Hannah
One week later…
I’m anxious. There’s chaos in my room. Kipley, Mom, Dad, and my nurse all crowd the small space, but my focus won’t pull away from the door.
Where is he?
Doubt eats away at me, nipping at all the spoken promises. Was this all a dream? He’s not coming back. My fingertips are tender from biting my nails, the taste of blood on my tongue as I chew through my cuticles. I rip them from the thin line of my lips. My hands are jittery, so I tug on the clothes my mom brought me to wear home. I swipe my clammy palms down my favorite pair of yoga pants, but they feel rough and loose around my hips. The doctor said I’ll gain weight back in no time, but I’m not worried about being too thin—“too frail” as my mother whispered to my dad—I’m afraid of him not coming back.
After a week of being in the hospital, Levi was released yesterday. He said he’d be back for me, but he hasn’t come back. Swipe after swipe, I brush my hands down my yoga pants to distract myself, but the looming fear doesn’t dissipate. My shirt is suddenly too heavy against my ribcage. I pull it away from my chest, needing my lungs to expand. I’m having trouble breathing.
He’s not coming back.
“Honey, relax.” Mom pats my shoulder, mistaking the pounding of my heart for nerves about being released today. I don’t correct her.
“I am relaxed,” I lie. I’m far from it. My mind flickers back to the last week. The in-depth conversations we’ve had. The confessions of love and promises. He wants a future. He wants kids. He wants me. Then why isn’t he here? Maybe he fed me the words I wanted to hear to help me heal. Cushion the guilt that’s tearing him up inside. Even after I vowed he wasn’t to blame and told him I didn’t hold him responsible for anything that happened. Maybe he…maybe he…
“Baby girl, you’re all set. They just need to go over your follow-up care and we can get you home.” I want to scream that I don’t care about my follow-up care, the importance of taking it slow and starting a regiment with a counselor about working out my traumatic experience—I just want him. I stare up at the clock. It’s a few minutes after ten in the morning. It’s been fourteen hours since he left. Enough time to reconsider. He’s realizing he made a mistake.
He’s not coming—
“Sorry I’m late.” Levi hustles through the door. As if I was the only one in the room, his eyes find mine, locking us in an intimate visual embrace. My cheeks flush with shame. All his honesty, and I doubted him. He eats up the distance between us as I capture my lower lip between my teeth, biting down in hopes it reroutes my emotions and keeps my tears at bay. He pulls me into his arms, and I immediately find comfort in his presence and snuggle my face into his chest. He smells freshly showered.
“Hey,” he says as his lips press into my hairline.
“Hey.”
“Why the sullen face?” he asks.
I press my head further into his shirt, regret causing my lip to quiver at my failed trust in him. “I thought…”
“That you couldn’t wait for me to come rescue you from this god awful hospital and whisk you away to a romantic island only to feed you Savino’s pizza and sex you up ’til you can’t feel your legs?”
My cheeks explode with color, forgetting the room full of family. Thankfully, he says it so softy, it’s only heard by my ears. “Yeah, something like that,” I lie, ashamed at my lack of judgement. I should have never doubted him.
He pulls us apart, exposing the emotions clear as day across my face. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“I… I thought you weren’t coming back,” I confess.
He leans forward, pressing a reassuring kiss to my forehead. “I’m sorry I worried you, but, babe…” he pulls back, needing me to see the sincerity in his eyes, “I’m never leaving.” He waits for his words to resonate before continuing. “I just had to take care of something, and it took me longer than I expected.”
“You kids about ready? I’m pretty sure this place is going to start charging us for using the oxygen in here soon.” My dad breaks up our moment, and we pull away. “Everything all set, son?” he addresses Levi. Confused, my eyes bounce back and forth between them.
“What is all set?” I ask.
Levi nods and faces me. “If you’re okay, I’m going to take you home. But before I do, I have a surprise for you.” I gaze back to my dad for any insight. He smiles back. My mother appears on the verge of tears, but the happy kind. What is he up to? “Of course, if you’re tired or not ready, we can just—”
“No. I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Sure. A lot sure. Super sure.” Levi laughs, grabbing for me, his strong arms cradling me into his chest as he places a kiss to my head without any reservations of my parents watching.
The butterflies that resurface in my belly begin to swarm. A shyness washes over me realizing we’re on full display for my family. Going from a secret to fully exposed couple has to have been a lot to digest. Especially for my parents.
