by Ann, Natalie
Road to Recovery
Text Copyright 2014 Natalie Ann
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without a written consent.
Dedication: To my mother, Natalie. For showing me the true meaning of the word strength––never giving up.
Author’s Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Website http://www.natalieannbooks.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Not Interested
Distracted
Practical
Bad Girl
So Simple
No Games
Just a Cramp
Unbalanced
Fantasy
Shutting Down
Pack Extra
Reaching
Party Time
Too Much Wine
In Brooklyn
Anniversary
Mac’s Visit
White Picket Fences
Summoned
Birthday Wish
Secret
Say Goodbye
Appearance Only
Won’t Give Up
Epilogue
More Books
Prologue
“Mac, stop picking at her.”
The statement caused him to guiltily drop his sister’s hand. “Shouldn’t she be awake by now?”
Sighing deeply, his patience at its end, Dr. Richard Malone addressed his son, his normal condescending tone slightly rising. “You know the answer to that. I know you chose Pediatrics, but even you should know she will wake up when she is ready.” He turned to his wife seated in the chair calmly reading a magazine. “Paula, I’m going to the cafeteria for coffee.”
Placing her magazine on the windowsill, she stood up gracefully and ran her hands down her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. It was assumed she would follow without being asked. “Yes, dear, a coffee sounds good.” Turning to her son sitting next to the hospital bed holding his sister’s hand once again, she asked, “Can we get you a drink, Mackenzie?”
Never looking up, he answered absently, “No.”
Once Mac was sure they were alone, he raised her hand up higher, placed it between both of his, and gave it a gentle squeeze. With his head bowed down and eyes shut, he whispered, “Come on, Brooke, wake up.”
He felt her hand move slightly, whipped his head up and watched as she struggled to wake up.
***
Brooke fought through the fog, her brain heavy and her eyes like they had ten-pound weights on them preventing them from opening. She’d lost track of how long she had been trying to fight her way out. Every time she came close she would hear an annoying beeping sound. Each beep radiated through her skull like a nail down a chalkboard. She wanted it to stop, so she gave up and let herself drift back under again.
This time she heard voices. Deep annoyance, mixed with soft pleading. She couldn’t understand why anyone would be annoyed with her. She was trying to wake up. Surely someone wasn’t mad at her for sleeping. And why couldn’t she wake up? Why did everything seem so confusing?
Feeling another nudge on her hand brought her back a bit more. A voice willing her to open her eyes continued to speak in gentle tones. But everything seemed too bright. She wanted to keep them closed, just a little bit longer.
That voice wasn’t letting up. It continued to coax her more and more to try to open her eyes. For some reason the voice drew her in, making her want to see its source. It was comforting in the mist of the fog she was still struggling through. The longer she heard it, the more secure she felt.
Using all her strength, she pushed to lift those ten-pound eyelids. Only a crack, then bright lights, causing her to blink them shut again.
Now the beeping increased louder and faster. Was that her alarm clock? Why couldn’t she shut it off? And why was it so loud and annoying? She tried to move her hand to turn it off, but something warm and gentle held it in place.
“That’s it, Brooke, you can do it. Open your eyes. It’s me, Mac,” he pleaded. “I’m here. Right here with you. You’re safe.”
Safe. His voice felt safe. As scared as she was, she felt she would be fine as long as that voice was right there with her. Once again, she tried to open her eyes. The blinding light kept forcing them shut. The light hurt too much. Maybe the voice would shut the light off for her.
Her tongue felt thick and dry in her mouth. But she had to try. She needed that light off badly. Managing to swallow a few times, she finally croaked out, “Light.”
A scratching noise came next. Then footsteps and another noise, like something sliding, darkness beyond her eyelids, finally. Now she could try again.
“I shut the shade for you. Was the sunlight bothering you?” the voice asked her softly.
It must have been later than she thought if the sun was shining through her window, so she tried to open her eyes once more. She must really be running late. She was never late for anything. Urgency finally forced her eyes fully open.
She found herself staring into a face she remembered, a face that closely resembled her own. “Mac?”
“Yeah. It’s me. Mac. Thank God, Brooke.” He breathed a sigh.
“What?” she started to ask in confusion.
“Shhh. Just relax. Take a deep breath.” He gently squeezed her hand. “Listen to me. Take deep breaths. You were in an accident,” he said as he began to explain where she was and why.
“How long?” She was trying to process her thoughts, but it was a struggle. She seemed to only be able to come up with a few words at a time.
“Eight days. You’ve been here in the hospital for eight days. You were severely injured. You’ve been kept in a coma while they’ve monitored your injuries and vitals. Can you feel your legs? Can you move them?” he asked gently, even though she could sense his urgent state.
