“Don’t worry about me,” he mumbled, his voice a little slurred. “I’m fine.”
He was not fine. Underneath all the bruises, he had gone paler than a ghost, and I could feel his body shuddering out of control. I had to get him to safety fast.
After a while I felt a little more comfortable allowing us a few breaks to catch our breaths, but they were short and far in between. We were both thirsty and at one point, ignoring the risks, we drank from a puddle on the forest floor. God only knew how much bacteria and germs we ingested.
Jem had gone quieter as the day went on. By the time evening was falling, and with it the darkness of twilight, he had stopped talking altogether. The popping sounds from his lungs had grown louder and he was assailed by more frequent bouts of coughing. I searched around us for a shelter of some kind, but the best I could find was the bottom of a large tree surrounded by bushes. The thick bushes provided a protection from the breeze, and also from predators of the animal or human kind.
As gently as I could, I laid Jem down on the grassy area at the base of the tree, leaning against its trunk. His head lolled forward as if he had lost all control of it. “Jem, Jem,” I yelled in a panic, holding his chin up. “Are you okay?”
Movement of his swollen eyelids told me he was still conscious. “Just tired.” His voice came out raspy.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and drew him into a hug. “Hell, Jem! Never a dull moment with you,” I whispered in his ear.
I heard him giggle softly. “That’s me. Mr. Entertainment.”
I settled myself next to him against the tree. We were pretty sheltered from sight, but it was getting cold. As with most typical spring weather, the warm day had given way to much colder temperatures at night. I pulled Jem to me so our bodies were touching. We were going to need all the heat we could get, and our flimsy indoor clothes were not going to help us.
“Are you getting frisky with me?” His words came out with difficulty.
I laughed. “Yes, because you look so sexy with all those bruises. Now shut up and sleep. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”
Jem’s head dropped lower until it was resting on my breast, but instead of chiding him, I brought my hand up to his cheek and held it closer. I wanted to give him my warmth, to offer him a little extra life force through the beating of my heart. Be well, Jem. Please, hold on.
When my eyes fluttered open, the sun peeked shyly through the leaves of the trees. In spite of the cold and the lack of any comfort, I had slept all night. I looked down at Jem, still leaning on my chest, and my heart jumped to my throat. He was so pale it was like all the blood had drained from his face. As if he were dead.
My hand went straight to his neck to search for a pulse. “Jem, wake up,” I yelled, forgetting that we wanted to remain undetectable. “Shit, Jeremy Peter, wake the fuck up!”
I felt a small movement underneath my hand. “I must look as bad as I feel.” He covered my hand with his. He was very cold. “For you to curse like that. Am I dead?”
A great sob escaped my lips and I pulled him into a hug. He whimpered in my arms. “Sorry,” I whispered in between sobs. “Didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you were….” I couldn’t even say it out loud. Oh God! I loved this man. I loved him so much it hurt. Literally. My chest felt as if someone were sitting on it.
“Not that I want to,” he said, coughing. “But shouldn’t we be going?”
Against all odds, we managed to make our way through the woods undisturbed and alive. By the middle of the day we reached a main road. I sat Jem down on a big rock and walked to the edge of the road to try and catch the attention of a passing car.
No one stopped. Not that I blamed them. I doubted I would stop for a stranger waving madly from the side of the road. I had almost given up when a police car came around the bend and stopped on the shoulder just a few yards from where we were. I ran to it.
The police officer came to help me bring Jem to the cruiser and before I knew it, he was driving us to the nearest hospital. On my way there, I relayed to him what had happened and asked him to call Detective Jarvas, who would be more qualified to explain the whole insidious affair.
“Glad to hear you’re alive, girl,” the detective said when he heard my voice on the line. “You gave us all a scare. How’s your young man?”
“He’s in bad shape,” I told him. “He was beaten pretty badly.” My voice caught as reality sank in. Jem was slumped over the backseat, hardly conscious. “I’m very scared for him.”
