by Bellus, HJ
His declaration causes me to burst out in laughter. Not just any laughter, but a fit of hyena cries. The word Clover and beautiful have never been used in the same sentence. Now shy, awkward, nerd, studious, quiet, and well-mannered are the typical ones used to describe me, but not beautiful. This man must need his eyes checked, and his head while he’s at it.
“What’s so damn funny?”
I steady my laughter and clutch my hands to my sore gut. “You trying to tell me I’m beautiful.”
“You are. What’s so damn funny about that?”
“Oh, Sterling, you must be damn near blind.”
“I have twenty-twenty. Thank you very much.” I watch as he puts the truck in park and kills the engine, all the while sending me a little wink.
“I’m just normal. Plain and well…”
He cuts me off before I can get the rest of my thought out. “You’re naturally gorgeous, Clover. Not many women are, but you are. Shit, you don’t need makeup and all that bling shit. You’re beautiful.”
“Well, I don’t know what to say, but you’re wrong about that.”
“Really?” Sterling leans over toward my side, exposing more of his hard chest through his V-neck t-shirt. “Merek, Maverik, and Marvel all agree with me.”
“Marvel.” His name flows off my lips before I have the chance to stop it.
Sterling doesn’t ask questions as he jumps from the truck. He moves quickly to my side once again opening the door and helping me down.
“You can say thank you.”
“Excuse me?” I look up into Sterling’s determined face.
“You can say thank you when the next man tells you that you’re beautiful. Because trust me, I’m sure I won’t be the last.”
Between my nerves and the combination of this conversation, I decide just to walk quietly into the restaurant beside Sterling. I recognize the steakhouse immediately. It’s the same one that my uncle and aunt brought me to my first night in town, and if I remember correctly their flat iron steak was mouthwatering, not to mention their cheesecake.
Sterling swings open the door to the restaurant as my stomach lets out a loud and gnarly sound. I look around to find nothing or no one to blame it on.
“Good, you’re hungry.” He smiles down at me. “Me too, I could eat the asshole out of a cow right now.”
The picture he leaves me with is nothing but toe cringing and a bit hysterical. “Well, I’m not that hungry, Sterling, but yes, I’m ready to eat.”
“Look who the cat dragged in.”
A high pitch screeching voice startles me. I watch Sterling nod to the hostess.
“Hey, how are you?” He tips his hat and sends her a panty-melting smile. The man is a real stud and definitely knows how to make lady parts get all tingly or whatever they’re supposed to do.
“Are you back for good?” I watch the very interested woman ask Sterling.
“Yeah, it’s time to come home.”
“Sorry to hear about your daddy, but sure is nice to see you, Sterling.” The woman steps up to him, running her pointer finger down the front of his chest. Soon she leaves no space between the two of them as she pushes herself all the way on to him.
I steady myself to turn when I feel Sterling reach back and clasp onto my hand. He drags me right up next to him until I’m somehow drug into the weird triangle. He doesn’t step back nor push the woman back.
“This is my date, Clover, and we have reservations.”
I watch the realization dawn on her face and nearly feel guilty for being here with Sterling when clearly she wishes it was her. She moves quickly after the introduction and keeps conversation to a minimum while seating us. Silence coats the table as we both order a drink.
“Sorry, she’s an old friend.”
“It’s fine.” I wave him off.
The waiter places our sodas on the table before us.
“Do you have a bottle of Moscato?” Sterling asks him before he leaves.
“Yes, we do. What label are you interested in?"
“House is fine.”
“Excellent. I’ll be right back.”
“Two glasses with it please.” Sterling holds up two fingers with a light smile on his face.
“Cowboys drink wine?” I ask him when the waiter leaves.
“They sure do. Do nurses drink wine?”
“Actually, we do. It’s the only thing I drink.”
“I’m not bias to anything alcohol related. Just thought it might relax the situation a bit.”
“Good call.” I smile back to him. “My mother is a wino whoreasaurus. She nearly drinks a bottle each night, and when in the middle of a tough case, probably two.”
“That’s an interesting title.”
“She’s an interesting woman.” I take a long drink of my Diet Coke.
“Why is that?” Sterling asks, propping both of his elbows up on the table.
“She’s just everything I’m not. Cut throat, outgoing, greedy, and very cold.”
“Well, it sounds like a good thing you’re nothing like her.” He winks back at me.
We both fall into easy conversation before the wine even comes to the table.
“So, the girls said you came here to live with an uncle.”
“Yeah.” I blow a puff of my bangs up out of my eyes and then suddenly feel extremely underdressed in my cons, jeans, and flannel shirt. “Well, I pissed him off and he kicked me out. I really need to find a place of my own. I mean, it’s nice of the Slatters and all, but I don’t belong there.”
“I’m not sure Granddad would let you move anywhere else.”
“That’s true.” I laugh at the thought of it. “What about you, Sterling? Clearly you’re coming home.”
He lets the waiter pour two glasses of wine before he answers me.
“Left home when I graduated high school and explored the world a bit, but I guess like they say there’s no place like home.”
“You’re lucky you have a home to come home to.”
“Yeah, you’re right. My dad has fallen ill and I need to be here for him.”
