by Stacey Lynn
“Shhh. We’ll talk later.”
The sound of stormy waters rushed through my ears as I held her, willing her to calm down while trying to settle myself. It didn’t work for me, but eventually, her cries dwindled, her sniffling stopped, and she relaxed into me.
“I love you,” I whispered. “Love you so damn much. I was so fucking scared when Jaxon called me.”
“I love you, too. I was so scared.”
“I know, but I got you. I promise.”
Not that they were worth much. Jaxon and I had promised her she’d stay safe and wouldn’t get hurt. We both failed her. But there was another day to wallow in guilt, now she needed me to be strong for her.
I held her while she slept, not sleeping a fucking wink well into the middle of the night when a nurse came in to check her vitals.
She glared at me until I climbed out of the bed and settled in the chair next to Paige’s bed. “How is she?”
“Vitals look good,” the nurse said. “We’ll know more in the morning.”
She left the room quietly, and I didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, the adrenaline coursing through my system finally evaporating, or the nurse’s reassurance Paige was doing well, but I rested my arms on the bed, dropped my head, and I was asleep as soon as my eyes closed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
PAIGE
I ached everywhere. Every minuscule movement sent shocks of pain rippling through my entire body.
I’d never been in a car accident before last night. I’d never so much as fallen out of a tree, and I wasn’t athletic enough to play sports when I was growing up.
This was the absolute worst pain I could imagine, and even then, I knew I was still, really freaking lucky.
All last night I’d been battered with nightmares. Hannah’s face floated through my visions, screaming at me, and even as I was drifting awake, already knowing Beaux was right next to me because I could sense him anywhere, I still had no clue why she’d done what she did.
What was she thinking?
I couldn’t reconcile the sweet, playful girl I’d worked with for months with the psychotic and shitty racecar driver she’d been last night.
I’d always thought I was a decent judge of character, but damn, I was way off with her.
I shivered as I remembered the last thing she’d yelled at me, and jerked away, my eyes meeting Beaux’s concerned one.
“You okay?”
“I was thinking of Hannah,” I said, wiping the sleep from my eyes and yawning. “How is she?”
A muscle jumped in Beaux’s cheek and his jaw went tight.
“Beaux?”
“We’ll talk about it later. When you’re better.”
I was sore and in pain, but I was damn lucky. Nothing was broken, nothing permanently damaged. The doctor had said I’d been lucky, might have a few scars where my head crashed into the glass, but my hair could hide them. The possible concussion had concerned him the most, which was the reason they admitted me overnight. Otherwise, I could have been sent home.
“I’m fine, Beaux. Tell me.”
He rolled his lips and heaved a breath. “She wasn’t wearing a seat belt, Paige.”
“What?”
It took me a moment, but I slowly understood. I shook my head, trying to shake away the tears already flooding my eyes. The girl had literally tried to kill me. I knew that even if I didn’t want to admit it. And she was obviously sick, needed some help.
“What happened?” I asked when Beaux didn’t say anything further.
“Babe, she didn’t make it.”
He reached for me, grabbed my hand and held it tight. “She went through the windshield and into a tree.”
“She…” I tried to picture her. Laughing. Smiling. Teasing me. She was so young. Had everything in front of her. The world. Sweet parents. I couldn’t see any of that. All I saw were green eyes as she shouted at me. Her manic screams once she got me in the car. “She died?”
Beaux nodded. A shudder rolled through me and I braced myself for the onslaught of emotion, of tears, or pain, or sadness or whatever.
None of it came.
“You okay with that?”
“No,” I whispered. “I’m not okay with any of this. And I can’t believe it happened. But God, does it make me a bitch to feel relieved she can’t hurt anyone anymore? I wouldn’t want that for her though.”
“Yeah, I know.” His voice was cold as steel and thick as molasses. I looked back at Beaux, jaw tight, muscle popping his jaw, one throbbing at the side of his neck and I reached for him, placed my hand at the muscle on his neck and held him tight.
“I want to go home.”
“Nurse said the doctor would be in here soon, and we’ll talk about it.”
Good. I was still exhausted. Not even sure what time it was or how many times I’d been woken up during the night to have my vitals checked, but I closed my eyes and laid back down.
“When I mean home, I mean yours.”
My voice was slow, thick with exhaustion, and as sleep pulled me back under, I barely heard him reply. “Good. Because that’s exactly where you’re going.”
***
When I woke up again, a nurse was pulling her stethoscope away from my inner elbow and my dad and Beaux were whispering to each other at the side of my bed.
I looked at the nurse first. “All good?”
“Seems that way. Doctor’s making his rounds so he should be in in a few moments. Need anything?”
“Ice water, please.”
“I’ll get it,” Beaux said, stepping from my dad to grab the large plastic cup next to my bed. “I need to stretch my legs.”
I didn’t want him to go. I liked him next to me. I liked hearing him tell me he loved me. That I was going to his place as home. I wanted him to be next to me.
“Maybe—”
“Hush,” he whispered, bending down and gently kissing me. “Your dad wants to talk to you. I’ll be back before the doctor gets here.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah, darlin’,” he said.
