by LR Potter
She woke as she had so many times before, lying on a hospital bed looking up at the blank screen of a television mounted on a wall opposite the bed. Past experience told her where she was and as memories from the warehouse began to filter into her mind, she curled her fists into the sheets of the bed. As she had before, she lolled her head but this time saw her father asleep in the chair next to her. A myriad of feelings encompassed her. She was happy to see him alive, but angry and hurt at all she’d learned about him. In his weird need to control her, he’d allowed terrible things to be done. And ultimately, he was responsible for the death of her mother. She flinched as she remembered the gunshot she’d heard right before she’d passed out. Had Rush made it out alive? Was their baby still intact?
She tried to reach a hand out to her father so she could ask him, but found her arms strapped to the bed. When she tried to call to him, she realized she had a respirator tube inserted into her throat. She continued to stare at her sleeping father in the quietness of the night, willing him, by the sheer force of that stare, to wake up and talk to her. But he didn’t. Anxiousness clawed at her. The steady drip, drip, drip of her IV, no matter how hard she fought it, sent her off once again into the thankfully dreamless world of sleep.
***
Sunlight was streaming into her room the next time her eyes fluttered open. She turned her head, but found the chair empty. As they had been the night before, her arms were still strapped down and the respirator tube still in her throat. She struggled to clear her hazy mind. Flashes of James Franklin’s deranged face wavered before her eyes and she shook her head to get rid of them. She didn’t want to think about him right now.
A sound at the door had her turning her head. A doctor dressed in the standard white coat walked in, reading a chart. He lifted his head and glanced at her. He smiled when he realized she was awake.
“Good morning,” he said before allowing his eyes to drift back to the chart.
She had so many questions and was frustrated at her inability to ask them.
The doctor made a notation on the chart before setting it aside to focus on her. He uncoiled a stethoscope from his neck and inserted one end into his ears before placing the other against her chest. He moved it around to different locations on her chest. Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he pulled away and made another notation on her chart.
“I’m going to get a nurse and we can remove the respirator tube, all right?” the doctor asked her.
Doing the only thing she could do, she nodded her head.
In what seemed an eternity, the doctor and the promised nurse reentered her room. Trinity recognized the nurse from her two previous stays in this hospital. The doctor positioned himself on one side of her and the nurse on the other.
“When I count to three, we’re going to pull this out. You need to be perfectly still and exhale as hard as you can,” the doctor said to her. “One, two, three…”
The nurse held her head as the doctor grabbed the respirator plate at her mouth and began sliding the tube from her throat. She struggled against the natural inclination to gag against the pressure. The tube felt as it had barbs attached to the ends as it scraped and seared her throat. Then it was out. Trinity sucked air into her lungs and they burned like fire.
She lifted frantic eyes to the doctor and rasped, “My baby?”
“Fine for now,” the doctor smiled and said. “We’ll keep a close eye, but the baby is fine for now.”
Trinity let her head fall back as tears drifted out of the corners of her closed eyes. She opened them back up when the doctor began speaking to her.
“The nurse will remove your restraints, but you have to promise to remain on your back for now. You sustained a gunshot wound to your chest and I don’t want you moving around, okay?”
She nodded her head and the doctor gave her one last pat of assurance on her arm before giving a nod of go ahead to the nurse. The nurse removed the straps, adjusted her pillows, and poured water into her cup before leaving.
Trinity moved her now-free arms to place her hands protectively over her stomach. Her baby had made it. She wondered who else had come out of the warehouse. She closed her eyes once more as an endless stream of tears poured down her cheeks.
A sound at the door had her glancing quickly in its direction. Her father stood in the doorway looking more haggard and unkempt than she’d ever remembered seeing him in the past. He met her eyes uncertainly before entering the room. He stood quietly by her bed, obviously struggling with what to say.
“Trinity… I… you have to understand… there were outlying circumstances… there were reasons I did the things I did,” her father stammered.
Her hearts felt frozen in her chest. Even now, he wanted to convince her of his innocence. As if there could be any way he could explain away what had happened.
She lifted a hand to stop him. She was only interested in one thing right now. “What happened at the warehouse? Was Rush… hurt? Did he make it out? Where is he?” her chest burned as she struggled to gather oxygen into it.
Her father blinked his eyes rapidly at her words. It was almost as if he believed Rush to be of little importance compared to what he was expounding upon.
“Rush Drayton is perfectly fine. I have no idea where he is, probably at work.”
His words wounded her. She was lying in a hospital and Rush was at work? Clutching the sheet between her fingers, she struggled to calm her erratic breathing. She meant that little to him?
“Tell me what happened at the warehouse,” she whispered.
Her father ran a hand through his less than perfect hair. “Drayton called me when the SUV exploded in his parking lot. Your… body hadn’t been found, so we assumed someone had you. It was a truly terrifying time for me, I promise you. To not know if your child is alive or dead is horrific!” her father exclaimed.
