauren turns to face the female police officer, and they take a few steps away from me.

  Anger begins to bubble low in my stomach. I know exactly who she’s visiting. I know he’s claiming to be my brother. I also now know that Blaze used to date Georgia. He was the bastard Georgia caught fucking the other guy.

  “You’re his mother,” I seethe.

  Lauren turns around while the police officer stares at me, confused.

  I can’t stop the words leaving my mouth. “Blaze, your son… he took my girlfriend as some petty payback against me.”

  “His name is actually Brenton. But he decided to change it to Blaze a year or so ago.”

  “I don’t give a fuck what his name is. He’s the bastard who took my girlfriend and put her in this hospital,” I grind out, not being able to control my temper.

  “It wasn’t petty, Adam. We didn’t know Georgia was dating you. Blaze deserves just as much as you do, given you have the same father.”

  “Don’t you dare bring my father into this. Anything I’ve got is because I’ve worked hard for it.”

  Lauren takes a few steps toward me. “You were given everything on a silver platter. I know this happened.”

  “You know shit,” I seethe.

  The police officer talks into her two-way before stepping in front of Lauren. “Sir, I think it’s best if you leave.”

  “Are you saying it’s fine that her son held my girlfriend hostage, then almost killed her in a car accident, and that she can speak to me that way?” My voice is raised, but I can’t control it.