I'm Only Here for the Beard

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I'm Only Here for the Beard Page 20

by Lani Lynn Vale


  We all looked at him like he was crazy.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I finally said. “What the fuck in the world would possess you to do something like that?”

  Fender shrugged. “I was sixteen and wasn’t really sure that I wanted the hot nurse to know that I did something to my dick and thought it might fall off.”

  “You’re lucky it didn’t fall off,” my father mumbled. “Jesus Christ, kid.”

  Fender laughed. “I’m lucky a lot of stuff didn’t fall off. Never once did I worry about my dick like that again, though. If anything happens from now on, I’ll just whip it out and show it to Dr. Biker.”

  I looked over at Tommy Tom to see what he thought about that.

  “Why me?” he asked. “He’s a paramedic. And so is she.”

  Tommy Tom pointed to Naomi where she was lying in bed.

  “I don’t want to see anyone else’s dick but the one that belongs to me.”

  I grinned and walked back into the room, stopping with my feet only inches away from her bed.

  “You finally awake?” I asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice that seemed to be permanently seated there every time I saw her face.

  “I’ve been awake. Just resting my eyes, really.”

  I snorted and dropped my fisted hands to her bedside, then leaned carefully forward and placed a kiss on her split lips.

  “You want something to drink?”

  The words left my mouth, and my breath danced over her lips, that was how close we still were.

  “Dr. Pepper.”

  I snorted and pulled back, studying her face.

  “I’m not sure that your doctor will allow you to have Dr. Pepper yet. I do have some tasty ice chips for you, though.”

  She huffed out a breath of air, then turned even further and stared at the men in the hall trying to talk quietly.

  “Tell them to get in here and sit down. They’re making me nervous.”

  I looked over at the men where they were standing, all of them like silent sentries protecting the occupants within, and grinned. “I think they like you.”

  She licked her lips, and her eyelids drooped. “I’m glad you’re here, Sean.”

  “Where else would I rather be but with you?”

  Her smile was soft and sweet. “I’m glad this particular nightmare is over.”

  I also thought that the nightmares were over. Little did I know that they were only beginning.

  Chapter 23

  So it turns out when you’re an adult, there’s literally no one who can tell you that you can’t have cake for breakfast.

  -Fact of life

  Sean

  “The dog saved her life,” my dad said. “If it wasn’t for her, Naomi would be dead right now, and we wouldn’t be talking about what I was bringing for dinner.”

  That was so true that I couldn’t stand it.

  I’d hated that dog. I’d cursed that dog. I’d wanted to get rid of that dog.

  But then she’d saved her life, and I was going to be stuck with her now.

  Not that I was complaining. I’d take her growling at me and snapping at my toes as I passed as long as she’d save Naomi’s life if there ever came another time that she’d have to do so again.

  “Did you get her to go outside without picking her up today?”

  My father nodded.

  “Yes,” he said. “But the moment I tried to get her back inside, she tried to bite off my hand.”

  I laughed then. It felt freeing, like I was finally able to believe that my life wasn’t going to take a turn for the worse.

  It was day four of Naomi’s hospital stay, and the pretty colors on her face were finally starting to change.

  If all went as planned, she would be leaving this hospital this afternoon after her kidney function was tested at the one in the afternoon blood checks.

  “You should try to be nicer to her,” Naomi said as she rolled over on the bed, facing us. “She kicked ass.”

  My mouth twitched.

  “She did kick ass. She just didn’t stop at your attacker’s ass. Now she’s kicking everyone’s ass who isn’t me, and since I’m here most of the time with you, my brothers are starting to think this dog is as big of an asshole as I think she is.”

  All of a sudden, she was laughing, her face a mask of healing bruises, but still relaying the joy that she was feeling.

  She was mending.

  She had a baby growing in her womb, one that we weren’t planning but realized quickly that we both really wanted.

  And everything seemed fine.

  But when the next her smile slipped off her face, and she was looking down at her lap as if something had fallen into it during her conversation, my laughter faded.

  “What is it?” I asked, dropping my half-eaten slice of pizza down onto my plate and staring at Naomi with concern lacing my features.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

  I stood up, not caring that my plate hit the floor with the move, and took two giant steps toward her.

  My hand was yanking on the cord on the wall, the one that called every single nurse and doctor in the vicinity into our room, and started leaning the bed backward as Naomi’s bruised body continued to convulse.

  “Dad, get a pillow against the side rails so she doesn’t slam her head against them, but don’t drop them.”

  My father followed my instructions.

  On the outside I was calm, cool and collected.

  On the inside I was a churning mess of worry and terror, wound tight into a barely functioning shell.

  The nurses rushed into the room, and I was slowly pushed out of the way as I watched helplessly while they started working on my woman.

  The sheet and blanket that’d been covering her were thrown to the floor at the foot of the bed, and my eyes went to them, uncomprehending at what exactly I was seeing.