Kipley coughs into his hand, reminding me he’s still in the room. “Okay, let’s get this party started. I’m ready to get home and make my wife cook me a real meal. If I have to eat another hospital meal, my intestines—”
“Okay, we’re good, honey.” Stacey tugs at his arm, shutting him up.
A nurse shows up with a wheelchair, insisting it’s hospital policy for me to be wheeled out. Levi takes control, insisting boyfriend duties. Levi’s car is parked up front. My mom hands over my bag of things I’ve collected since my stay. Dad gives me a kiss goodbye and tells me he loves me, followed by my brother and Stacey. Before too long, it’s only the two of us on our way back home.
“Are you going to tell me what this surprise is?” I ask.
His eyes leave the road to look at me, a slight curve at the corner of his mouth. The anticipation has me jittery in my seat. He waits a few short seconds, which feel like forever before he answers. “No.”
“Oh! Come on! I hate surprises.”
“I know. And that’s what makes this all the more exciting.” He returns his sight to the road, seeming pleased with himself for torturing me. I don’t push further, and he doesn’t say another word. His hand slides across the center console, engulfing mine under his strong hold. We stay connected the entire forty-five-minute drive home. It’s not until we’re pulling up to his place that my curiosity piques.
“What are we doing here?”
He doesn’t answer me right away. We pull into the underground lot and park in his designated spot. Shutting the car off, he opens his door.
“Quick stop,” he says, then climbs out, hurrying over to my side to assist me out. “Take it easy. I’ve got you.”
“I’m fine.”
“And I still want to baby you, so let me.” He holds my hand as I climb out, working hard to hide the small wave of dizziness. As much as I argue I’m completely recovered, the concussion keeps setting me back. Not to mention the thirty-seven stitches in my side that itch like hell when they rub against my shirt. We walk as he guides me to the elevator and the front door of his condo. He has to let my hand go to dig for his keys, and when he unlocks the door, he steps aside. “After you.”
I step through the threshold and head to the couch for a much-needed break after the short walk from the car. It’s not until I’m halfway through his condo I notice it.
A frame sitting on the end table by his couch that wasn’t there before. It’s a picture of us.
A throw blanket resting across the cushion, along with throw pillows. Girly throw pills. My eyes take flight, soaring around his place at the sudden explosion of life. Colorful paintings. Sports memorabilia mixed with an old boyband poster from my room at home. What in the…? A pile of books on the coffee table, the dust jackets familiar because they’re some of my favorites. I open my mouth, then close it again. Like a fish out of water, I gasp for the words to form the questions. But they don’t come.
“Come with me.” He takes my shaky
hand and guides me down the hallway. I don’t remember my feet moving, but it’s then we’re in his room. He brings us to his closet and opens the door, positioning me so I’m able to get a front row view of half of it full of…
“Are those my clothes?”
I don’t comprehend how long I stand there in shock before whipping around to face him. His hands are shoved in his pockets, his eyes gleaming with the same uncertainty mine did earlier. “I told you before. I’m never leaving you.”
“But…what…?”
“Hannah…” He takes a step closer to me. His hands stay in his pockets, the tips of our shoes our only connection. “I’ve fought hard for the things I wanted in life—football, my career, to be a part of a family—but none of it will compare to how hard I’m willing to fight to make sure you know and never doubt my love for you. You don’t need anyone taking care of you. You’ve always been so tough. An angel behind your warrior suit. I saw the doubt in your eyes today, and it almost brought me to my knees. If your family wasn’t standing there, I’d have shaken you silly until you understood what truly has me consumed with such possessiveness. I want to hide you from the world and keep you for myself. Even though your father and brother would probably try to kill me right on the spot, I was ready. Because like I said, I’m ready to fight. For you. For your trust. Your kindness. Your love. I want to slaughter all your doubts. Kiss away all your fears. And I’m realizing I’m a very selfish man. While I should be allowing you to heal, giving you space to figure out what you want, I can’t stop putting my own needs first. And that’s making sure you know every single day my intentions with you.”
My heart thumps in heavy beats. I hang onto his every word, watching his eyes flare with hope, worry, determination, fear.
“I can’t imagine spending one day waking up and you not being next to me. The sound of your breathing that brings me to life. I took all your stuff and moved it in here. I want you here. I want us to be an us. And I want to take care of you, help you heal. Band-Aid all your fears with my obsession with you.”
At that, I can’t help but laugh. “You’re obsessed with me?”
