by Juli Valenti
“No birthday party is complete without a cake. Compliments of the nurses here. We didn’t know what she’d like so we got half white and half chocolate, just in case,” she told them, her eyes moving over Jensen completely and meeting Dean’s, who shrugged.
“I don’t remember … it’s been a while. I’m sure she’ll love it.”
Hearing his words made Jensen’s chest tighten. It had been so long her own brother couldn’t even remember what kind of cake she liked?
“They’re bringing her back any second, so if you’re planning a jump up, surprise thing, you should probably try to hide,” she said before leaving the room once more.
The men looked at each other and Carrigan gripped his hat, tipping it to them before moving toward the doorway.
“I’ll leave you two to it, since this is your doing. Marks…” he started and Jensen inwardly cringed, waiting for the berating he was going to get. He knew what it looked like, a grown man, officer of the law, taking interest in a seventeen-year-old beaten girl. Preparing to defend himself, he gritted his teeth. “You did good.”
Surprised, Jensen barely kept his composure, blowing his breath out slowly instead of the heave his lungs wanted. That wasn’t what he’d expected at all; he’d been waiting for a tongue lashing from the man, a scolding on the right and wrongs of what he was doing – and the ever reminder of her age, the reason for their effort to begin with.
At the sound of wheels approaching, he helped Dean gather the last of the bags and boxes and hid them in the closet. As Drew neared, Jensen held his breath, hoping she’d like his gift to her. A gift of light, a gift of hope. A gift for her and her alone.
Her eyes were closed as the nurses wheeled her bed back in the room, exhaustion and something else written on her face. Pain, maybe? The young woman had creases around her lids, her forehead scrunched, and her mouth a thin line. Some of Jensen’s nervousness disappeared, anger overpowering the lighter emotion. It frustrated him that he continued getting so mad about things he couldn’t change, but it was just wrong seeing her beauty marred by something he couldn’t fix.
The nurses situated the bed back in its original position, seeming to take forever, and all the while Drew never opened her eyes. Once her lines were reconnected, monitors connected and beeping again, the nurse situated her covers before nodding toward the men and leaving the room. Jensen shot a questioning glance to Dean, unsure of what to do. In any other situation he would have cleared his throat, maybe said her name, but none of that would help here. If he knew sign language, which he definitely didn’t, he could’ve said something, but even that, without her looking at him it would do little good. He momentarily entertained the idea of moving toward her bed, possibly placing a hand on her shoulder, but decided against it. The poor girl was hurt, her injuries beyond what he could even see, he knew, and, more than that, she’d been abused. It was his experience that victims of such despicable things were often … uncomfortable, with unfamiliar touching, regardless of the intentions behind them.
Come on, Drew, Open your eyes, beautiful girl, he mentally urged her, as if his words could will it to happen. See something bright when you wake for once.
Glancing at Dean once more, Jensen felt helpless and hated it. They could always just wait, hope for the chance that she would feel their presence, or, if it took that long, stay until she simply woke up. He knew himself though; he was on edge, nervous, excited, for her to see what they’d done for her. It wasn’t something he cared to think on, analyze in himself, but it was there, stirring his stomach until he felt almost sick with it. The more he thought about the feeling in his gut, the more frustrated he was getting.
Taking a step forward to leave, to say to hell with the whole thing, he was stopped by a simple movement, one single action. Drew stirred, then, finally, opened her eyes.
The sun has just risen for the first time ever, Jensen thought. A part of him wanted to leave the room as fast as he’d entered, escape before emotion could get the better of him. The other part of him, though, wanted to bask in the expression on the young girl’s face in front of him.
Jensen had known she was beautiful, could see it through the damage that had her in the hospital to begin with. There had been no pictures in the house when he’d been on the scene of the fire, he had no ‘normal’ images of her to go on, but still, he’d known. What he hadn’t been prepared for, though, was just how much a transformation it would be to see her smile.