  Blood. I know that it looked a lot worse than it was, but it was my girl bleeding. There was blood on them, and I had no clue where that blood was coming from.

  But the moment I returned my eyes to Naomi, I realized where it was coming from.

  Her thighs were slick with blood. Between her legs, on the sheets beneath her, was a puddle of blood forming on the waterproof sheets that hospitals used to help with cleanup. She had to have been bleeding for a while and didn’t realize it.

  And that’s when I realized that our dose of nightmares weren’t finished yet.

  The baby that we were both so excited about was now gone, too.

  They got her convulsions under control, but the bleeding continued sluggishly.

  Naomi’s head lolled to the side, and I realized with a start that her eyes were open, and she was staring at me with comprehension filling her eyes.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  My heart ached and my throat started to tighten.

  “I love you, too, baby,” I whispered back.

  Her eyes closed.

  I moved forward and grabbed her hand, despite getting a look by the nurse at the head of her bed, telling me without words that I was in the way.

  Her eyes opened once again, distant and lost.

  “I want you to move to the land,” she rasped. “Take the RV and go. Don’t stay at your dad’s a minute longer. Build our dream home. Live, Sean.”

  Then her eyes rolled back in her head, and she lost consciousness for the second time in less than five minutes.

  This time, I was a lot less hopeful than the last.

  ***

  “We believe that the bleeding has to do with her having a placental abruption. We have to do an exploratory surgery to stop the bleeding.” The doctor was shaking his head. “If we don’t, she could suffer some long term aefects,” he hesitated. “Normally, this decision is left up to the individual, but since you’re her fiancé, and she’s still under a great deal
of stress due to her other injuries, I think this is the best course of action.”

  My throat convulsed.

  The procedure would help her…but it was one that scared the absolute crap out of me. Any surgery was a risk. There were no guarantees.

  But as I sat there, and looked at my woman with her too pale face, I realized that I was going to have to make this decision whether I wanted to or not.

  “Do it,” I said.

  And as they wheeled her away, I wanted to scream. To cry. To shout to the world about the injustice of it all.

  I settled for walking down the hallway, turning quietly into the room that was being guarded by Aaron, and closing the door so softly behind me that it was only a whisper of a sound.

  Aaron didn’t stop me, either.

  No, he felt my pain. He knew what was going through me right now. He realized that I was a loose cannon, and I needed an outlet for everything I was feeling, all the pain and the worry.

  I walked quietly over to the bed. Stared down at Walton where he lay comfortably in the bed.

  He was handcuffed to it, sure, but he didn’t look like he was hurting.

  No, he was hooked up to pain meds, had a fuckin’ pillow under his goddamn head. He was fed and had the goddamn TV on, while Naomi was being taken to the operating room to have her insides repaired after losing our baby

  And I just couldn’t handle it all anymore.

  I snapped my fist out, and punched him straight in the nose.

  ***

  Three days passed, and on the third day, when I was getting anxious and worried that she wouldn’t pull through this, the color started to return to her cheeks.

  By that afternoon, her eyes were moving behind her lids.

  But still she didn’t wake.

  “Need you to come get her outside. She had a setback, and I’m worried about her.”

  I turned my head to my father and stared.

  “You think I give a good goddamn about that dog right now, Dad?” I asked. “Let her starve.”

  I felt light pressure on my forearm, and my eyes automatically flew to the bed.

  “Be nice to Butterfinger,” she ordered.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.

  Nothing but a sob, that was.

  Chapter 24

  The check engine light should be more specific. For instance, do I just need to check the gas cap, or do I need to stop right now so my engine doesn’t explode?

  -Naomi’s secret thoughts

  Naomi

  Life wasn’t the same after Sean and I lost the child we didn’t even know about.

  But it wasn’t a bad different. Just not the same as it once had been.

  Sean was scared.

  He was scared to touch me. Scared to leave me. Scared to let me do my job.

  He literally would’ve wrapped me up in bubble wrap if he thought he could get away with it.

  I picked up my telephone and dialed my best friend, hoping she’d give me some advice that would help me deal with this crazy, overprotective man of mine.

  It’d been four months since I’d lost our baby, and four months since I’d seen the same man that I’d been sitting next to a hospital bed with, discussing what we would name our child when he or she came.

  The phone rang, and not five seconds later my best friend in the whole wide world answered with a frustrated, “Hello?”

  The sound of a baby crying in the background made my heart pang.

  “I need some help,” I said without preamble. “Sean still won’t touch me.”

  “What’d he do now?” she asked warily.

  “It’s what he won’t do. I don’t know what to do,” I told my best friend. “He doesn’t even look at me the same. He doesn’t touch me unless it’s to hug me, and when he hugs me, it’s only long enough to act like he’s not trying to get away from me.”

  I plunked backwards onto the bed, and watched my hot, bearded paramedic mow the front lawn.

  Something had to give, and it wasn’t going to be me.

  She hummed, then cursed succulently. “Fuck you, cocksucker.”

  “Did you just call one of your kids a cocksucker?” I asked worriedly.