Brooke couldn’t understand why he would ask her if she could feel her legs. Of course she could. What kind of crazy question was that? But then she realized she couldn’t. Couldn’t move them—or feel them. The beeps were coming faster now, relaying the beating of her heart. Her eyes started to fill with tears.
Seeing her distress, he tried to soothe her. “Brooke, deep breaths. Come on. It’s fine. You’ve been in and out of surgery a few times. You are still healing. Don’t panic.”
Memories started to flood her brain. Screaming. Bright lights. Rain hitting the windshield. A hand gripping her arm as she yelled back. Then a loud crash. Quiet.
Swallowing through the lump in her throat, she asked, “Robbie?”
Mac’s eyes hollowed as he looked at hers. “I’m so sorry.”
Brooke lay there, the tears pooling in her eyes now ran unchecked down her cheeks.
Not Interested
Nine months later
Brooke took a quick drink of water and then set the bottle in the cup holder of the elliptical bike, but not before eyeing the treadmill longingly.
“Nope, not ready,” she muttered to herself, mentally shak
ing her head. She refused to be one of those people who climbed on a treadmill to walk. If she couldn’t run on it, she wasn’t stepping a foot on it, and there wouldn’t be any running yet.
Low impact, core and upper body strength training right now. Baby steps. And that’s exactly what it was for her—baby steps.
With a sigh, she climbed on the bike, set the program and started the warm up. Even though she was plenty warmed up from thirty minutes of weight lifting, to the point where her arms, back and shoulders burned. No pain, no gain, she reminded herself for the millionth time in the last several months.
The hospital gym was quiet right now, which was strange since it was only a little after five. Then again, it was a Friday night. Everyone most likely rushed home to get a start on the weekend. Just like she used to do.
She wanted a change and that was what she got. It was time to start over, get away from all the hovering of her family. Time to stand on her two feet, literally and figuratively.
A new job and a new city was what she needed. So when she found this job opening over a month ago, she didn’t hesitate to apply. She had been here two weeks now, settling into her townhouse and job. Now it was time to get her body whole again.
Fifteen minutes into her program, she noticed a group of men enter the gym laughing and joking with each other. Since a few nurses in their scrubs followed along like groupies, Brooke assumed those men were doctors.
Before she knew it, one of the men from the group was on the treadmill to her right and one of the nurses that came in earlier was climbing on the elliptical next to her.
Focused on the television in front of her, even though the local news wasn’t of interest to her, Brooke continued at her pace, thankful she was almost done. She still felt out of place here, not used to working in such a big building, surrounded by so many people. There were thousands of people here, between employees, patients and visitors. Her last job had a little over a hundred people on any given day.
She had always been somewhat cool and withdrawn. She liked people, just from a distance. She had a few friends, more like acquaintances, throughout her life and was happy that way. She knew how to conduct herself in any situation, allowing her to get along with most people. But she really liked to keep to herself and avoid large groups of people. She always felt like an outsider, never really warming up to anyone.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Lester. Dr. Mike Lester.” Brooke glanced over at the handsome man, who seemed to be in his mid-thirties, and nodded a polite smile in return. She silently congratulated herself for pegging him as a doctor upon first glance when he entered earlier, and an arrogant one at that. Who introduced himself as “Doctor” unless he was trying to impress you?
Out of the corner of her eye, she took note of his stance and tried not to laugh as the image of a peacock strutting on a treadmill came to mind. Chest puffed out, stomach mostly sucked in, arms swinging in a practiced move. She bet he watched himself walk in front of a mirror, too.
But his choice of clothing made her chuckle even more. Bright blue sneakers that actually matched the bright blue of his T-shirt and the same blue stripes on his shorts. Really? Who matched like that to work out? The same people who introduced themselves as Doctor, obviously.
Unlike Mr. Perfectly Coordinated, she packed her bag each day without thought whatsoever. The last thing she wanted was attention at the gym. Thankfully, all her yoga pants and athletic shorts were black or gray, just in different lengths. So any T-shirt she grabbed matched. Easy and efficient, exactly how she liked it.
She could feel his eyes on her while she watched the television. It started to give her the creeps, but she pretended he didn’t exist and kept pushing through her workout hoping he would get the hint.
“And you are?” he asked.
Nope, not getting the hint. “Brooke,” she replied without shifting her eyes toward him.
“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new here?” he asked politely.
Trying not to sigh too loudly, Brooke realized she was going to have to actually talk to the guy. No use making enemies already. He didn’t seem to get the message, or more likely did and didn’t care. His type never did.