Drew was more than just simply beautiful. No, when she opened her eyes, taking in everything of the room, and her lips had drawn up, the world had stopped for him. She was stunning, breathtaking. For him, it was like the whole Earth had stopped moving on its axis, changing the gravitational pull of the whole universe. You sound like a corny Hallmark movie, Officer Marks, his brain quipped. Fuck off. You know I’m right.
He couldn’t move and didn’t know what to do, a first for him. Instead, he stood rooted to the tile, unable to take his eyes off her. Dean stood beside him, both watching as her gaze slowly moved from balloon to balloon, flower bouquet to flower bouquet.
As her eyes moved to take the two of them in, water had filled her eyes, silent tears streaming down her face. Jensen’s chest tightened. This wasn’t right – she wasn’t supposed to cry. She was supposed to keep smiling, to feel happy and joy. Why the hell is she crying? Did I do something wrong?
A panicked look must’ve crossed his face because Dean leaned closer to him.
“She’s happy,” he murmured quietly, the whisper unnecessary but probably a force of habit for the boy since Jensen knew she couldn’t have heard him anyway.
“Then why is she crying?” Jensen questioned back, his eyes meeting with Drew’s.
If her brother answered him, there was no way he heard him. He got lost in her gaze, the intensity of emotion behind her beautiful honey eyes causing him to rub at the tightening in his chest. A thousand things passed between them: confusion, fear, depression, along with compassion, surprise, hope. Everything and more was laid bare between them. Warmth filled him as he detected a hint of … longing? Definitely longing.
You’re a despicable piece of shit, Marks. She’s seventeen, bruised and battered, and you’re getting hot and bothered for her. It wasn’t like that, though he couldn’t quite explain the differences from his heart to his head.
“Dude, did you hear anything I’ve said?” Dean asked, nudging him with an elbow and breaking the spell between him and Drew.
“Nope.”
Refusing to meet her brother’s glance, slightly afraid of the accusations that would be written on his face, Jensen turned his attention to the floor. Accusations you deserve, my friend, accusations you deserve. After a moment of studying the white petals beneath his feet, Drew spoke.
“What is this?” she asked, snapping his gaze back to hers once more.
“Happy birthday, Drew,” Jensen said softly, catching Dean’s hands moving beside him, translating his words to sign language. Drew cocked her head to the side, confusion coloring her face.
“Why?”
First and last time you’ll ever hear a woman ask that in response to a birthday wish, he thought to himself. A smirk lifted the side of his lips as he internally examined her question. She’d echoed a constant thought he’d had the entire day. Why? Why had he taken the time to celebrate a birthday for a girl he didn’t know? Why? Why was she asking why for a birthday present? Anger returned to him as he wished he could play hockey with her father’s fucking head.
“Because it’s your birthday. And your birthday is something to be celebrated,” he told her simply, slowly, so she’d focus on his lips instead of her brother’s hands. Taking a step toward her, he pulled a small box from his pocket and set it on the bed beside her. “Just a little something.”
Jensen watched as she picked the small wrapped gift he’d gotten for her earlier in the day. He wished it held something great, something earthshattering and mind blowing, but it didn’t. When he’d gone out looking
for a gift, honestly, he hadn’t had the slightest idea what to get. It wasn’t like he could ask for guidance from a store clerk either – he wouldn’t have been able to answer any questions about what she did or didn’t like. That’s because you don’t know her. You’re such a creep, dude, for real.
Shaking his head, he kept his attention on Drew as she delicately unwrapped the paper. The fact that her fingers moved slowly, pain lines creasing her forehead, wasn’t lost to him. Instantly he regretted having the damn thing gift wrapped – he should’ve put it in a small bag or something, make it easier on her. But then, you would’ve had to use your brain … which you haven’t … all day.
The sun-bright smile of hers returned as she pulled the trinket from the box. The braided pink bracelet he’d purchased for her looked large in her hands, the circular pale-pink gem entwined to be the focal point of it as big as her wrist. Maybe he should have measured her wrist before purchasing it? Creep. You are a fucking creep, his brain screamed and he wished he could scowl at himself. So you’ve already told me, he settled for saying, trying to ignore it and focus on her. I’ll keep saying it till you admit it.
