He watched as his father moved away from Mandy. JT stopped breathing as he looked upon the bruised and battered body of the tiny woman in the bed. Mandy wouldn’t look at him, seeming to shrink away from him as he reached for her. JT could not bear her withdrawal from him. His heart stuttered. It felt as if a cold, heavy rock had fallen on his chest.
“No! Don’t you dare pull away from me,” JT almost shouted, his words coming from his mouth harsher than he had wanted.
He tried to catch hold of his emotions, forced himself to calm down and, after making sure he had full control over the tone of his voice, JT continued, “Mandy, I love you more than my own life, more than any life. Baby, please, I need you. Don’t pull away.” Sitting down in the spot his father had vacated, JT pulled Mandy into his arms. The longest ten hours of his life were finally over.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mandy could not believe how much better she felt now she was safe in JT’s arms. The things his father had said were so beautiful. Mandy found it difficult to believe that these men had gone to so much trouble to protect her, only to have her nearly get herself killed. JT was always so forthright and open in his love for her, never holding back. Mandy loved JT more than she could put into words. There were not enough colours in the world to replicate her emotions, even though her mind remained void—her colours seemed to have deserted her.
Brodie, having sweet-talked the nurses into allowing them access to the ward before the usual visiting hours, was now also inside the emotion-packed room. Mandy was overwhelmed that so many people were worried for her. Clearly shaken by the recent events, Brodie kissed her gently on the forehead before explaining that Caitlin would be back after she’d collected Riley.
“The boy’s finally fallen asleep. Cait said it took hours for him to settle down. June’s been watching over him. It’s heartbreaking, knowing how much that kid has lived through. One so young should not have had to deal with so much violence and death.”
Mandy agreed wholeheartedly with what Brodie had said, and couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was to blame for the most recent incident of Riley’s distress.
“Just stop that—I know what you’re thinking.” Reading the look on her face, Brodie was quick to jump in. “Riley is fine honey. Caitlin reckons he’s just a bit hyper—kid’s full of himself after all the praise he’s been getting from old Jon and the cops for his quick thinking. I just meant that Riley has already seen a lot for his age. But he’ll be all right. He’s got some good people around him. And Mandy, you are one of them. The kid really thinks the word of you. We all do.”
Brodie was also quick to praise Mandy, telling her how proud he had been to learn from one of the nurses, who had been speaking with a paramedic about the incident, that Mandy had given back as much as—if not more than—she had received. He added that the chatty nurse had also told him Con had screamed like a baby all the way to the hospital.
Mandy, the memory of the previous night now returning more clearly, shivered as she thought of what could have been. She was thankful that Riley had not been hurt in any way, and was glad he was being hailed a hero.
“Gotta say, Brodes, I owe the kid big time. Brave and smart little bugger, running for help like he did. I’ve always had a soft spot for him, but that spot has just turned into a whole lot more. He and I will be having a conversation real soon so I can tell him in person how much he’s done for me, how much I owe him.” JT’s words still sounded choked and emotional, as if he was straining to keep control. Mandy was close to tears again at feeling so much love surrounding her.
“Talking about debt—hey, Pop, I owe you one too.” JT turned to his father and embraced him in a big, slightly awkward-looking, hug. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you did for Mandy—for me and Mandy—for my sanity. I just thank God you were there for her, even when I wasn’t. You look beat, Dad. Go home, get some rest. You’ve been here all night. I’ve got it from here. And…I love you, Pop.”
Mandy watched, struggling to hold back her emotions as JT and his father embraced like two big bears, in what JT told Mandy later was the first real hug he had ever shared with his father.