She looked away from him as disgust swamped her. “You should be used to it by now. You’ve orchestrated just that scenario over and over,” she replied tonelessly.
He gasped at her words. “Trinity Allura Grace! That simply isn’t fair… or true.”
She sighed, suddenly tiring of him. “Please continue.”
He eyed her intently before complying with her words. “Jim called me. I can’t begin to explain how shocked I was. I had no idea. He’d gone completely off his rocker. He blamed me for the death of Adrianna Drayton. I couldn’t believe it. He told me he was responsible for my shooting and for both your attack in the alley and the hit-and-run. He said he’d taken you and if I wanted to see you alive again, I had to meet with him alone the next morning. He was to call me to set up where and when. Drayton happened to be with me when Jim called. He made some calls and got in contact with people he knew who could help us track you down by using Jim’s phone triangulations. From his phone call, we were able to pinpoint a wide grid, but we needed a narrower one, so I called him early that morning. We were closer than we thought. Drayton found the warehouse and went in to get you. And well… you know what happened after that. Drayton tried to wrestle the gun away from Jim, and the gun went off… killing Jim.”
The burning in Trinity’s chest had nothing to do with the gunshot wound. Rush had come so close to dying because of her and her father.
Closing her eyes, she whispered, “I need to see him.”
“See who?” her father asked obstinately.
“Rush… please. I need to see him.”
Silence met her words. “I’ll make a call,” he eventually said.
“I’m really tired now. Do you mind closing the door behind you?” she said.
Once again, silence met her words. “Of course, dear,” he said before he leaned down to press a kiss to her temple.
She shrank from his touch.
***
Trinity was in the hospital for almost two weeks before she was finally released. Rush Drayton never came to the hospital, nor returned any of her frantic calls. She guessed she deserved his isolation. But it h
urt so very bad. The fire in her chest burned at an excruciating level of pain. Her father was another constant source of pain. She’d finally had him banned from her hospital room. She might one day be able to forgive him, but it wouldn’t be this day.
Dealing with the police was an utter nightmare and she’d been forced to tell and re-tell the story more than a dozen times to just as many people.
She’d been thankful when Gavin Lassiter had stopped by the hospital to see her. He’d not only assured her she’d have her job when she recovered, but he’d helped her find a place to live when she was released. She couldn’t go back to her father’s house. She had all her belongings moved to her new place. While it cost a small fortune, it was well worth it.
On the day of her release, she called a taxi to take her to the, as of yet unseen, new apartment. She’d thanked all the doctors and nurses for their tremendous care and now sat patiently in the hospital foyer in a wheelchair, waiting on her taxi. She was folding and refolding the tissue between her fingers, staring unseeingly at a potted plant at the hospital’s entrance when a familiar face appeared at her eye level. Hunter Amhearst was squatted down in front of her, resting a plaster-casted arm on his knee.
Her eyes lit up. “Hunter! What in the world happened to you?”
He grinned at her question. “I could ask you the same question. Me… well, I guess you could say I won’t be skiing again anytime too soon. I’m this thing,” he said as he thumped the hard outer cast, “removed today. Yea!”
“Oh no! How awful. I’m so sorry. I’m glad it’s well enough to have the cast removed,” she exclaimed.
“What about you?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure how to answer him. “Well… I guess I won’t be skiing again anytime too soon either.”
He gave have a quizzical look. “Are you okay?”
She nodded slowly. “I will be. Maybe not today, but eventually.”
Parroting her motions, he nodded slowly as well. With another grin, he said, “So… where have you been hiding the ever popular Mr. Drayton? I haven’t seen him around lately. Would you happen to know why that would be?” he asked in a tone which indicated she was the reason for his disappearance.
She looked down at the now-shredded tissue between her fingers. “No, I haven’t seen him in a while myself.” Needing to change the subject, she asked, “How’s things with you and Sundra?”
He again gave her another quizzical glance. “You know about holiday romances… they hardly ever last past the holiday.”
She shook her head and glanced away as her eyes misted. “No, they usually don’t.” She saw her taxi pulling up in the circular drive of the hospital. “Well, that’s me. Good luck today, Hunter,” she said.
He stared intently into her eyes for a long time. “Good luck to you, Trinity. Here, let me help you into your cab.”
Chapter 14
The next six months weren’t easy. The only thing which kept Trinity Grace going was the life growing inside her. She’d refused contact with her father and had begun to rebuild her life the way she wanted it. The daytime hours were easy to fill with busy things of work and making plans for her and her child. The nighttime hours were the hardest. Her life seemed so empty then. She missed Rush and wished for the millionth time she’d given him a chance… had believed him when she’d had the chance. The baby moving beneath her breasts let her remember she’d always have something of him with her.
Today she was celebrating. She’d officially completed her thirty-second week of her pregnancy. Today was the day she was going to open the envelope the doctor had given her a couple months previously telling her the sex of the child. She didn’t know why she’d decided to wait until she’d completed her seventh month to open the big reveal, but it was what she’d decided… and today was the day.