“It’s … it’s,” Drew stammered, tears filling her eyes once more as she held the gift in her hands, all but breaking Jensen’s heart. As he was about to apologize, to snatch it away and promise something better, she looked up at him. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m crying, I really love it.”
Her words, though sounding strained and slightly off, were music to his ears. He’d never understand women, why they cried when they were happy and sad, but he was pleased she didn’t hate it. Fighting the urge to puff his chest out like a proud male bird, he smiled at her.
“You’re welcome.”
Dean stepped forward with his own gift and the two conversed for what seemed like forever. It was driving Jensen crazy, not having any idea what the hand movements meant – he felt like he was the one with the disability. The disability of not understanding sign language. Of course, he knew the basics everyone knew: ‘I love you,’ ‘thank you,’ and ‘hello,’ but everything else was lost to him.
Shuffling his feet, he debated leaving, giving the twins their time. His work was done; there really wasn’t any reason for him to stay … though that thought didn’t sit right with him. She was a reason to stay. Creep.
“Officer Marks?” Dean’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts before he could get into another debate with himself.
“Huh?”
“Cake?” Jensen noticed he’d turned slightly, moving his mouth out of eyeshot of his sister, clearly wanting it to be a surprise. Nodding, he moved with the kid to snatch it off the couch and placed the candles the nurse had taped to the top of the box. Good thinking on their part, he wouldn’t have even thought about them. Lighting them, he carried it back to the beautiful girl struggling to sit upright in bed.
Together, the two of them sang, before more voices joined in. A look to the side and he noticed that several of the nurses, along with a couple doctors, and even Carrigan, stood in the entryway, all wanting to be part of the celebration. And, though it was probable she couldn’t hear the words and was merely reading lips, Drew beamed at them, her face flushed and her eyes bright with unshed tears.
She’s a fucking angel.
Chapter Five
Drew
The sight of everyone in her small hospital room was almost too overwhelming for Drew. Never, in a million years, when she opened her eyes would she have ever expected all … this.
It had been a very long time since she’d even recognized her birthday, let alone celebrated it with a party. Now that she thought about it, she could barely even remember the last few birthdays … at least the ones since her mom had passed away. What a sad notion. A day that was meant solely for her, one to laugh and smile, one which was supposed to be full of love and joy, yet the last she could really remember was her twelfth. That was the final birthday her mom was alive, surprising Drew with a trip to Jackson for shopping and a concert.
Abruptly a hand waved at the foot of her bed, pulling her from the somber path her thoughts were taking. Looking up, Drew found Officer Marks peering at her, what she could only imagine was concern etched on his handsome face. Butterflies took flight in her stomach as she met his eyes once more. The memory of the emotions, the thoughts, that’d flitted between them earlier surfaced, making her want to shift her weight, to fidget. Something kept her still, though the want to fall into his gaze was strong. It took her a moment to realize his lips were moving, shaping familiar words that she had missed completely.
“I’m sorry, I missed everything you said,” she signed, his eyebrow arching before she shook her head and spoke aloud.
Hearing her admission, the handsome officer’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Don’t you like your cake?” he said slowly, nodding to the untouched plate in her lap.
Truth be told, she’d forgotten about it, her mind running a mile a minute as her body struggled. Drew didn’t want to admit that the pain medication she’d been given earlier had worn off somewhere between having her ribs rewrapped and being brought back to her room. She was exhausted – mentally and physically – yet she’d never yearned to be awake and aware more than she did now. She wanted to see the smiling faces surrounding her; she wanted to know who’d planned the gathering; she wanted Officer Marks to keep her company. More than anything, she didn’t want to sleep and wake, only to find it had all been a cruel dream.
