Cops?
“They know you were attacked by Sydney, but not why. There is an APB out on him, but he’s disappeared somewhere. They’re looking for him.”
You’re okay?
“I’m unhurt, yes,” she said, maintaining control of herself as she read my words. “Why’d you attack him, Kade?”
I lost my control . . .
“Well, Kade Prescott, I love you, and I don’t ever want to feel your blood staining my hands again. You understand me?”
What about the blackmail?
“I don’t care about that right now,” she said quietly.
I looked into her eyes, seeing unimaginable strength, and nodded. Taking my pen in hand again, I wiped the board clear and wrote what was important then. Okay. I love you.
There was a knock at the door, and a doctor came in. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, and had the satisfied demeanor of a man who’d done a good job. I immediately erased what I’d written and looked up at him. “Hi, Mr. Prescott, I’m Doctor Harrington. I was your lead surgeon on your patch job.”
How is it?
“Not as bad as it could have been,” he said after reading the note. “The blade punctured your diaphragm but didn’t get the lungs themselves, so most of the work was in repairing the diaphragm itself and making sure everything stays where it is supposed to be. How’s your stomach feel?”
Numb, can’t really feel anything below my chest.
“Good, we’ve got a nerve block in there right now, but that’s going to be wearing off soon. I’m not going to lie, it’s going to be painful. Want to see?”
I nodded, and the doctor came over to lift my blanket down before undoing my thin cover. The bandage ran for about six inches, from just below my nipple line to about halfway down my stomach. “We had to do what’s called a laparotomy, mostly to open up the chest and stitch the diaphragm shut, then go poking around to make sure that you didn’t have any other major injuries. You nicked a few things in there, but nothing too major. Whatever you were stabbed with, it was small enough to just scrape over your xiphoid process and get the diaphragm itself mostly, without penetrating enough to get to the lungs.”
What’s my recovery time?
“Oh, you’re going to be on the mask for at least a few more days,” Dr. Harrington said. “And you’re going to be in a lot of pain for those few days. The diaphragm is a tough muscle, and we did a good job fixing the hole, but it’s still not going to be pleasant. After that, a few weeks if there are no other complications.”
I suppose this ruins my swimsuit season.
“You could say that. You’re going to have a very impressive scar there when all is said and done.”
The doctor patted me on the shoulder. “By the way, I heard that you are Derek Prescott’s son. Alix here was very insistent that we not tell him about the true nature of your injuries, but if you want, he’s supposed to be making a statement for the live news. Would you like me to turn it on?”
I nodded and Harrington reached over my head and found the television remote. He hit the switch, and the small TV near my bed flashed on. He switched around until he found the local ABC news and handed me the remote. “You mind if I watch here with you? Your father spearheaded a fundraising drive for the hospital last year, and I’d love to see what he’s got to say live.”
“Of course, Doctor,” Alix said, reaching over and taking my hand. The tagline on the screen read Local Community Leader to Make Announcement, Expected to Run for Congress.
“Congress, huh? Well, he’s got my vote,” Harrington said. “Your father’s a good man. And you delayed telling him for this?”
“The police, I’m sure, will inform him soon enough, and they’re coming as soon as the event is over,” Alix said. “By the way, thank you for letting me stay.”
“Your insurance more than covers me bending the rules for family visits,” Harrington said. He pointed at the screen, and held up his finger. “Shhh, it’s starting.”
The first person on screen was actually someone I knew, one of the other partners at Dad’s law firm. He made a brief statement welcoming everyone before quickly introducing the current Congressman, who had declared two weeks prior that he was running for the newly vacant Senate seat with the retirement of California’s senior senator. There was a pretty good response to him as he took the podium. “Thank you all. When I decided to run for the Senate, I knew that by state election rules, it was an all or nothing choice. I’m not normally a man willing to take such a risk, but that was because I wanted to make sure the people of the 46th District were in good hands. It took me a bit of time to find the person who could take over, but I knew as soon as I asked the next man, that I had found exactly the right person to take over for me. So I’d like to take this opportunity to introduce you to the next Congressman from the 46th District, Derek Prescott!”