  “No,” she snapped. “It was Downy’s fucking dog. She ate my banana bread!”

  I snickered softly under my breath, and then couldn’t help it, and busted a gut.

  “Oh, God,” I wiped tears from my eyes. “She didn’t mean to.”

  “Didn’t mean to my ass,” she grumbled. “That bitch is a bitch, pure and simple. She watched me the entire time she leaned over my plate and ate it. She knew exactly what she was doing.”

  Downy’s dog was a police K-9 officer and really was a good dog…when she wanted to be.

  “Hey,” she interrupted my laughing. “I heard that there’s another litter of puppies from the same sire that Mocha came from.”

  My eyebrows lifted.

  “Did you ask for his number like I asked you?” I asked hopefully.

  “Yep,” she confirmed. “And I also got the name of a woman who’s married to a supreme badass. Guess what!”

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and frowned when I saw all of the dust on the blades of the ceiling fan. At least I can say that I’ve never seen the ceiling fan turned off, so how could I know it was dirty?

  “What?” I asked, standing up and heading to the wall where the switch for the fan was and flipped it on and off a few times to see if it was just off.

  It wasn’t.

  Sean had purchased a repossessed mobile home from an auction and had moved it to the land that I now called my own—my own with Sean—a few weeks after I was released from the hospital.

  It was the biggest piece of shit that I’d ever lived in, and that was even including my own shitty humble abode where I’d stayed for the first few months of my time in Mooresville. But it was mine and Sean’s, and I loved it.

  We’d broken ground on a small country-style pier and beam home that was expected to be finished mid next year.

  I could see the level pad from the window I was standing next to, and every time I saw the progress of it, I got even more excited.

  Sean passed my window again, his face dripping with sweat.

  He was wearing faded tight blue jeans, a brown leather belt, his black motorcycle boots, and a frown.

  Sweat dripped down the tight planes of his abs, and his eyes were covered in a pair of aviator sunglasses that were literally so damn sexy on him that I wanted to run out and jump on him.

  My luck, though, he’d just push me off of him and apologize for doing nothing like he always did.

  “Are you even listening to me?” Aspen growled.

  My lips twitched. “Yes, sorry, keep going.”

  “The man that does the dogs is actually part of the Dixie Wardens, but they’re out of Benton, Louisiana,” she said. “His name is Trance. There’s a member’s wife that trains the dogs once they’re a little older. Helps them become protection dogs.”

  My lips tipped up into a full-out grin as I made my way down the hall to the kitchen.

  Grabbing one of the dusting towels out of the drawer next to the fridge, I headed back into the bedroom and stepped up onto the bed.

  The ceiling fan had to be cleaned. If it wasn’t going to work, I wasn’t going to stare at that disgusting sight.

  “You know who I think you need to talk to?” Aspen asked suddenly. “PD.”

  My brows furrowed.

  “What?” I asked in confusion. “Why would I talk to him?”

  “Because his wife had her arm lopped off with a sword, and she almost lost their child.” She informed me of something I already knew. “If anyone knows what Sean is going through, it’s him. He almost lost her multiple times, and he’s a man. I’m not a man, so I really wouldn’t know what Sean is feeling. I’ve told you all of the things that I would do, and if those aren’t working, then I thi
nk you need expert advice.”

  I blinked, then nodded my head in understanding.

  Putting the phone onto speaker, I thrust it into my bra and stretched my arms up over my head

  “That’s true,” I said as I started to clean the blades, gagging slightly when dust fell into my hair. “But I think talking to another man will piss Sean off.”

  “It will piss Sean off.”

  I squeaked, whipping around, and in the process jolted the ceiling fan, causing every single piece of dust that was left on it to fall to the bed.

  My body teetered on the edge of the bed, and he steadied me with two hands on my hips.

  It also fell all over me, and I shivered.

  “Jesus Christ, Sean,” I gasped, placing my dust rag over my heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Why do you need to talk to another man when you have me to talk to?”

  Sean’s words stopped me cold.

  “I gotta go, Aspen,” I said, dropping the rag to the floor. “Sean just walked in.”

  Before Aspen could reply, I fished the phone out of my bra, hit end, and then tossed it to the now dirty bed.

  Sean crossed his arms over his sweaty chest, and I swallowed thickly.

  The man was gorgeous, even when he was pissed.

  And he was pissed. His eyes were hard, his mouth was set in a thin line, and he was breathing heavy despite being in the best shape of any man I knew.

  “What are you doing up there?” he asked.

  There was so much inferred calm in his tone, and I narrowed my eyes.

  “I’m cleaning. What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped.

  His jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth.

  Anything that looked even remotely dangerous to the man had him getting this feral ‘you won’t do it’ attitude about him that was seriously getting on my nerves.

  “You ready to go?” he asked, staring at me like I was crazy.

  I nodded. “Almost. Should I be wearing my boots?”

  He shook his head, and I growled. “Sean!”

 

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