When Worlds Collide (My Kind Of Country Book 3)

by M. Lynne Cunning

  She swallowed back the rising anger and found what she had been looking for.

  Matthew Gerard.

  She didn’t know Mr. Gerard, but she damn well had a lot to say to him. Ignoring the time of day, Katie memorized the number for the newspaper’s office and closed down the browser. She dialed the number without hesitation.

  “The Tennessean. This is Mark.”

  Katie stifled a gasp. She hadn’t expected anyone to answer at this hour. “Oh. Umm, I didn’t think you were open,” she replied awkwardly.

  “We’re not.” Mark didn’t sound overly impressed to be answering the phone this late, either.

  “Oh, right. Well, I’m looking to speak with Matthew Gerard, actually.”

  “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

  That took Katie back, her forehead crinkling in confusion. “He’s one of your photographers, isn’t he?”

  She could practically hear Mark rolling his eyes at her. “Lady, if he was, I would know about it. I am the senior editor.”

  Great, so this guy hated his job and had a God complex. “You ran an article a few days ago. In the Entertainment Section. It was on Chad Kir—Ashton. Chad Ashton. The photo accompanying that article is credited to a Matthew Gerard. Does that ring any bells?” Mark wasn’t the only one who could be testy.

  There was a moment of quietness on the other line, then, “One second.” Suddenly, the chorus of Miranda Lambert’s Vice was blaring in her ear.

  She’d been put on hold.

  When the music abruptly stopped, Mark was huffing and puffing in her ear. “Matthew Gerard doesn’t actually work here. The guy is a freelance photographer. Privately paid. Not on our dime, hence the reason I didn’t recognize the name.”

  She thought she heard a faint apologetic tone to his explanation, but it sure wasn’t much of an apology for his attitude. “So, how did your newspaper get the photograph, then?”

  “It was submitted to us. Look, am I missing something here?” Mark’s accent flared with sudden suspicion.

  “No, but I obviously am,” Katie mumbled. “Thank you for your time, Mark.”

  She hung up unceremoniously. Maybe it was a rude gesture, but it wasn’t like he’d been overly friendly with her to begin with.

  The photo of her and Chad in what looked like a steamy embrace outside his apartment building had been taken by a freelance photographer and submitted to the newspaper. That didn’t make sense to Katie. Sure, Chad was someone that would have photographers following him and reporters interviewing him, but why would a freelance photographer be stationed outside his apartment? The better question was, how did a photographer end up there, on that night, just in time to snag that picture? It all seemed too opportune.

  And Katie no longer believed in coincidences.

  She tapped the browser button again, punching Matthew Gerard’s name into the Google search bar this time. Not surprisingly, a website was listed for the freelance photographer. She clicked the link, holding her breath as she waited for it to load. When the page loaded to reveal an artistic-looking website with a small headshot of a thickly bearded man holding a Nikon camera, she let out her breath all at once, relieved that she didn’t recognize him.

  She scrolled idly through his website until her gaze fell on something she did recognize. A testimonial.

  This guy has more talent than anyone I’ve ever met. There’s a reason we call him when we need artwork or ideas for albums covers. He’s the man to go to if you want it done right.

  It wasn’t the testimonial itself that caused her breath to catch in her throat, though. It was the name underneath it, the one who had given the glaring praise.

  Jonathan Khunes, Mercury Records.

  “Christ,” Katie whispered to herself. The room was beginning to tilt slightly, and she set her phone down to grip the table more readily. Far too quickly, the pieces were falling into place, revealing an answer to a puzzle she wished she’d never solved.

  Damn you, Jay. You set me up.

  She didn’t want to believe it, but there was no denying it. After everything Jay had said and done since leaving her for Liz—since she had fallen in love with Chad—Katie was no longer blinded by Jay’s promises and manipulations. She didn’t want to, but she did believe it. It was the only thing that made sense. He’d told her to go to Chad’s place that night, having already hired his colleague to stake out the apartment. Jay had no reservations about whether or not she would actually go to him. Of course she would. And he’d used her own weakness against her.

