The two thugs are moaning and writhing on the floor like the poisonous viper snakes they are. But they’re alive and that’s all I need to know.
I fall back to my knees, a strange fatigue taking over my entire body. I get dizzy and nauseous and my headache comes back as strong as ever.
“We’ll need an ambulance,” Nate says.
Tomas picks the guns off the floor and takes out his phone to call 911.
I fall forward on my hands, trying to catch my breath. Nate comes to my side, picking me up softly and resting my head against his chest. “Are you hurt?” he says.
“I can take a punch,” I say. “Taylor’s in bad shape and Ashley’s having a nervous breakdown. Go check on them.”
“The ambulance and the police will be here soon,” Tomas says, leaning over Taylor. There’s real concern on his face and I like that.
Nate helps Ashley sit up, stroking her hair. “It’s okay,” he says. “You’re safe now. I don’t think you’re hurt, are you?” Ashley shakes her head as she bursts into tears. Nate hugs her tight until her shaking calms.
Taylor’s lying on the floor, with Tomas’ jacket for a pillow. “Grace,” she says, “are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Taylor. You’re the one who’s going to need some time off.”
“I’ll heal physically,” she says, “but the rest of it I’m not so sure.”
“What do you mean?” Nate cuts in.
“That guy had his hands all over Grace. I tried to stop him,” her voice trails off as a sob catches in her throat.
Nate looks at me inquisitively. “He touched you? How?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about it. Let’s please move on.”
Apparently he doesn’t think we can. He grabs Baldy by the collar and yanks him up. Screams of pain and agony escape the guy’s mouth. He can barely stand on his two legs. Bones are definitely broken in there.
“Is that the guy?” Nate asks me but I refuse to answer.
“The other one,” Taylor offers.
Nate drops Baldy to the floor and moves on to the other one. He picks the golf club up and shouts at him. “Right handed or left handed?”
“What?” G. manages to say through a bloody mouth.
“It’s easy enough,” Nate says. “Are you right handed or left handed? If you don’t answer, I will have to break them both.”
Cold sweat runs along G.’s forehead. His body trembles as his eyes dart at me, begging for mercy. I have none left. I’m tired and about ready to throw up.
“I didn’t do anything,” he says.
“Fine, I’ll use law of probability,” Nate says. “Right.”
He whips the golf club down for a thunderous blow on G.’s right hand smashing most of the knuckles and fingers in the process. The thug screams out a terrible cry of pain before he starts crying like a child, but the worst sound is the echoing of crackling bones that gets stuck in my ears.
“Holy shit,” I say. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I should have killed him,” he says. “Nobody touches you against your will ever again and lives.”
“Does that mean you plan to come back?”
He evades the question by putting a kiss on the top of my head.
“You were right, Nate,” Taylor says.
“About what?”
“I was the one to put her in danger after all.”
“Shush, don’t talk,” Tomas says. “There’ll be time for that. We’ll all go to that Cheesecake Factory again.”
When I hear the distant sirens, my heartbeat starts to relax finally. We will be safe. We are in the hands of the men who saved us. There will be doctors here soon and police and clean linen at the hospital.
“How could you know?” I ask Nate when the paramedics rush to Taylor’s side. “Where did you guys come from? I don’t understand.”
He hangs his head as if in shame. “If I tell you, you’ll be mad.”
“Try me.”
He lifts his head to stare into my eyes. “I had Tomas follow you,” he says and then moves out of the way for the paramedics to check my vital signs before they move me to a stretcher.
Chapter 24
The examining room in the ER is smaller than I would have anticipated. There is barely room for an uncomfortable bed, some cabinets on one wall, one chair and, of course, the annoying bleeping machine with its long wires strapped to my waist and chest.
I’ve already been examined and deemed fit enough to go home but I still have to wait for the morning for the paperwork to be completed before I am released. Nobody has bothered to, at least, unhook me from the machine that’s checking my vitals.
The fact that I hate hospitals, however, is overshadowed by the fact that I don’t know what’s going on with Taylor and Ashley or why Nate is not by my bedside. The nurse finally makes an entrance with the precious paperwork.
“These are your aftercare instructions,” she says, softly. “Take it easy and schedule an appointment with your doctor as soon as possible.”
“Got it,” I say, starting to unglue the suction cups or whatever they’re called from my skin.
“Let me get that for you,” she says, rushing to my aid.
“Thank you,” I say, wondering where my things are.
The nurse reads my thoughts. “Your things are in that black plastic bag,” she says. “You know, if you have trouble sleeping or talking about what happened, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to see a therapist.”
“I have it covered,” I say, finally free of my tethers and reaching for the black bag.
“Be well,” she says with a smile before moving on to her next patient.
I dig into the bag looking for my phone but when I find it, I have no idea who to call. I was in such a hurry to get out of here, I forgot to ask what room Taylor is in.
I exit the room, trying to locate the reception area to get info on Taylor and Ashley. As I turn a corner, I come upon a sitting area for hospital visitors. Nate’s sitting there looking like my own personal angel. I am overwhelmed by him completely. I need to be with him now like I need to breathe.