He wheeled himself over to me and Beaux gave me another kiss. “Be right back.”
“We need to talk,” Dad said, taking my hand with his good one. It struck me then how frail he was, and I didn’t think all of it was his strokes or being worried about me. He was just getting old.
I bit my lip and nodded. “Okay.”
“First, I need you to know how much I love you and how damn glad I am that you’re okay. When I got that call last night,” he paused, shook his head. My chest burned with emotion but I held it back, staying strong for him. “No dad should ever get that call, scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.”
“I’m going to be okay, Dad.”
“Yeah. And I’m thankful. But thinking of you, how much you’ve given up for me by giving up your job in Charlotte and moving home, taking over the garage, working two jobs, that’s not right.”
“I don’t regret it for a second.”
“Don’t care,” he said, and his voice was thick. Stern. My dad was rarely grouchy, and I pushed up as best I could on my hospital bed and took notice. “Talked to Melanie last night on the way home, and she and I, along with Beaux this morning, made some decisions.”
None of that sounded good. My pulse raced, the beeping of my monitors increased. My dad looked at them and back to me.
“Don’t get mad. But some things need to change and I needed Beaux’s help with some of it.”
“Okay.” I swallowed a thick mass in my throat and squeezed his hand. “Hit me with it.”
“Melanie found me a place at Crossroads Townhomes.”
“What?” I knew the development. It was a fifty-five and older community on a golf course. He was barely eligible. “Why? You’ve always said those places were for old people.”
“I know what I said, but I’ve changed my mind. It’ll be good for me,” he said. “Lots of people around and things to do in the clubhouse. The places are all one-
level and only two bedrooms. It’ll be easier for me to manage.”
Nothing was computing. I shook my head. “But you’re doing better.”
“Yeah, and I don’t need Melanie hovering over me at home, and I don’t need you pausing your life to take care of me.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were. But now you got a man who loves you and a life to lead with him, and you, doing whatever you want. I’ve already talked to Mike. I’m handing over the garage to both of you. He can lead the mechanics and you can handle the garage.” He waved a hand in the air. “Or figure it out for yourselves or walk away. That’s your choice.”
“I like the garage.” I didn’t necessarily want to own it, but it was my family’s. For that reason alone, I didn’t want to let it go. He’d talked before about leaving it to Mike and me, but I had still thought that was years down the road, decades, even.
Emotion gripped me, lodging in my throat. My chin trembled as I stared at my dad. “Everything’s changing so quickly.”
“And it’s about damn time it does. All of this needed to happen. It’s time we move forward.”
“What about when you’re better?”
His brown eyes softened, and he held my hand to his mouth, kissing it. “I ain’t ever gonna get one hundred percent better, Paige, sweetie. And even if I do, I’m still getting old. I’m tired of being alone. I don’t want to be a burden to you, and I need to live my life the best I can. It’s not living in that house, unable to take care of it, unable to take care of myself. This development gives me that freedom, plus, they have an on-site medical facility so I can continue getting help if I need it.”
“So it’s all decided, then.” This was a lot of information thrown at me at once, and Beaux had promised he’d talk to me about these decisions.
Yet, for once, I couldn’t summon the energy to become angry.
Everything my dad said was right, as much I despised change and thinking of him getting older. And Beaux had already proven all he wanted to do was be there for me, to help make my life better.
“Where will I live?” I asked, trying to follow everything my dad was saying.
“In the house, but to be honest, I think you got yourself a man who for a long time, isn’t going to let you out of his sight again, honey. Worried I wouldn’t see the day you found a man who would love you and take care of you the way you needed it, but Beaux’s got that for you in spades.”
Before I could say anything, the door opened and the doctor walked in, Beaux right behind him carrying my water.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
PAIGE
“You have to go,” I whispered to Beaux. Even though I’d told him I wanted to go to his house when I left the hospital, I’d then remembered it was Saturday.
He was supposed to be getting on a plane for an away game.
He scowled at me. “I’m not going. And I’m not playing. You’re nuts if you think I’m leaving you right now.”
I scanned the room. Jaxon had followed us home from the hospital. Melanie and my dad were there. Mike and two other mechanics, Lance and Killian, had come over to welcome me home.
People who cared about me and would protect me, surrounded me.
Nothing would happen, especially with Hannah not being alive, which was still something I was trying not to think about.
“You have to,” I said, my voice firmer. “I’m not having you miss a game when it’s not necessary.” He opened his mouth but I held up my hand. “Please. Do this for me. I’ll be here resting all weekend, just like the doctor ordered, and when you get back tomorrow, I’ll be waiting for you at your place.”
He lost his scowl and grinned mischievously. “Our place.”
“What?”
“Our place. You said my house was your home, so if I agree to go play this game, you agree to move in with me.”
A rush of warmth flooded my veins and it had nothing to do with the blanket covering me or his body so close to mine. We were on the couch, but there were a half-dozen people in the room. A quick scan told me none of them were even pretending not to be listening to this.
“You’re blackmailing me into moving in with you? Now?” My brows rose.