  What was worse was the fact that he’d arranged for the newspapers to have the photo printed. Hell, she didn’t doubt that Jay himself was the eyewitness listed in the article corroborating that Chad Ashton and his new love interest hadn’t left the apartment all night. While that was actually the truth, the invasion of privacy and lack of context turned the story into something it wasn’t.

  And Jay had purposely shown Mason the newspaper story. If she hadn’t been appalled by the underhandedness of his actions thus far, deliberately bringing Mason into the mix was the last straw.

  Now, two hours later, she sat in the waiting room with Chad’s mother to her left and his father and sister to her right, not sure what to say to them. What could you say to the family of the man who had almost been killed by your actions and those of your manipulative ex-fiancé?

  “Hey, the armchair is yours if you want it.”

  Katie looked up into Barry’s soft eyes. He’d taken a turn in Chad’s room and, by the rumpled look of his jacket and the creases on his right cheek, he’d nodded off to sleep. “Warmed it up for me, did you?”

  Amusement shone in his eyes. “If Chad were awake, he’d have wanted me to shut up, anyway.”

  Even twenty-four hours ago, such a comment would have stung them both, but Katie pulled her coat from the chair beside her with only a solemn shrug in response. They were all adjusting to the shock of the situation, to the fact that Chad was still here without being here. Even if it did rip them apart from the inside out.

  That realization scared her more than anything.

  ***

  Katie stepped lightly into Chad’s hospital room, though she wasn’t quite sure why she was tiptoeing around. Her movements weren’t likely to wake him. Still, she moved about slowly and carefully, leaving the door open only an inch or so before settling into the armchair beside his bed.

  She draped her jacket over her thighs, but it didn’t help much against the temperature in the room. Whether it was actually cold or not, she wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just her. She was nervous, though there was nothing to be nervous about. It made her uneasy to even raise her eyes to look at him. Maybe it wasn’t nervousness after all. Guilt was probably the likelier culprit for her clammy skin and somersaulting stomach.

  “Hi,” she whispered weakly. She said it as quietly as she could, but her voice still sounded loud in the overpowering silence of the room. The only sound keeping her company was the rhythmic bleep of the monitors surrounding Chad’s unmoving body. She swallowed back the lump in her throat, casting a quick glance at the door to confirm no one else was nearby to overhear.

  “Mason wants to come and see you.” Katie could already feel the tears welling hotly on her bottom eyelids. “I wasn’t sure if you would want him to. Not yet, anyway.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to, either, if I’m being honest. You know me, way too overprotective.”

  Katie faltered again, second-guessing her train of thought. Christ, what if Chad could hear her? The last thing he needed was to listen to her admit she was scared to have her own son see him. If he was awake, she knew very well that he would want to see Mason. That was the dividing factor, however. Chad wasn’t awake, and she couldn’t bring herself to let Mason see him unconscious. No matter how optimistic and hopeful she wanted to be, the rational side of her couldn’t allow her to let Mason see Chad in such a condition, purely for fear that it may be the last. />
  “Your family is really something, Chad,” she said in an attempt to switch topics. As soon as she uttered the words, though, she regretted them. She would have to tread lightly, not wanting to upset him if he could hear her. “Your mom and dad really seem to have taken a shine to Mason. They didn’t strike me as the kind of people who played Crazy Eights, but Mason’s got them playing hand after hand now. Oh, and Mason’s won every round. He would want you to know that.” She smiled softly through her sadness, searching Chad’s bruised face for any signs of comprehension.

  “Your sister seems nice,” she continued. “She’s so much like you. Mason even noticed how much the two of you look alike. I know, I know. This is where you’d tell me how lucky she is to have such dashing good looks like yours.” Katie chuckled quietly, but it caught it her throat. In that moment, she would have given anything to see Chad’s crooked hint of a smile, or hear his infectious laughter that usually accompanied it.