“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Jarvas said. “I’ll call your sister and let her know you’re okay. She’s been driving us all crazy.”
That got a giggle out of me. I could only imagine. “We’ll see you at the hospital.”
Jem was immediately admitted and taken away from me on a stretcher with doctors and nurses hovering over him in droves. I watched him be wheeled away with a heavy heart. I started following, but a nurse held me back. “They need to check him,” she said. “And you need to be checked as well. You’re bleeding.”
Blood did indeed run down my arm. I couldn’t even remember hurting myself. A scratch from a tree or a bush, most likely. It was nothing compared to the bleeding in my heart. Nothing at all.
In a small room in the ER, I was finally left alone after being fussed over by a legion of doctors. There was really nothing wrong with me other than a few scratches, bruises, and exhaustion. I had been practically carrying Jem for the past almost twenty-four hours. Apparently I was stronger than I had ever believed I was.
My eyes had closed and I might have been dozing, when I heard my sister’s familiar voice. “Where is my crazy sister?”
I opened my eyes just in time to see her push her way through the nurses trying to block her from coming in the room. “She’s resting.”
“She can rest after I tell her just what I think of her,” my sister said, her voice high and angry. She walked all the way to the bed and, after a quick look, threw her arms around me in a bear hug. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Her arms were cutting my air. “I can’t breathe, Celia,” I whimpered.
Her arms loosened. “Sorry. I was just so worried,” she said. “Mom and Dad are on their way from Florida.”
I sighed and tilted my head. “No, why did you tell them? I didn’t want them to worry.”
“What if you died? How was I supposed to explain that to them? ‘Sorry, Mom and Dad, we just didn’t want to worry you.’ It wouldn’t go down well.”
She sat on the edge of the bed, and we talked quietly for a few moments. “You should have listened to Marcy. She was right.”
Scary as it was, she had been right. Coincidence? Or was the little witch actually capable of predicting things? “It happened right after she called.” The image of the fallen officers popped in my mind. “The cops… are they dead? They were really nice men….”
Celia placed a hand on my shoulder. “They’re okay. Or they will be,” she said. “They’re recovering from their injuries, but they’re expected to make a full recovery.”
“Thank goodness.” I sighed. “This has been crazy.”
Celia’s eyes softened, and her voice went down to a whisper. “How’s Jem?”
For the hundredth time this week I burst into tears. Celia gave me a hug. “I don’t know,” I said. “They haven’t told me yet. He was beaten to a pulp, Celia…. I’m so scared I’m going to lose him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Celia cooed. “He’s freaking strong. And stubborn. He’ll be all right. I just know it.”
A young nurse popped her head in the doorway. “Miss Lambert, you have a visitor.”
Much to my surprise, Dave walked in, all six feet six of him, a big bouquet of flowers in his hands and the usual gorgeous smile on his lips. “Hi, sweetheart. May I come in?”
Since when was he so formal around me? “Of course. Come in.”
His hug and his kiss were awkward, but sweet. “I’m so glad
you’re okay,” he said. “I should have been there to protect you. I feel so stupid.”
“Dave, you were working.” I held his hand in mine. “There was no way to know what was going to happen.”
“Still… I feel guilty.” I noticed my sister’s silence. Was she still rooting for Jem? She used to like Dave a lot. Why wasn’t she saying anything?
Then, as Dave leaned over to kiss me gently on the lips, it hit me—the realization that in all this time, through everything that had happened, I hadn’t given Dave a single thought. Not even once!
***
No matter how many times I told myself Jem was going to be fine, the worry had settled itself in the bottom of my stomach like a rock. All the antacids in the world weren’t going to help me. The doctor had told me he was suffering from Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome. I had immediately googled ARDS to find out more information. I was not happy with what I found.
I walked down the hallway of the hospital, dragging my IV up to the ICU where Jem was being kept for treatment and observation. I hadn’t seen him since we brought him to the hospital, almost two days ago. When questioned, the doctors and nurses had thrown all kinds of words and acronyms at me—arterial blood gas tests, X-rays, bronchoscopy, CTs…. All it meant was Jem was very, very sick.