“Yes,” Brooke replied patiently. This time she at least looked at him, but then quickly turned back to the boring news.
He chuckled, not the least be fazed by her short answers or obvious disinterest in him. “You want to grab a bite to eat once I’m done? I’m warming up and then I’m going to lift for thirty minutes or so,” he said as his chest muscles flexed.
She tried not to laugh at the clearly practiced pectoral move she saw out of the corner of her eye. Instead, she mustered a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and glanced back at him briefly one more time. “No, thanks.”
Not put off by her reply, he added persistently, “I’d really like to get to know you a bit more.” He paused and ran his eyes from her head to her toes, his mouth forming a cheesy grin. “I think we would really hit it off.” Then he winked.
The wink did it. The I’m-not-interested vibes she was sending out weren’t being received. She had dealt with his type plenty before. She thought she’d made herself clear, but obviously not clear enough. Time for the direct approach.
“Sorry, just not interested,” she said politely, hoping that would be clear enough.
With a snort that clearly stated he didn’t believe her, he hopped off the treadmill and said, “Give it time. You will be.” Then did his best strut across the gym, like the peacock she imagined earlier.
Brooke snorted to herself, rolled her eyes, and was extremely thankful her elliptical bike beeped, indicating she was done.
Stepping off, she tried not to wince at the pain. As she grabbed her water bottle and reached down for her bag, she heard, “He never takes no for an answer. Just be prepared. He will pester you again. Thinks he is God’s gift to women. A treat for the eyes, just nothing else of substance to him. He isn’t happy unless he can claim he has gone through all the single or married nurses before someone else. Bet he even keeps a list next to his bedside.” She ended with a laugh at her own joke.
“Good, then I should be safe since I’m not a nurse,” Brooke said with a genuine smile at the woman to her left who had witnessed the exchange with the slimy doctor.
With a chuckle and a smile of her own, the petite redhead said, “I’m Cori. Thanks for the entertainment. It’s Brooke, right? Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. Not too many people turn him down flat like that.’’
There was something about her—the easy smile, the humor in her eyes and the honesty that she extended Brooke when she didn’t need to. Especially in her position, most people only came to her when they wanted something, or wanted to complain. Very few people were friendly without having an agenda of their own. “Yes, it’s Brooke, and thanks for the warning, but I’m sure he will move on fairly quick.”
“Doubt it. Plenty of men here, doctors and other staff alike, feel the hospital is a picking ground for a date. I should say date loosely, more like looking for a good time, if you know what I mean? The guys not hitting on you are the guys that are already taken. Don’t get me wrong,” she rushed on. “There are some good ones out there, but they’re not easy to find. Guess most of us are used to it by now, but the new and young, they seem to get roped in and then heartbroken and more drama, sort of an endless cycle.” She ended the mouthful of words with a dramatic sigh and a shrug of her shoulders.
The pain started to get worse and Brooke wanted to go home and take a hot bath to get rid of the stiffness that had set in. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she said, “I bet. Well, it was nice meeting you.”
“You, too. Hey, if you aren’t a nurse, then what do you do here?”
Raising her eyebrows, she replied, “Human Resources. Work conduct, policies and procedures, to be exact.’’
Cori let out a laugh, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Figures.”
***
Lucas Mathews had been watching Brooke out of the corner of his eye for the last forty-five minutes. He had noticed her twice before in the gym. But today he watched her move from machine to machine, efficiently adjusting the weights and doing her reps as she minded her own business.
She was pretty, nothing outright stunning, but something about her kept drawing his eyes back. She was maybe five foot six, average height, dark hair, which was pulled back in a messy knot on the top of her head. From his distance he couldn’t really tell the color of her eyes, most likely brown.
She seemed like a person on a mission. He stayed back as he watched her, and only when he was sure she didn’t know his eyes were on her.
A few minutes after she had climbed on the elliptical, he stepped on a treadmill a few down from her. Close enough to see her but not crowd her and glad he was close enough to hear her conversations. When Mike saddled up next to her, Lucas knew what was coming. The same reason Mike chatted up any woman in the building.
Mike was a brilliant doctor, highly recommended, but too full of himself for Lucas’s tastes. He could barely tolerate being in the same room with him. It had indeed been entertaining to watch Brooke turn him down without a bat of her eyes.
Even more entertaining was overhearing her second conversation with the little redhead. So this Brooke was the woman they brought in for him to work with. He had yet to formally meet her in the two weeks since she started. They hadn’t even crossed paths, unless the gym counted.
Lucas was known to flirt and chat up women himself. Always fast with a laugh and grin, never taking life seriously. Though he knew when someone wasn’t interested in him, unlike Mike.