  “Don’t leave me.” The words escaped her throat before she could think them through. “Please, don’t go, Chad.” Tears finally overflowed from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. All the emotions she’d kept at bay, all the hours of keeping her expression neutral and her fears internalized, came pouring from within her. Katie slid her hand slowly across the bed sheet and interlocked her fingers with his, minding the intravenous line piercing the back of his hand. She squeezed his hand lightly and waited, but a similar squeeze didn’t come in response.

  “I am so sorry. So sorry.” Katie let her head fall forward, her forehead pressing against the side of the bed, beside their entwined hands. “You can’t begin to understand how much I would want to do things over if I could. I’d be with you from the beginning, instead of running from you out of fear. I was always so scared of...everything. Scared of what everyone would think. Scared of how my choices would affect Mason. Scared of retaliation from Jay. Scared to be happy.”

  She lifted her head to stare at his closed eyelids, imagining she could see the soft blue eyes hidden beneath them. “A lot of good that did me, huh? Not only did I hurt you in the wake of it all, emotionally and physically, but I put your life in danger. Chad, I may as well have been driving that truck myself. It’s my fault you’re here right now. We should be building our life together, but because of me, instead you’re fighting for your own.”

  Sobs wracked her body, and Katie had to lower her head onto the edge of the bed once more. She struggled to breathe through the onslaught of emotion that erupted from her. Sorrow pressed down on her shoulders so heavily she thought she might never be able to lift her forehead from the cool sheets again. “Please, just keep fighting,” she begged desperately through another wave of hot tears. “I don’t have the right to ask anything of you. But, damn it, Chad, please keep fighting. Please.”

  She continued to cry. Once the tears finally came, Katie didn’t think they would ever stop. Her mind raced. All the things she should have done and should have said. Then, she thought of all the things Chad had done and had said.

  Her cell phone suddenly became a noticeable weight within the back pocket of her jeans. He’d pleaded with her in a text, begging her not to marry Jay. I love you too much for that. His words now haunted her, a ghost among the truths and the catastrophic endings that taunted what was left of what she and Chad could have been, could still be.

  “Don’t you die on me, Chad Kirkwood. Because I love you too much for that, too.” Her voice came out as no more than a whisper, and her fingers were still entwined with his when she closed her eyes and finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

  Chapter Six

  To some, a week is a short amount of time. To others, it can span the distance of forever under the right circumstances. But seven full days of watching, waiting, and waiting some more, for something, anything, and nothing to happen? That caused the span of a week to transform into a cruel form of torture.

  Dr. Vale repeatedly assured Katie and his family members that the lack of surprises was a good thing. It was such a good thing, in fact, that the staff had begun the process of lifting Chad’s medically induced coma. The apprehension and speculation that followed the doctor’s decision managed to heighten the moods of Elaine and Jillian, but Katie could see it written blatantly on Hayden’s face that he was a bit more reluctant to trust the doctor’s optimism. Chad’s father thought they were jumping the gun, so to speak.

  “They decreased the anesthesia doses yesterday, Elaine. It can’t be normal that he hasn’t woken up yet.” Hayden spoke gruffly, both from agitation at the situation and tiredness from having not slept properly in days.

  “You’re being presumptuous, dear.”

  “They don’t know what’s going on in that head of his any more than we do. Dr. Vale said so. His prognosis—”

  “Dr. Vale would never have allowed it if he didn’t think Chad was ready for it. You know that.” Elaine patted him on the shoulder gently and stood up, and Katie heard the woman’s knees pop reluctantly with the movement.

  “I don’t know that,” he snapped at her. “And neither do you.”

  Half the time, Katie wasn’t sure whether Hayden was trying to be gruff and hard to get along with, or if he was just so anxious about his son that his social graces had deteriorated into nothingness. He rarely so much as glanced at her, though, so she wasn’t given the opportunity to decipher his mannerisms.