I gave my IV stand an impatient push. They had me on fluids and antibiotics because apparently I had been dehydrated when I first arrived in the ER and my blood cultures had come back positive for bacteria. As many times as I told them I was okay and I could drink my fluids instead of having them injected into my veins, no one was listening. Not even Celia, who had camped at the hospital, only taking breaks to go change clothes at home.
“But home is still almost fifty miles from here, Celia,” I had told her. “What about your job?”
“They’ve given me some time off to be here with you,” she had said. “And what’s fifty miles when your sister and her best buddy need you?”
Dave’s visits were pretty frequent as well. For the past two days, he had faithfully showed up for each of the two assigned visiting times in the ward. It didn’t help. I was glad to see him, but it also made me feel guilty that my thoughts and my heart had been exclusively preoccupied with Jem and not him.
Jem’s still extremely bruised and swollen face was visible from outside his glass-enclosed room. He had been put on a ventilator system, and tubes seemed to come out from every part of his body to connect him with all kinds of machines. The swelling had marginally subsided, and I could now see his beautiful blue eyes. I stood at the door, almost afraid to go in.
“Are you coming in, or are you just going to hold that doorway for the rest of the day?” he said, his voice throaty and hoarse.
I walked in, a forced smile plastered across my face. “You’re looking better,” I said, coming to settle myself on the edge of his bed. “I can see your eyes.”
He giggled. “Yeah, I can actually see now,” he joked. “Is that your new fashion accessory?” he asked, pointing at the IV.
“It’s all the rage amongst young people now.” I studied his face. He had tubes stuck to his nose and his veins, wires connecting his chest and his fingers to monitors, bandages covering most of his stomach and his head. “You should try it. It would go well with that mummy look you’re going for.”
He raised his hand and I held it, my fingers wrapping hungrily around his. “Are you really doing okay?” he asked, his gaze holding mine.
I nodded, not wanting to talk for fear of crying again. It was becoming a very bad habit. “I was so worried about you.” And I still am, you fool.
With a little squeeze of my hand, he let me know he was too even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. “The doctors say I’ll be fine. Just got to kick this ARDS, whatever that is. Leave it to docs to make everything sound so complicated. What’s the IV for?”
We talked for a little while, me trying to get him up to speed on what had transpired, and him trying to convince me that this condition of his was nothing to be concerned about. Detective Jarvas had told me this morning that he was now convinced there was a mole in the department. Otherwise, how had they been able to figure out where we were hiding? He was putting together a plan to protect us from further problems until they caught the culprit—which, according to him, should be happening any day—but in the meantime, he had posted guards around the hospital just to be safe.
“Celia can’t wait to see you,” I told him. “She’s been driving the whole hospital staff crazy with questions about your health.”
Jem laughed, causing him to cough. “I can’t wait to see her, too. I’m so glad you have her to help you through all of this.” What he left unsaid was he was also happy I’d had my sister to help me through the five years without him. I felt a little pinch of the old anger in my heart.
“Dave was here also,” I added, just as a barb. “He should be here soon, actually. I’m sure he’s going to want to see you.” Not!
His fingers tightened around mine and he brought my hand to his lips. “I’m so sorry, Emily Rose.” I wasn’t sure if he was asking for forgiveness for disappearing from my life or for involuntarily involving me in this mess.
“So this is where you hide to avoid your sister.” Celia was standing at the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in her hand and a giant Mylar balloon in the shape of a syringe with the words “Get Well” written on it. “I’ve looked for you everywhere.”
Jem’s face brightened. “Hey, Celia, so good to see you,” he said, a smile on his lips.
My sister walked in, set the bouquet on a table, and came to kiss Jem gently on the forehead, possibly the only unbruised spot on his face. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you alive and talking.” She plopped herself down on the chair on the other side of the bed. “You look absolutely awful. What did you do? Have a fight with a truck and the truck won?”