A stab of pain as she took a deep breath pulled her back to reality. See, you aren’t dreaming – if you were, that wouldn’t hurt so bad, her subconscious chimed in helpfully. She shook her head slowly and met his gaze once more, surprised to find he’d moved closer.
“I forgot.”
“Do you need help? I can see you’re hurting.”
Drew was so enthralled by his lips, fascinated, it took her a second to grasp what he’d said. She glanced around, appeased no one else was paying attention, and let her body relax some, no longer working so hard to hide her hurt.
“Is it that obvious?” she asked aloud, hoping she was whispering. A part of her wanted not to talk at all, self-conscious of what she sounded like, but her instincts, and pride, kept her from doing so. Besides, she felt safe, comfortable, talking with the policeman, even if she didn’t understand the feeling. Moving even closer, he propped himself on the side of her bed and took the cake from her lap.
“Not to everyone, but to me, yes,” he answered before dropping his eyes to the cake and cutting a bite. Extending the fork to her, she tried to take it, attempting, and failing, to hide the strain on her face as she lifted her arm. To her amusement, he shook his head and opened his mouth, clearly instructing her to do the same. Nervous, she surveyed the room again before doing as he asked.
Their eyes locked as he delicately placed the small piece of cake into her mouth. She watched his gaze drop to her lips as she closed around the fork, stray smudges of icing escaping her. His hand raised almost immediately, his thumb wiping the frosting away before placing it in his own mouth to lick it away. Drew’s stomach flipped, her breath catching.
Stop it, Drew. You’re just a kid and he’s only being nice. Plus, he’s a cop – he wouldn’t be interested in an attempted murderer. Despite the truth of her thoughts, she still couldn’t shake the feelings coursing through her. For a moment, like so many others in her life, she wished she was someone else. This time for a different reason, but the wish was the same. If only she were older, perhaps someone important and certainly less damaged.
His hand came to rest on her leg, the heat of his palm warming her through the thin blanket that separated them. She knew a blush was beginning to color her cheeks, giving herself away, and she prayed he couldn’t see it through the bruising on her face. Just as she was about to say something, anything, he suddenly straightened. As soon as the weight of his hand lifted she missed it.
Confused by the sudden change in the man, she looked around him, finding her tw
in moving toward them. It was ironic that she wanted to tell him to go away so she could steal more of the confusing private time with the man beside her. Dean had always been her refuge, the person she ran to. Right then, though, she wished he was anywhere but there.
Officer Marks turned back to her, placing the barely eaten cake on a small rolling tray beside her. Reaching out, his fingers gently traced her chin as he tipped her face up to meet his. Kiss me, she mentally pleaded. Please? Kiss me. It was absurd, her desire for him to kiss her – she’d only just met him. She knew nothing about the man except that he was a cop in Chance, that he’d been there after she’d set the fire. Other than that, he was a complete mystery, a beautiful stranger she’d noticed around town a few times. She’d never spoken to him before, never been this close to him. Despite all that though, she still wanted him to kiss her. She would have stopped time itself if she could have, if it meant she’d feel his lips on hers.
“Happy birthday, beautiful Drew.”
Though she couldn’t hear his words, despite wishing with all her might she could, she felt his breath soft on her skin. Before she could even thank him, he’d gently kissed her cheek and stood. She wanted to scream, to grab him by the shirt and pull him back to her like she’d read of women doing in romance novels, but she didn’t, she couldn’t.
Instead Drew watched as he quickly shook hands with Dean, clapping him on the back in farewell. He said what she assumed were goodbyes to the remaining hospital staff and, as he reached the doorway, he turned to glance at her. A slight smile, along with a wink, were all she got before he turned and disappeared.
It seemed much larger in the small hospital space without the policeman inside. There was suddenly more oxygen, more air to breathe, but it also seemed darker, like a light had been switched off. That’s corny, Drew, seriously. Besides, like I already said: he’s not into you.
“What was that about?” Dean signed as he sat in the exact spot Officer Marks had been occupying.