Dad got a great reaction, and in the background Sammy Hagar’s Remember the Heroes played mutedly. Dad took the podium after shaking hands with the Congressman and waved to the group.
Before he could speak however, someone at the front of the crowd raised his hand and started demanding to ask a question. Dad looked down at his notes and shrugged. “Sure, why not? You all know I’m here to run for Congress, that’s the important point. Why not answer some questions for you all?”
The reporter, a youngish guy that I could barely see, took the portable mike that a staffer brought him. “Mister Prescott, is today the best time to declare your candidacy, in light of the events of today?”
“If you’re referring to my son being in a traffic accident, it is unfortunate, but the hospital assures me that Kade is in stable condition. In fact, after this is over, my wife and I are going to the hospital to see him in person. I know it comes off as a bit hard-hearted, but Kade knows that sometimes service requires sacrifice, so I’m trying to put the needs of the people in front of my personal desire to see my son.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, Mister Prescott. I meant, in light of the video released to the Internet an hour ago of your son and your stepdaughter engaging in sexual relations, do you still feel like you’re the right person to be running for Congress?”
The uproar was tremendous, as confusion reigned and Dad sat there, stunned. “What are you talking about?”
The reporter, who was still trying to comment over a dozen other screamed questions, held up his phone, giving it to Dad. Dad looked at the screen for a moment before dropping it to the ground, his hand going to his head and him falling backward. Confused yelling was replaced by a scream as Layla knelt down next to Dad, who was out flat on the ground. In a scene that would be replayed over and over again for the next week, she lowered her head to Dad, then to his chest, before looking right in the direction of the ABC camera. “Someone get a doctor, he’s not breathing!”
CHAPTER 23
ALIX
I felt like everything was moving in slow motion as I waited for Derek and Mom in the emergency room. In a great sense of irony, Derek’s press conference was held in a hotel just miles from where Kade had been brought for surgery, so instead of having to rush across town, I just had to go down ten floors in the elevator.
One of the nurses, who’d been tasked with escorting me, stayed right next to me in the elevator. “I’m sure it was just a temporary thing,” she said. “He was most likely shocked.”
“I hope so,” I said distractedly. I could see the look on her face, and I turned, suddenly furious. “What? You think I’m some sort of fucking freak or something?”
The nurse shook her head, raising her hands. “What? No, not at all.”
I felt my heart thudding, and hissed through clenched teeth. “I love him, goddammit. And he’s not blood, okay?”
The nurse nodded and looked at the elevator door while I stared a hole in her side. As soon as it was there, it was gone, and my anger evaporated, leaving behind nothing but fear. “I . . . I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said. �
��It happens in this job. At least you didn’t try and punch me, that’s happened before too.”
The elevator arrived and she followed me in, hitting the button for the first floor. “When we get there, you want to hang back,” she said quietly. “The doctors will need room to treat your stepfather, and if the situation is what they said on television . . . ”
“There will be sparks,” I finished. “I know. Fucking Syd and his goddamn blackmail threats.”
“So it is true?” the nurse asked. “I’m not judging, just . . . I’ve seen you in magazines. I always thought you did good work.”
I shrugged. “I think that part of my life is over now. Not too many designers will want the bad press.”
The nurse nodded and turned back to the doors. “If you love him, then you’ll make it,” she said. “We’re here.”
The doors dinged open to absolute chaos. The press had somehow beaten the ambulance to the emergency room, and the staff was having a hard time controlling the mob. One of the reporters saw me, and even before the doors were fully closed, I was swarmed like vultures to a carcass.
“Do you have a statement, Alix?”
“What led you to sleeping with your brother?”
“Is the video legitimate?”
“Do you think the video caused Derek’s collapse?”