“Not too far from the truth,” he said, chuckling. “Those guys were built like trucks, that’s for sure. I still can’t believe we actually escaped. What the hell was in that bottle, Em?”
“Beats me,” I replied, my hand going automatically to where the bottle used to hang. “Marcy came through though. Bravo to the witch.”
“You may want to tell her that when she comes to see you guys,” Celia said. “She’s been down on herself because she wasn’t able to warn you of the danger sooner.”
A spark of guilt lit up in my chest. “Well, chances are I would’ve never believed her. Even after what happened I’m still having trouble believing it all.”
“I told you she was the real thing,” Celia protested.
A noise from the doorway made us all look up. Dave was standing there with a teddy bear crushed against his chest and looking just a little forlorn. “Hi, guys,” he said, finally. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing the party.”
Instinctively I dropped Jem’s hand. “Of course we don’t mind. Come in.” I sounded just a little too chirpy. My guilty conscience was giving me a hard time.
Dave took a couple long steps and kissed me on the lips, long and hard. I didn’t dare look at Jem for fear of what I may read in his expression. When our lips separated, my face was burning and I felt a sudden need to dig a huge hole to hide in. Get it together, woman. This is your boyfriend, after all. But the beaten-up man witnessing this hot kiss was Jem. It just didn’t feel right.
Turning to Jem, Dave smiled and offered his hand for a shake. Jem, hesitantly at first, lifted his hand to him. “How are you doing, Jeremy?” Dave said, shaking the IV-connected hand a bit too enthusiastically. “I want to thank you for being there for my girl when I wasn’t.”
The irony of those words did not escape Jem, whose lips curved into a little smile. “That was my pleasure,” he replied with a sly glance in my direction. I fought the urge to stick my tongue out at him again. “Nice of you to come and see us.”
“How could I not?” Dave said, his hand cradling the back of my head in a caress. “This is my favorite girl, a
nd I wasn’t there when she needed me. Can’t tell you how guilty I feel.”
“All right, all right,” Celia exclaimed, waving her hands. “Enough of this guilt fest. No one is to blame for this mess other than the freaking criminals who did all this. So stop this I-feel-so-guilty crap and let’s have some fun.”
We all stared at her, surprised and confused. “Fun? We’re at the hospital. What are you talking about?” I asked the question burning on everybody’s tongue.
From her gigantic bag, Celia produced a deck of cards. “There are four of us. Poker, anyone?” she said with a grin.
Jem lifted his arm up in the air, rattling all the wires and tubes attached to him. “I say we play strip poker,” he said. “Not that I have many clothing items to remove but again, I don’t intend to lose.”
Dave looked at him and then at me, as if wondering whether Jem was serious or joking. I laughed. “He couldn’t be more serious,” I said. “I think they’re giving him some strong meds.”
We played poker—the regular kind—until a nurse came to shoo us out of the room. It was time for some more tests and for Jem to rest. In spite of his strong protests, we all left the room and went to sit in a visiting area nearby. Dave had looped his arm around my waist and held me protectively against him all the time. My guilt only grew with each caress, each word of concern. Oh my God, what had I gotten myself into?
Celia had gone off to bug the doctors about my care—or so she claimed. I suspected she had a crush on one of the young residents on my ward. I was left alone with Dave, my heart beating fast from the anxiety. It caused me to feel I was lying to him. Even though I really wasn’t. I did love Dave. Very much. But not like I loved Jem. I didn’t think I would ever be able to love anyone ever again the way I loved my best friend.
“When I think of what could have happened to you, I feel so angry,” Dave said, his hands holding mine. “I just don’t know what I would do if I lost you.”
Not helping the guilt trip, Dave. Not helping at all.
“Nothing happened.” Other than Jem being beaten within an inch of his life. “I’m fine and I should be going home very soon. I miss my class and my own bed.”
Loved You Always Page 13