It takes me a moment to collect myself. His eyes lift from his phone to see me standing here in my stinky T-shirt and jeans, my hair a mess and my lip fat from Baldy’s elbow.
“They let you go,” he says as I sit beside him.
“Just a few bumps,” I say, punching his shoulder.
“On the outside,” he says, furrowing his brow.
“I’m fine, Nate. I was hoping you’d wait in the room with me.”
He barely notices my intimate tone. “Well, it’s over now,” he says. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
He stares down at his phone again and it finally dawns on me that as far as he’s concerned nothing has changed. Nate has no intention of coming back to me, no wish to resume our relationship. He’s here but still gone.
I fight to keep my tears in check and swallow down the knot that’s taken over my windpipe. “Thank you for saving my life,” I say, staring at the faded wallpaper patterns of the sitting area. It’s a fucking lonely world.
“You would have handled them yourself,” he says. “You looked like a wild cat when you jumped them.”
I try to smile for him but fail. “Is this goodbye?” I ask.
He takes his time before he gives me an answer. “I don’t know what it is,” he says. “All I know is I can’t be around you now.”
I resist striking his head with my bag. “That’s so lovely of you to say.”
“Wouldn’t you have said goodbye sooner or later?” he says. “Maybe you would have preferred to be the one to break things off?”
“Why would I prefer that? What are you talking about?”
He considers my unhappy eyes. “Remember when I showed up that night with a haircut? You kept mentioning the way I looked like it was a weapon I was using against you.”
“I did not,” I say, not entirely sure if that’s true.
“G
race, you weren’t the first,” he says. “You think I like the way I look?”
“You are more than your looks,” I say. “You have a good heart.”
“You don’t have to do that. I know where you stand.”
“I’m not following.”
He pushes his hair back and shakes his head. “I’m sick and tired of strangers cozying up to me, lusting after my flesh. I never had an authentic connection before you. I wanted to change for you. You liked me when I was raggedy and lost. When you reciprocated the kiss at the library, I felt as though anything was possible.”
I search for words but I’m stopped cold by his icy gaze.
“I knew I was playing with fire. I knew you were authentic and I had no clue who I was at all. I thought sex with you would break me from a prison. I didn’t seriously think we could be together long term. I was just not ready to play at that level. I knew I would never be able to keep you,” he goes on, “but I didn’t know what to do with my growing feelings. I never had feelings like that for a woman before.”
“So you stood me up without a call?”
“I had to, Grace. I needed to put some order to the thoughts in my head. I didn’t want to spill my life’s insanity out and scare you away.”
“I don’t scare easy,” I say. “Not anymore.”
Nate clears his throat, rubbing his hands together. “That rainy night when I waited for you at the rescue shelter I thought I would suffocate. I picked up a fight before I came to your place, on purpose. I never even fought back. I just sat there and got beaten up until the guy realized I was setting him up. I wanted the physical pain to numb what I was starting to feel inside.”
Something’s off. He’s going back to the beginning and yet he already brought about the end. He’s answering all the questions I asked that he would never answer, but he’s not answering them for me at all. He’s answering these questions for himself.
“Excuse me, Nate. What the hell’s going on?” I say. “Why are you reviewing your every action when we met? Do you regret it so much?”
His eyes engage mine but in a new way. They’re distrustful. “I thought I knew everything about you, I thought you were so much like me except I missed one thing. You had loved before and you had loved deeply.”
“Jack?” I say shocked.
“I’m not mad at you,” he goes on, frustrating me even further. “I have no right to be. It’s not a crime you had a life before me. But you should have told me the moment you knew I was madly in love with you.”
I can’t take it anymore. “Tell you what?” I ask him, raising my voice a tad louder than I should in a hospital waiting area. “I had a past boyfriend?”
“It doesn’t even matter now,” he says. “Forget it.”
“Do you think you are the only one to have feelings they couldn’t control?” I tell him, staring into his blue eyes. A sob escapes my mouth even though I’m not crying. “You did this,” I say.
“I tried to be honest,” he says.
“Well, you honestly made me love you,” I say angrily.
“I can’t make you do that,” he says.
I reach for his chin and turn his face directly to mine. “Well, I do. I love you, Nathan. I’ve always loved you. You broke my heart.”
For a moment, he’s completely taken aback by my declaration. I don’t understand. I know I’ve never actually said the words, but by God, haven’t I shown him over and over? This should hardly be a surprise.
I think he’ll finally explain himself when Jack shows up.
Jack spots me and then Nate, who suddenly withdraws back into his dark and distant mood. He picks up his phone and pretends he’s alone. Weird.
I get up and walk to Jack.
“Grace, are you okay?” Jack says. “Should you be standing?”
“I’m fine,” I say dismissively. “Why are you here, Jack?”
“I came to see how you’re doing.”
Am I missing something? “How did you know?”
“Cody told me.”
“Cody? How did he know?” I pause. Of course, Taylor called him. So much for not wanting to see him ever again.