* * * *
A tired Mandy, her arm still very painful, rested in JT’s embrace. Her head was pillowed on the familiar and comforting expanse of his broad chest. He had stretched out next to her on the hospital bed. Brodie had stayed and was asleep in the chair beside the bed—both men looked worn out. Mandy wasn’t sure if JT was awake or not. His breathing was steady and, comforted by the rhythm, she finally drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
It seemed only minutes before Mandy was awoken by the gentle touch of a nurse, who then checked her pulse and blood pressure. The smiling woman shook her head at the sight of the two large men sprawled out in the hospital room. The nurse informed Mandy that her name was Sally, and that she was about to perform a foetal heart monitor test on ‘the bub’.
Sally reassured Mandy that the test was nothing to worry about—just routine, part of normal hospital procedures.
“My son is going to be green with envy when I tell him about you, Ms Magenta. He’s a mad Jets fan, and hearing that some of his heroes were sleeping in one of my wards will make me quite popular, I think!” Sally laughed as she went about setting up the monitor.
“Please, call me Mandy. Yes, those two do seem to make a room seem smaller, don’t they?” Mandy chuckled at the nurse’s words, her own laugh now sounding quite foreign to her ears. “I’m sure JT will be happy to hear your son is a Jets fan. He enjoys meeting or making time for his young fans.”
Before long they could hear the rapid sound of a heartbeat, loud and clear. Mandy was so relieved, reassured to hear the beautiful noise. JT’s child had a strong and steady heartbeat. She felt JT’s arms squeeze her a little tighter. He was now obviously awake and had heard the quick, strong sounds as well. Mandy noticed Brodie was also awake, still sitting in the chair, but now leaning forwards with his hands on his knees, looking enthralled.
“Wow, that’s just amazing! Is that the baby’s heartbeat? Mandy, JT—that is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. But don’t tell Caitlin I said that!” Brodie added sheepishly.
“I thought you big, tough football players would be different, but you’re really just big softies.” Nurse Sally laughed at Brodie.
“James might be soft, but I’m as tough as they come. Just like my kid,” JT growled back at the nurse. Mandy smiled, tears in her eyes but brimming with happiness.
The good-natured banter really lightened the mood. Eventually, they were all laughing aloud. Mandy thought it was a good sound after the night they had all been through. Tensions seemed to have slipped away. So as June, Caitlin and Riley peeked around the door, still full of concern, they were greeted by a roomful of light-hearted laughter.
Mandy’s doctor came later that day to check on her, only to find half the Jets team camped in her room. Mandy could tell that it was causing quite a disturbance, since the hallway outside her hospital room was filled with staff, other patients and visitors hovering around, hoping for an autograph or just a glimpse of the local sporting heroes. The doctor himself sheepishly obtained a few autographs for his son.
The doc was even promised tickets to the final in exchange for letting the rabble ‘break JT’s missus out of hospital’, as they put it, much to Mandy’s embarrassment. She was so overwhelmed with all the support JT’s friends were giving her.
The doctor—in a serious tone, but with a big smile—told the group he could not be influenced in making a decision when the health of such an important patient was at stake. The doctor’s statement brought forth cheers of “Hear, hear!” and “Good for you!” from the rowdy group. He did inform Mandy that she would be allowed to go home as soon as she felt up to it—which was now, she had replied quickly.
As the last group of well-wishers left the room, Nurse Sally came in with Mandy’s discharge papers.
“Time to go home,
dear, but you will need to take it easy for a while. Ring and make a follow-up appointment with Outpatients for your arm early next week, and thank you for organising all the autographs. My Josh will be over the moon.”
Sitting in the wheelchair as she was transported to the front door—part of hospital policy—Mandy, for the first time, gave some thought to returning to her flat. The idea was so harrowing that she shivered noticeably. JT, having just pulled his car up to the entrance, looked at her and immediately sensed something was wrong, his face becoming a mask of concern.
“Mags, honey, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind spending a few days at my place? I think Dad needs you around—he’s been so upset over all that’s happened. I still don’t understand why he feels so responsible. I think he wants to pamper you a little. It’s been a long time since he opened up and showed anyone his feelings. I still can’t believe I saw the old man cry. What do you say, you okay with that?”