She’d made reservations at Cole Bairs, an exclusive French restaurant. She’d made the reservations months in advance and tonight was the night. She dressed in her only dressy maternity black dress, and slipped her feet, unfortunately into a pair of black flats – high heels were certainly out at this stage of her pregnancy.
She entered the restaurant with a lilt in her step. Tonight she was excited, for the first time in ages. They sat her at a table for two towards the back of the restaurant. Cole Bairs was fashioned in a historical building which had been converted into an exclusive… meaning expensive… eating establishment. They’d incorporated the original brick walls into their décor with huge fireplaces and small round tables with bright white tablecloths.
She sat smoothing her dress underneath her while snapping the crisp, white napkin over her stomach. Normally, the napkin would sit gently across her lap, now it lay across her small baby-bump. She glanced idly around the room and noticed all the tables seemed to be occupied by couples, some young, some old. As melancholy started to overwhelm her, her waiter appeared at her table. As she was celebrating, she ordered a glass of champagne.
She removed the sealed envelope from her purse and set it down next to her plate. When the waiter brought her the champagne, she looked sadly into the bubbles wishing she wasn’t forced to celebrate this alone. This was something that normally would be shared by two. She took a small sip of the almost bitter liquid and let it slide down her throat. She immediately set the glass away… she was pregnant after all.
With fingers that trembled, she picked up the butter knife from the place setting and ran it under the edge of the envelope. She pulled the folded paper out and took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly before unfolding the paper. With glassy eyes, she glanced quickly over the paper. A boy, she was having a boy. Her heart grew and hammered in her chest. She had a son. She swallowed at the thought of actually being able to visualize her child… her son. She wiped frantically at the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks.
As big as the moment was for her, she looked around the restaurant to see if anyone else had noticed. But she was alone in her momentous joy. She struggled against the pain of being alone. She lifted her napkin to dab at her cheeks. The waiter came and took her order and quietly departed. She’d just returned from what seemed a continuous journey to the ladies room and was smoothing the napkin across her lap when she raised her eyes and froze.
Sitting across the room from her was Rush Drayton. What were the odds? The only time she’d seen him was in the gossip section of the newspaper. He’d had an endless stream of women on his arm since the last time she’d seen him in his office the day she’d been kidnapped by James Franklin. The day he’d begged her to believe he loved her. And here he was on the biggest day of her life… of their lives, sitting with another nameless woman in a fancy French restaurant.
Her heart hammered against her ribs at the pain of being this close to him. He was still as beautiful as he’d ever been. His date, a young, blonde woman, looked up into his face and apparently felt the same way Trinity had always felt… so enamored and overwhelmed, wanting so much to hold on to and cling to something that couldn’t ever really be possessed.
She watched as he listened politely to whatever she was saying, but even from this distance, Trinity could see how detached he held himself. She’d assumed it was only her who brought out those feelings. The woman said something which seemed to bring his attention back to her as he gave her a smile of apology and leaned in and kissed her cheek.
Trinity gasped at the pain which seared her. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t sit here and watch him touch another… kiss another. She removed enough money out of her purse to pay for the champagne and rose awkwardly to her feet. She looked around almost frantically for another way out, but knew with a certainty she’d have to pass right by him. Swallowing hard, she grabbed the folded paper from the table and moved swiftly through the restaurant. As she drew near Rush’s table, she struggled to not look at him… she couldn’t look at him. It’d kill her to see his gentle eyes on another.
But as with anything to do with him, her body had a mind of its own. As she d
rew near, she lifted her eyes and inhaled deeply when her eyes met his. Her steps faltered at the intensity of his gaze. She watched as his eyes moved over her body, then shifted back quickly to her eyes as if startled. For reasons she refused to analyze, as she passed his table and his seemingly stunned expression, she carefully laid the folded paper in her hand down next to him. Without speaking, she moved passed him and silently moved out of the restaurant.
Thankfully, sitting right outside the restaurant, was a small wooden bench. She sat and dialed the taxi service to pick her up. She closed her eyes against the pain of seeing him again. She regretted the impulse to place the baby’s gender findings down in front of him. He’d made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with her and their child. She supposed she should be relieved he wasn’t trying to take the baby away from her. But still, it would have been nice to share the day-to-day stressors of being pregnant and alone.
Tears began to stream down her face as pain sharper than any knife pierced her. Unable to sit still any longer, she stood awkwardly to her feet and began to move down the sidewalk. She’d gone only a few steps when she heard his voice behind her.
“Trinity?”
She froze at the word. No! She couldn’t face him, be in the same space with him. It would certainly kill her… if not kill her, it would drive her insane. She stumbled only briefly before beginning to walk quickly down the sidewalk.
“Trinity!” he said with more force and closer to her.
As the tears continued to fall, she picked up her pace until she was practically running from him. He caught her shoulders and swung her around to him. She stumbled into chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She struggled to push against his chest.