“And remind me how do you know the Slatters?” I ask as I sip on my sweet wine.
“Graduated with Maverik. We were best friends growing up, or at least his second best to Ella.”
Just the mention of their names brings a goofy smile to my face. “They are something else—a real love story, uh?”
“Oh yes they are.”
We order our food and never quit talking while we wait for it. The first bottle of wine is finished before our food even comes, so Sterling orders another one. The sweet and refreshing liquid quickly relaxes me, putting me into a very comfortable state. Our conversation flows easily, from our likes to dislikes and a little bit of both of our backgrounds.
“So, I’m a stud and you’re a nerd?” Sterling asks as he finishes his last bite of steak.
I giggle back to him and only nod as I indulge in my dinner.
“Hey, they say opposites do attract.”
“And you’re blind and think I’m beautiful, it’s like magic.”
“You are gorgeous, Clover.”
And even through my drunken induced stated I feel embarrassed at his compliment.
“What’s going on with Marvel?” I ask and watch Sterling freeze.
He just shakes his head from side to side.
“Tell me.” I nearly plead with him.
“It’s not good, Clover, but he has his whole family there to watch after him.”
“Is he in trouble?” I know at this point I should shut up. One, it’s rude to be talking about another man, and two, I totally swerved the topic of me being beautiful.
“Yeah, he’s in trouble.”
“I want to help him.”
“Best if you stay out of it, Clover, and I’m serious about that.” He rakes his fork over his plate a couple of times. “You enjoying yourself?”
I nod to Sterling, trying to process Marvel’s whole situation.
&
nbsp; “Good, then maybe there’ll be a second date.” He stands from the table, tossing down his napkin on his empty plate. “Excuse me for a second.”
I follow him as he makes his way to the bathroom and feel lonely as soon he disappears behind the door. An unexplainable whirl of emotions flows through me as my head spins a bit. I try to focus in on the present, the right now, Sterling, who has taken me out. I clutch to the stem of my wine glass and finish it off. Fighting to keep Marvel from my thoughts.
* * *
Too much wine. Way too much damn wine. My head reminds me of it with each step I take down the hall. I picked the wrong morning to be utterly hung over. After Sterling dropped me off and I dodged the kiss he leaned in for, I sprinted to my door and found an old bottle of whiskey in my cupboard and didn’t let an ounce of it go to waste.
“Clover, room twenty-eight is all yours.”
Internally I groan knowing that’s Marvel’s room, and I’m definitely not ready to put up with shit this morning.
“Thanks.”
“Yep, his one bandage comes off this morning and he’s at physical therapy right now. And to no surprise he’s in a horrible pissy mood.” My co-worker hands over a stack of papers to me.
“Oh joy.” I offer up a fake smile.
I have a hunch as to why he’s in a pissy mood, but then shake it off thinking it would be silly for Marvel to be jealous of Sterling and me. Hell, he doesn’t even like me, and there’s nothing between Sterling and me. The more my thoughts play out in my head the more it pounds, causing dizziness to take over.
I focus on my rounds, delaying the obvious, and only hope the physical therapist brings Marvel back to his room. If that happens, then I have at least another hour before I have to face him. With each task I complete the more I feel gutted and can’t quite put my finger on what’s bringing me down so rapidly.
I keep a steady hand while finishing up all my chart work before checking in on Marvel—my last patient. As my shaky hand raises to knock on his door before entering, a loud crashing sound fills the air. Every single one of my nurse instincts kicks in at once, leaving behind any emotions or feelings I may or may not be experiencing when Marvel is involved.
Swinging the door wide open, a sight lays before me that threatens to crush my heart. Marvel face down on the ground fighting to get up to his feet with his body fighting him on every single movement.
“Marvel,” I holler his name and leap in his direction while pushing the nurse button on his bed for more help. As soon as my palm hits his shoulder, I feel him relax as he looks up over his shoulder.
“Clover.” A wave of relief washes over his face when we make eye contact.
“I’m here, Marvel.” I grip onto both of his shoulders, trying to help him up from the ground. “Are you okay?”
He plants both of his palms on the tile floor beneath him, fighting to steady himself. I watch as the muscles in his arms quiver in exhaustion.
“Marvel, stop, I’ll help you.”
He looks back at me one more time and there’s a frigid mean look in his eyes that cannot be mistaken. His whole body shivers as he refuses to give up fighting.
“Marvel, stop fighting me.”
“How was your date?” The intense anger that laces his voice is scary and downright bone-chilling.
“I’m your nurse and here to help you.”
“Don’t touch me, you bitch.”
His whole body flops to the floor with a loud thump and I swear I hear his sternum crack in half as he does. Marvel lies still for merely a few seconds before he rotates his head to the side.
“I tried being the good guy,” he says before pushing up off the floor once again. His whole body fights against him as he urges his legs to work with him. It’s clear he’s beyond exhausted from therapy and too damn stubborn to take any help from me.
“Marvel, enough dammit. You’ll never get back home if you keep this up.”
He lets out a devilish chuckle. “Good, I don’t deserve it.”