Mandy would have kissed him if her broken arm had not been in the way. The last thing she felt like doing was going back to that flat in Ashfield. In fact, Mandy didn’t think she ever would, and she told JT how she felt. As he gently lifted her into the car, he assured her that it was fine with him if she never went back, just so long as she was always with him. His comforting touch and understanding of her fears was almost as good as any prescription painkiller.
* * * *
Jon Senior had seemed genuinely delighted at the news that Mandy was moving in, and maybe not just temporarily. He welcomed her warmly with a tentative hug and kiss to the forehead, enthusiastically offering to convert the back sunroom into a studio so she could resume her art whenever she felt up to it. He mentioned that he and the police officers who had been called to the Ashfield flat had been quite impressed by her artwork, especially the nudes of a very familiar-looking body, and that he had been wondering if the one of the somewhat large male appendage had been modelled for.
Mandy was a little embarrassed by his comment about her teenage attempt at painting a penis—which she had done mostly to shock her parents—but she was proud of her sketches of JT, knowing she had captured well the strength and power of not just his body, but the whole man.
Caitlin and Riley arrived not long after Mandy, both keen to check up on her. They appeared saddened by her decision not to return to Ashfield, but both admitted that they understood why.
Mandy had been wondering why JT had not been to training in three days. The Jets had won, which did mean they had a week off, but she was surprised they weren’t training at all. She mentioned this to Caitlin as her friend was settling her into bed, and noticed that Caitlin looked uncomfortable.
“Okay, what’s going on, Cait? Spill.”
Caitlin took a deep breath, as if mulling over whether to answer Mandy, before replying, “When they were in Brisbane—after you got hurt—JT told Brodie he was retiring from playing. He blames the game and himself for being away that night, sweetie. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but I’d want to know if I were you.”
Mandy could not believe what she was hearing, and was furious with JT. Why would he give up now, so close to the end of the season and with such a good chance at winning the whole damn competition? Mandy was not going to let that happen, and she shouted very loudly for JT to get into their room, quick smart.
Caitlin, probably deciding that was her cue to leave, kissed JT lightly on the cheek and told him it had been nice knowing him as she hurried from the room, leaving an obviously confused and worried JT in the doorway.
* * * *
JT stood and listened to his little fireball as she told him that he was not giving up the game he loved for her, not now she was safe. Con was probably going away for years because of all the charges against him—including attempted murder, as June and Jon Senior had been witnesses, first-hand, to his threats. Mandy went on to list to him how she was just starting to understand the infernal game, and asked him how he could dare to quit now. She was really giving him what for, and all JT could think of doing was kissing her adorable mouth. He heard the sound of his father chuckling behind him—Jon Senior had also come running, worried at the sound of Mandy’s shouts.
JT walked slowly all the way into the room and shut the door behind him. He held up both hands in surrender and laughed. Probably not the smartest move, really, he thought, too late to stop the book Mandy had been reading from hitting him in the shoulder.
“Ouch, that hurt!” Mandy cried, as the action of throwing the book jolted her broken arm.
“Okay! I surrender, woman! Don’t hurt me or yourself anymore.” JT laughed. “I will go back to training tomorrow. But we will discuss our future and what I do next season together. What do you think?”
JT didn’t give Mandy the chance to answer him. He took possession of her mouth carefully, kissing her into silence and perhaps submission. It certainly seemed to work in his favour, as Mandy was immediately distracted from the argument.
JT decided that he would remember this form of defence for any future disagreements.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The rest of the week seemed to crawl by for Mandy. She was so frustrated at her own lack of mobility—she even needed help to do the most personal of things, such as wash and dress. It was tough not being able to work, as her art was often the best way for her to dispel any unsettling emotions. She found that if she let her mind wander for too long, the events of her attack would come rushing back, often leaving her shaky and panic-stricken in response.