“No. I’m using all the plays at my disposal.” His grin died and his face went serious. “I love you, Paige. I want you there. Everything feels right when you’re in my home. Move in with me.”
Tears blurred my vision and I didn’t bother blinking them away.
He was right. When Beaux showed up at the hospital, all I’d wanted was him. I wanted to be surrounded by him. And with everything my dad had already shared with me about his future plans, there was nothing holding me back.
Not anymore.
“Okay,” I whispered. My fingers slid to his neck, back into his hair. His head fell forward until our lips brushed against each other’s. “I’ll move in with you.”
“And I’ll kiss you properly when your dad isn’t staring us down and we don’t have an audience.”
I laughed against his mouth and he kissed me anyway. It was short and sweet, given the audience, but it still left my breathless. I forgot anyone else was in the room until Melanie whooped and hollered, “Woo-hoo! This calls for champagne!”
***
The Rough Rider’s lost.
I watched the game from my living room in Beaux’s townhome with Dad, Melanie, Shannon, and Mike.
When I agreed to move in with him Saturday, he demanded I pack up and get moved in so he could come home to me, to our home, after he returned from the game. The men from the garage came and moved everything over as I packed my clothes and personal things. But I stayed the night at my dad’s house.
Sunday morning, Jaxon came over and loaded me into his Explorer while everyone else followed us to Beaux’s or met us there.
He was still hanging close even though when he showed up early Sunday morning, he’d said he had one of his men go to Hannah’s apartment. They’d found dozens more photos of Beaux and I together and apart. He said they also found three DVDs, the same kind that had been in the garage. I suspected it wasn’t all they found, but I didn’t ask more questions.
I knew all I needed to know.
They turned around and called Raleigh PD, gave them all the evidence, and Agent Spellman had stopped by shortly after to talk with me about the events that occurred.
Beaux hadn’t been there to hold me while I cried through the story, reliving the fear I’d felt when I realized Hannah wanted to hurt me. But my dad held one hand, Melanie held the other, and even though Beaux wasn’t there, I was still thinking of him, getting through it. When I was done, Agent Spellman handed me his card and told me to call him if I remembered or thought of anything else. The PD would continue investigating but considering it seemed pretty cut and dry that Hannah had been the person sending the notes, I doubted anything would come of it.
I tried, again, to push it all out of my mind. I didn’t know what to think of Hannah, how she’d tried not just to hurt me, but kill me, and willing to take her own life in the process.
I’d deal with it someday when I wasn’t still wearing a brace on my arm, and hearing the screeching of a car slamming through metal in my dreams.
Then the game started, and with each passing quarter, Shannon and I grew exponentially more frustrated. The offense struggled to move the ball. The defense couldn’t stop Seattle’s running game.
In the end, Seattle won twenty-one to six, our only points coming from two, fifty-yard field goals. Beaux left the game looking dejected and I started planning how to help him feel better.
“Well, that sucked,” Shannon said, slumping into the couch next to me. “Oliver’s going to be one grumpy man when he gets home tonight.”
She didn’t sound that upset about Oliver’s grumpiness. From the time I’d spent with them, I figured even if Oliver was upset about the game, one look at his fiancée and he’d turn into a sweetheart.
“How does Beaux take losses?” I asked
. It was their first loss of the season. I hadn’t been around him after one and even after a win he always finds a way he or the team can improve.
“Like he takes everything else.”
Figured. Nothing ruffled the guy, except for me.
“Well, that was fun,” my dad said. “But I need to head back home. Lots to do and lots to start packing up.”
Over the weekend, Dad and I had talked more about his decisions and while they still made me uncomfortable, I now understood them.
This was what he wanted for me. A life with friends and a guy who adored me. I not only wanted it, I’d do whatever I had to keep it.
“I’ll see you soon,” Melanie said, coming to where I was resting on the couch. My back was sore, and while I didn’t have a concussion, my head occasionally throbbed. The worst injury was my sprained wrist, and I was able to handle all of the injuries with Advil. She kissed me on the cheek and stood up. “Call me if you need me.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” she grinned and winked. “Once that hunk of yours gets home, I’m sure you’ll be just fine.”
My cheeks burned. My dad was in the room for crying out loud. “Go away.” I mock glared, and even that was pointless. When Melanie was around, I was almost always laughing and that time was no different.
“I’m going, I’m going. Ready Sam?” She waited until he hobbled over to her, blowing me a kiss so he didn’t have to maneuver around the coffee table with his crutches. “Ready Freddy. Love you, darling.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
Everyone said their goodbyes, clearing out, and leaving me alone with Jaxon. He turned the television station to another football game and I flipped my phone in my hand, debating whether or not to text Beaux.
I always congratulated him after a game, but I didn’t want to say anything to upset him.
I settled on the one thing I knew would make him smile.
I love you.
“You can take off,” I said to Jaxon after I sent the text.
“Not until Beaux’s here.” He’d crossed his arms over his chest on the chair at the other end of the couch, kicked up his feet on the coffee table. Despite his relaxed posture, I knew he was still alert.