“Stop.” My voice is nearly a scream as I slap him on the back. “Stop all this damn madness and your selfishness now.”
I don’t ask him anything else or even try to coax him to cooperate with me as I grip onto his forearms and rise to my feet ready to drag him up. He needs help right now and from me, but the stubborn asshole refuses to ask and only turns to anger. I get only having one thing to turn to, but eventually even that runs out.
“You’re being an asshole, Marvel Slatter. You have a family who loves you and beautiful ranch to call home, but yet you lie here refusing to live or even fight for a recovery, and to me that just spells asshole.” I let go of his arms and stand, sick of his attitude. “Actually, I’m insulting the word asshole by calling you it. You’re a prick. A bona fide, assholish prick.”
I pretend to wipe my hands clean of him and go to turn around. “When you want help I’ll be right over here in the chair.”
I yearn to add so much more to the end of that sentence, to explicitly illustrate to him what he’s done to me and my psyche. I’ve smelled the smell of rotting flesh because of him, witnessed the first man die in front of my own eyes because of him, and been kicked out by my own family because of him. As the thoughts run rampant in my mind, I want to kick the asshole straight in his recovering ribs.
“Clover.”
I look down to the grown ass adult in front of me lying on the floor. Each of his muscles still strain to regain control of his own body, but none seem to work together. A part of me feels the resenting anger toward him boiling up inside while the other half wants to run to his rescue once again.
He stutters out my name one more time before grabbing my attention.
“What?” I finally snap back at him. “What in the hell do you want?”
My emotions and boiling rage get the best of me as I snap.
“I’m sorry, Clover. I’m so sorry.”
“Marvel, you’re an asshole and have pushed me to the point of not wanting to help you.” I slam my hands down on the wooden armrests of the chair. “I’m a damn nurse, and I’m nearly enjoying watching a patient suffer right in front of me. What have you done to me, Marvel?”
He pushes himself up one more time and repeats sorry before I watch him completely collapse onto the tile floor. It’s like every single muscle in his body shuts down automatically. I lurch forward but not fast enough before I hear the sound of his face colliding into the stone cold floor of his hospital room.
Blood pools around his face as I reach down to help him up, and it’s his lifeless body that makes me react.
“Help. I need help in here,” I scream out as panic threatens to take over.
My fingertips are soaked in his blood as I fight to turn over his body. The crimson liquid flows from his nose.
“Marvel.” I repeat his name over and over again as I finally get him cradled up in my lap. He doesn’t respond at all. He’s out cold. I hear the creaking of the door open and then Maverik’s voice. It’s loud and demanding but I’m unable to process any of the words. Marvel’s body begins to writhe in mine. His eyes open for a split second and then begin rolling back in his head, and with no warning his body jolts and jerks into a full seizure.
Immediately I roll him over to his side, keeping his head cradled and protected in my lap while checking his airway. Maverik’s voice grows louder as Marvel’s seizure doesn’t let up. It feels like hours fly by while I protect his head from the punishing tile floor.
I’m a nurse and this should be nothing but routine, but picturing him only moments ago struggling to stand on his own and repeating sorry over and over again stings my fucking heart. The same organ that’s fallen in love with him.
12
Marvel
“What’s the other guy look like?” Merek plops down in the leather chair next to my bed. “Oh wait, you got into it with the fucking floor.”
“Fuck off.” Even talking hurts my cracked lip and broken nose.
“Damn, yo
u’re so fucking bullheaded. When did you get so stubborn?”
I sit up in the bed and feel relief that the only throbbing pain stems from my nose. “Tired of being walked on.”
“Well, you need to get a grip, kid. I remember being angry at the world and fighting back, but guess who it hurt?”
I don’t even try to answer his question because I know exactly where this is leading to, and he’s going to talk about. I was there and watched him suffer when Challis pushed him away. Hell, I was the glue that held the ranch together by staying home and working my ass off. I don’t need his sob story, or anyone else’s for that matter.
“You’ve got to let go of the anger, Marvel. Does you no good. The agents are on Saint’s ass and will have him nailed for this shit.”
I sit up in bed, swinging my legs over the side, and begin to pick at my gray sweatpants. “Merek, there’ll always be bad guys who always win. I’m sick of it.”
“You need to get a grip and figure out what you want in life.”
“I want to go home, dammit.”
“Well, you are tomorrow.”
I’m still shocked the doctor is releasing me after my little fit and seizure. They chalked it up to extreme exhaustion after my physical therapy session. I’d worked my body to complete and utter exhaustion. All I remember was Clover and then blacking out.
The door to my room swings open with Maverik on the other side and lil’ Mav by his side. “Damn, your face will be perfect for the news conference tomorrow.”
Maverik and Merek look at each other and then bust up laughing, and I know it’s my face that’s the butt of the joke.
“Always knew you weren’t much of a fighter, but to have your ass handed to you by the floor is bad, little brother,” Maverik says.
“Jesus, you two are annoying.”
“Time for meds.” I look up to see Clover standing in the doorway holding up the paper cups filled with my assortment of pills. I offer her a weak smile. I haven’t had the time to talk to her but need to. I cannot and will not blame her again for my situation or make her the center of my hate.