The nurse tried to push the media parasites back in a futile attempt, until one of the security guards forced his way through. Sandwiching me in between them, they got through the throng to one of the exam areas, which was at least behind the security barrier. The guard stayed by my side until the lights of the ambulance came in and the media mob pulled away.
Three police officers escorted the ambulance into the emergency room, forcing their way through along with one of the paramedics, while the doctors leapt into action. I was able to watch as they took him into an exam area, wires and things already running from his chest. Mom was right behind, looking as shell-shocked as I felt.
The nurse, still with me, stayed next to me as I made my way toward the area where they were treating Derek. The doctors pushed everyone out, yanking the curtain closed and cutting off all view of what they were doing, shutting me out. Mom saw me and turned away when I came closer. I reached, but the nurse put a hand on my shoulder, shaking her head. “Mrs. Prescott, we can wait in the exam room over here,” she said to Mom instead, letting the security guard walk with me the few feet back. “Come on, we’ll just be in the way here.”
Mom followed the nurse, who stayed with us in the exam room, which was just a partitioned curtain. Still, the space felt eerily quiet after the chaos of the media scrum. I sat down on the stool, my head in my hands as we waited, Mom saying nothing the whole time.
My ears were aware the whole time to a single sound, the sound of the steady whine that meant that Derek’s heart wasn’t beating. The doctors must have been trying everything, because every once in a while there were a few beeps, but not enough. After what seemed like an eternity, the monitor was shut off, and Mom grew very calm. The entire treatment area was dead silent except for the squeak of the doctor’s shoes coming toward the waiting area.
The doctor pulled back the curtain, her face somber. “Mrs. Prescott, I’m sorry. Your husband . . . there was nothing we could do.”
Mom sat still as a statue, nearly unhearing until I saw a tremble in her shoulder that moved to the side of her face, then to her cheek. In almost slow motion her face cracked, her eyes filling with wild grief that left her sobbing, her face in her hands. “Derek, oh my Derek . . . ” she bawled. “No, not Derek.”
“Mom . . . ” I said, trying to come next to her. I couldn’t even complete my words though as Mom sprang to her feet and slapped me, cutting me off cleanly.
“You . . . you killed him,” she said coldly.
Mom turned and stormed out of the room, leaving me stunned before the world blurred before me, and my own tears started to fall down my face.
* * *
The next thing I was really aware of was a hand resting on my shoulder, and a quiet voice talking in my ear. “There you are, Alix. I’ve been looking all over for you for the past three hours.”
I was outside, not knowing how in the hell I got to where I was, or even where that happened to be. My eyes wouldn’t lift from the dark patch of grass between my feet, dimly illuminated by something behind my right shoulder. “Go away.”
“No can do, Alix,” the voice said again. “I’ve got orders. I’m to watch over you and keep you safe.”
“Who cares? I’m a killer, don’t you know that?” I muttered, staring at my palms. At some point, I’d dug my fingernails into my palms so deeply that there were bloody half-moons inscribed in each hand. “See? I’ve got the blood on my hands and everything.”
“You’re in shock and scared,” the voice said. I could hear that it was a woman’s voice, but that was all I could tell. My circuits were still scrambled, and I wasn’t putting two and two together well enough to make sense of what my surroundings were. “Come on, Princess, it’s after midnight. Let’s go inside.”
At the mention of Kade’s name for me, my head jerked up, that single word penetrating the fog surrounding my brain. Squatting in front of me was Rita, her blond hair barely visible in the dim lights. “How did you . . . ?”
“How do you think? He was so worried when the nurses reported that you’d run through the ER to disappear into the night, he called me. I’ve spent the past three hours trying to find you,” Rita said, standing up enough to sit down next to me. I was on a park bench, although I didn’t know which park I was at. “As you weren’t a patient, the police didn’t launch a search for you, and when hospital staff couldn’t find you on the grounds, I took it upon myself. Lucky I did, too. This isn’t the best neighborhood, you know.”