  “Come on, Mason, my dear. Let’s go get you something yummy from the vending machine.” Elaine held a hand out to Mason, who was staring intently at the screen of his Nintendo DS, flicking at the buttons under his thumbs. Elaine, and his love of sugared treats from the cafeteria, seemed to be the only thing capable of making the young boy smile lately. Because of that, Katie allowed him to have the treats a bit more often than she normally would.

  “That’s his third trip to the vending machine today,” Katie laughed, but Elaine waved at her dismissively, winking playfully as she and Mason passed by, hand in hand.

  Katie had made a phone call to Mason’s elementary school back in Ontario. She advised them that Mason wouldn’t be returning to school for at least a few weeks, and the secretary had been less than subtle in letting Katie know how little she thought of the idea. It had been on the tip of her tongue to snap at the woman—“The man I love is in a coma because of me, and you think I don’t already know that I’m making some incorrect decisions?”—but she managed to bite back her retort. Taking a page from Hayden’s inventory of surliness instead, Katie didn’t hesitate to remind the woman on the other end of the phone that her personal opinion of Katie’s decision to pull Mason from school—which she hadn’t taken lightly—was none of her concern.

  “Dad!”

  The distant cry of happiness brought Katie out of her chair, and she turned abruptly in the direction of Mason’s voice. A lump had formed in the deepest part of her throat.

  “Mom, Dad’s here!”

  “I see him, Mase.” Katie closed the gap between them. Elaine still had Mason’s hand, but she let go as the little boy pulled away and dove ahead, wrapping his arms around his father’s hips. She must have seen the seriousness on Katie’s face because she looked reluctant to release him from her grasp.

  “What are you doing here?” Katie asked as Jay enveloped Mason in a hug.

  “I came to see my son.”

  “This isn’t the time, or the place, Jay.”

  “Let me take him home with me, then.”

  Katie’s mouth opened in protest, but she didn’t have a chance to respond.

  “I don’t want to go, Dad. I want to stay here with Mom. And Chad.”

  “Chad.” Jay’s tone grew edgy, and Katie fought to avoid Elaine’s stare. The woman was standing very still, obviously unsure whether to leave them to their own devices or intervene.

  “Jay,” Katie lowered her voice. “Calm down. This—”

  “This isn’t the time or the place,” he mimicked.

  In an attempt to diffuse the situation, Katie m
otioned toward Elaine. “Jay, this is Elaine, Chad’s mother. Elaine, this is Jay.”

  “Good to meet you,” Jay stated, emotionless.

  Hesitancy laced Elaine’s voice. “You, as well.”

  Jay exaggerated his movements, turning himself and Mason, still standing close to him, away from the older woman. “As I was saying, I want to see Mason. No more waiting for you to return my calls. No more being ignored.”

  “I never said you couldn’t—”

  “You’re keeping him from me!” Jay barked, reaching out to grab hold of Mason by the arm. “Let’s go, Mason.”

  Mason gave a startled pull in an attempt to get out from under his father’s hold. “Dad, no. I want to—”

  “We’re leaving, Mason.”

  “No, Dad. I don’t—”

  “Let him go,” Katie demanded, her hysteria beginning to rise.

  “It’s time to go—”

  “Perhaps, you need to take it easy.”

  The deep, serious voice behind her made Katie spin around. She came face to face with Hayden, but his gaze was set firmly on Jay. “Let the boy go,” he added calmly.

  Jay gave a hollow laugh, but he looked unnerved. “He’s my son,” he announced again. But he did loosen his grip on Mason’s shoulder.

  “Then start treating him like it. Now, I heard Mason say he didn’t want to go with you. I think you need to respect that.”

  “And I think you should mind your own damn business,” Jay snapped, but he didn’t move to reach for his son again.

  “This—” Hayden motioned between himself and the trio before him, “This is very quickly making it my business, son.”

  “I’m not your son.”

  “No, but Chad Kirkwood is. And seeing as this young lady and that little boy seem to mean something to him, I just made this my business. Do yourself a favor, and don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.”

  “Hayden!” Elaine cried, obviously flustered.