But trying to keep herself busy was frustratingly impossible. She had decided to take up the advice from JT’s dad and seek some victims counselling, to help her not only get past her most recent ordeal, but put the entire disastrous relationship with Con behind her and to get on with the rest of her life.
JT, on the other hand, was taking everything in his stride. He was happy to aid her in any way, and nothing fazed him. Nothing was too much trouble—nothing except what she wanted most of all. Needed.
Mandy was sexually frustrated. Having enjoyed JT’s insatiable appetite before the attack, she was worried—actually, ‘worried’ was too mild a word to describe it. Mandy was terrified. JT was acting as if he was not interested in sex at all. Well, not sex with her, anyway. Yes, he cuddled her possessively every night, pulling her bottom tight against his erection, soothing her if she awoke terrorised by her dreams—but nothing else ever happened.
Mandy had tried taking things into her own hand, so to speak. But with only one good hand and various parts of her anatomy still bruised, she was clumsy and ineffectual in her art of seduction. JT, rather than taking the hint and perhaps helping her out, just seemed unaware of her intentions. Mandy didn’t know what to do. She was worried that maybe JT didn’t want her anymore. She’d begun to question his motives—what if he was too disgusted by all the drama of the attack, and was only staying with her out of a sense of obligation? But that didn’t account for his constant erection.
She was too embarrassed to actually talk to him about their lack of intimacy. He was already doing so much for her—cooking, cleaning, helping her to bathe and dress. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. JT had also resumed his training schedule with the Jets team. Perhaps he’s just worn out, Mandy tried to convince herself. “Yeah, right—as if that ever stopped him before,” she actually answered herself.
She was muttering under her breath as she sat struggling to eat her cereal with her right hand, which was her wrong hand. Jon Senior looked up from the paper he was reading and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner.
“Did you say something, Mandy?”
“Oh, no. Just thinking out loud, Mr Thomson.”
“I wish you would call me something else, honey. ‘Jon’, or maybe even ‘Dad’, if you like. I’d be honoured to think you might one day see me that way.” Jon Senior tenderly placed his big, warm hand over Mandy’s smaller one.
Hormones were a terrible thing. Mandy, unable to control hers from one minute to th
e next, started crying again at the man’s heartfelt words. As she wiped her teary eyes on the sleeve of her unbroken arm, Mandy managed to sob in reply, “I’d really love to call you ‘Dad’, if that’s okay. You are that in my heart already.”
“Good, it’s settled then, daughter,” Jon Senior replied, then quickly picked up his newspaper and held it up, as if to block his own emotional face from her view.
The sound of knocking at the door ended their sentimentally charged conversation.
“I’ll get it,” Mandy said as she stood up, carefully trying not to move her still painful left arm. The plaster cast helped with keeping the arm immobile, but Mandy was still refusing any pain medication. It was a relief, though, that the pain seemed to be receding more each day.
It was a nice surprise to see Caitlin standing at the door, holding two large cups of what appeared to be coffee.
“I thought you could use a cup, and a chat. Decaf for you and the bub, though! How are you doing, Mandy?” Caitlin asked as she moved through the open doorway, handing Mandy one of the cups as she tilted the other in mock salute.
“Well! Getting sick of everyone asking me that question.” Mandy laughed ruefully as she took the coffee from Caitlin and touched the cup to Caitlin’s as if to say cheers. “Who knew you could miss caffeine so much? But decaf is better than nothing, I guess,” she said as she took a hesitant sip. “I’m doing okay, Cait. Sick of myself and the fact I’m so useless at the moment…but getting stronger each day. C’mon in—let’s go sit down,” Mandy said. She led the way to the family room and took a seat on the sofa, gesturing for Caitlin to join her. “How’s Riley?”
“Riley is fine. He is still strutting around like a puffed-out peacock, so full of himself after JT made such a fuss over him. Not to mention the way Brodie has been clucking around him…and of course, June and the police telling him he’s a hero. It all adds to his now overinflated ego.”
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