I looked around again, still not knowing where I was. “Where am I?”
“About a half mile from the hospital, in a park that’s not swarming with homeless junkies, but I still wouldn’t want to hang around here after dark,” Rita said. “Like we are right now.”
I sighed and looked around. “A half mile you say?”
“Half a mile. I’m just glad I didn’t find you wandering the breakdown lane of the freeway or something,” Rita replied. “Come on, sis, let’s get you home, and get some rest. We’ve got a busy day in the morning.”
“Why?” I asked. “And I don’t have a home go to any longer. Sydney violated my home, and Mom . . . Mom . . . ”
I broke down bawling, and Rita held me, letting my tears soak into her shirt. Patting my hair, she let me vent my sadness for long minutes before the tears trickled off. “I know,” Rita said quietly. “The staff told Kade, who told me over the phone. You’re not going to Laguna or back to your house. You’re coming to my place, and while I doubt I have anything that will fit you, Kade’s going to get some people down here to help out. Until then, I’m taking care of you.”
I nodded, then looked over at Rita. “Why? Why are you here?”
Rita put her arm around my shoulder and helped me stand up. “Because I love Kade, and through him I love you too. Because even though he and I will never hook up again, I’m still always going to serve him, because that’s what a good sub does. It’s also what a good mentor does, and that’s what I feel like I’ve been to you. Hell, if I hadn’t encouraged you to go after him, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Do you want to blame me for it now?”
I shook my head, exhaustion dropping over me. “Not your fault.”
“And it’s not yours, either,” Rita replied. “Now come on, before someone approaches us and I have to pull the damn pistol I’ve got in my pants pocket.”
“You have a pistol?” I asked, the words coming through like listening through a wall of cotton.
“No, just an airsoft gun that I sometimes shoot paper targets with,” Rita said, “which is specifically why I don’t want to have to pull the damn thing.”
Rita led me to her car, guiding me into the pas
senger seat. “All right, now buckle up. I’m going to send Kade a text message, the doctor agreed to at least let him get those. If they haven’t doped him up to let his body rest, he’ll be relieved. If not, he’ll get it in the morning.”
“I want to go back to the hospital,” I said, surprised at the little girl’s voice that came from my mouth. “I want to see Kade.”
“Visiting hours start at nine thirty tomorrow. In the meantime, we’ve got to pick some people up from the airport. Kade called some guy named Vince, who’s flying down first thing in the morning.”
I lost all track of time, exhaustion dropping over me again, and the only thing I was aware of for the rest of the night was Rita helping me up the stairs to her apartment and tucking me into her bed. She leaned over and kissed me on the temple, and whispered in my ear. “It’ll be all right, Princess Alix. Trust me.”
I woke up the next morning to find my pillow wet with tears, and Rita sitting next to the bed, a steaming cup of something in her hands. “You didn’t sleep well,” she said matter-of-factly. “Dreams?”
“None I can remember,” I whispered. “I guess I just wished yesterday never happened.”
“What did happen, anyway?” Rita asked. “I mean, there’s the public story about a traffic accident, but then with what you said yesterday, and with the little that Kade texted me . . . ”
I told Rita everything, from the start of it all at the UFC event, to the photo shoot, to Kade and I making love the day before and Sydney walking in on us. I even told her about Paris Nova and how Mom was now pregnant. “Fuck,” she said as I finished my tale. “And so Sydney’s the one who released the video to the Web.”
“Yeah, obviously so,” I said. “I’m sure the cops are looking for him, but Sydney knows how to disappear. He’s from a bad background, he’s probably got connections that can keep him safe for a long damn time.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Rita said, thinking. “But that’s for later. It’s nearly eight o’clock, we need to swing by the airport to pick up Vince before going to the hospital. I know you want to be there as soon as visiting hours start, right?”
Off Limits: A Bad Boy Romance Page 37