“I just came from seeing Taylor,” Jack says. “I’ve never seen her spirit so down, but the doctor said she’ll be fine.”
“That’s a relief to hear,” I say. “She got the worst of it.”
Nate stands up. “Well, you have company now,” he says.
I grab his forearm. “No,” I say, “you can’t go. We’re not done.”
He pulls his arm away. “I have to go down to the police station to finalize my statement.”
I forgot all about that mess. “Will I have to do the same?”
“It’s likely,” Nate says. “I’m sure they’ll contact you.”
I don’t know how to make him stay or how to get him to come back. “Promise me you won’t leave the country without saying goodbye,” I manage to get out.
“Leave the country?” he says. “Why would you say that?”
I shrug. “Maybe you decided to go to Greece with Tomas and Taylor.”
“Sounds like a descent into hell,” he says. I watch him walk away knowing the real pain has not started yet. It will come when the adrenaline rush finally dies and I’m left alone in my little apartment haunted by him.
Jack eyes me curiously. “You really like that guy, don’t you?”
“I love him, Jack,” I say simply, tired of pretending. “Not that it matters. He’s done with me and he won’t tell me why.”
Tears come, flooding my eyes. I have no idea why I’m confiding in Jack of all people but it feels good. All the terror of the past hours suddenly weighs on me unexpectedly. My shoulders shake with every sob. “He saved me tonight,” I whimper. “I guess I can’t ask for much more.”
Jack hugs me tight. His heavy breath tickles my neck. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You could have died tonight. I’ve caused you so much pain.”
I pull away to look at him. “You? Jack, our past is forgiven. We’re friends. Stop being so hard on yourself. I’ve come to value our friendship.”
“Here’s the deal,” he says. “That guy of yours, he should not doubt you if he truly loves you.”
“Doubt me? He’s just tired of me. Plain and simple.”
“How could he tire of you?” he says.
I study his nervous eyes. “I know that face, Jack. What is it? Why would you say he doubts me?”
“It’s just,” Jack says and then stops cold.
“Tell me or so help me,” I say, slapping his wrist. “You could never lie to me decently.”
He exhales as his eyes dart around calculating stuff in his head. The more he stalls, the more I worry. “Try not to hate me too much,” he says.
“I’m not at all interested in hate,” I say, growing impatient.
“Let’s sit,” he says.
“Jack!”
“Remember the day at The True Blue? I didn’t take you there because I wanted to watch the Clippers’ game.”
“I figured this much. You never paid any attention to the screen. It was all about your grandmother’s ring.”
“No, it wasn’t. Not entirely.”
“What do you mean?” I say, perplexed.
“I took you to the bar because I knew who was going to show up. I wasn’t a hundred percent certain but my bet paid off.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Who showed up?” I say. “And will this become relevant at some point?”
“Your boyfriend’s friend.”
“My boyfriend’s friend? You mean Tomas?”
“The blond one, yes.”
“How did you know that?” I say, confused.
“I did some research with the help of some friends.”
“Why would you research Tomas or anyone else?”
He shakes his head. “Grace, c’mon, you know I didn’t research Tomas. I researched Nathan. The two are often linked. They are, let’s say, colorful.”
“Yo
u’ll have to explain this clearly,” I say, refusing to believe what my brain has started to put together.
“My friends found out that this Tomas guy liked to play pool at The True Blue Tavern every day around noon. I took you there with the intention of being seen when I put that ring on your finger. I figured from a distance, one might get the wrong impression.”
“What the hell, Jack!” I say just as the reality of everything starts to link together at rapid speeds. “He thought you were proposing to me.”
“I never thought it would work,” he says. “I figured you and what’s-his-name would discuss it. I was just compelled to try. I’m an ass.”
“And then I kissed you,” I say, mortified.
“That was the plan.”
“The champagne,” I say.
“Part of the plan.”
“Tomas must have gone straight to Nathan. But you’re right. Why didn’t Nate confront me? I could have explained.”
“There’s more,” Jack says.
I glare at him. “More? You’re kidding.” I don’t even know if I want to listen to him anymore. I might kill him right in the ER.
“The next morning I went to your place when you were at work,” Jack continues. “Nathan was there and we talked.”
“Jack, what the hell were you doing?”
“I told him a lot of shit. I told him I had proposed. That we’d been dating on and off for the past year until he showed up. That you never got over me. That you lost it when you found out I was sick, that you wanted to be with me to care for me until the end. I asked him to give us space to explore our feelings. He listened to the whole drivel without moving. He said he didn’t believe me. I showed him your mother’s good luck ring. Told him you gave it to me as a promise ring. I think that did it.”
“The ring I lost,” I mutter. “You never gave it back after you took it off my finger.” It all starts to make sense. Nate’s strange behavior the night after I met with Jack and then his sudden departure.
Jack can’t look at me.
I take sympathy on him. “Listen, Jack. You could have lived eighty years and been nothing but a selfish bastard the whole time. Look at this diagnosis as a second chance. Maybe you can become worth a shit and know love in the years to come. The way you’ve gone about things thinking only of yourself would have led to nothing but a horrible life.”
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