“I am. It’s becoming a problem. I might as well get a tattoo on my forehead that says WWHD. Because any direction I take, I want to know what you would do. You’re all that matters to me, and I want to never stop putting that smile I crave on your face.”
My eyes shine, a tingling sensation spreading along my entire body. “I don’t really think you need to get a tattoo to show me. I love you too. I would follow you too, wherever.”
Relief settles in his upcurved smile, happiness dancing in his eyes. There’s a nervous energy surrounding him, and I smile wider, enjoying this version of him. “So, this still doesn’t explain my clothes, and I have to ask…how did you find my—your hoodie? I had that thing pretty securely hidden.”
My knees wobble, and Levi panics, mistaking my cause of dizziness on my injury. His hands thrust out of his pockets to steady me, being mindful of my wound. The thing is, it has absolutely nothing to do with my injury. There’s so much beauty in the depths of his eyes, it’s too easy not to get lost in how handsome he is. But I’ve always been consumed by all things Levi Dent. His smile is like oxygen for me. It’s a vital part of my being. It’s no longer a childish fantasy to know exactly how wonderful his hands feel, the taste of his lips, the way his heartbeat speeds up every time we kiss. There’s one thing he and I have in common: I would spend my entire life fighting to be the one who puts that smile on his face.
“You okay? Do you need to sit down? Shit, this is probably too much for you. I shouldn’t force this. I can take you—”
“Yes.”
His eyes widen in shock as if he misheard me. “Yes?”
“Yes. My answer is yes. I’m not sure what you’re really asking, but my answer is yes.”
Understanding sets in, and he realizes he never even got to the point. “Wow, don’t even wait to hear the punishment you’re being sentenced to before agreeing and jumping in blindly to damnation.”
“Well, looks like I’m a sucker for sanction.” I chuckle. “From what I gather, you like me, a lot—”
“Already wrong, I love you.”
I nod, my teasing smirk on full display. “You love me. Good to know we’re on the same page.” He nods, stealing a quick kiss. I continue. “But the girl pillows and band posters tell me you have some deep-rooted fantasy about becoming a teenage girl.”
“So close.” He steals another kiss.
“And the closet tells me this is your retribution for the stolen hoodie. I steal something of yours, you steal everything of mine?”
“God, you’re so sexy when you’re right.” His mouth is so luscious, I lose focus on our conversation and bathe in the ripeness of his lips. “There’s one thing you missed, though.”
“Hmmm?” My eyes fall closed as he rains a path of kisses down my neck.
“I’m hoping for you to live with me in my teenage girl pad, wearing only my hoodie, since that’s what I deserve after being away from it for so long, and let me cherish, spoil, and devour you.” He pulls away, his playful smile now drawn back. “I know this is a lot. You’ve been through hell, and it’s going to take some time to heal. It may not be easy, but I want to be the warrior for once. Let me be your warrior. Play the damsel. Let me show you I can protect you and will never let anything like this happen again.”
“Levi, I told you, this wasn’t—”
“And as much as I fight to believe that, it might take me some time. But what I want you to understand is no matter what, it won’t ever happen again.” He leans forward, brushing his lips to mine, sealing his case with a silent vow. “I love you, Hannah Constance Matthews.”
I can’t fight the smirk on my lips and pull away. “I love you too, Levi…wait, I don’t know your middle name.” I’m amazed there’s something I don’t know about him.
“Maybe if you let me do that little thing with my tongue when you’re feeling better, I’ll tell you.”
His spoken vow shoots a blast of excitement though every nerve ending, setting a spark of fuel to my own obsession. “I’m feeling better.” I’m embarrassed how hoarse my voice sounds.
“How much better?” His tone is deep, like a wolf teasing his prey.
“So much. Actually, maybe too much. Ouch, please. I need you to take care of me like you said. I have this pain…” His eyes shoot to mine, on alert. “Where, where do you hurt?”
Crimson skates across my cheeks. I take my hand and point downward, between my thighs. “Here. It hurts here.”
The musical sounds that erupt from his throat is what fairytales are made out of. His laughter bellows throughout his bedroom, and I can’t help but follow. “Well, I did make a lot of promises, none of which I plan on retracting. So, if that’s what I have to do to prove to my woman she’s the reason for my being, then so damn be it.”
He’s done talking.
Another giggle bursts from my lips when he grabs my hand and guides me toward his bed. “Lay down, my little queen. I’m about to feast like a king.”
Levi
Three months later…
“NO! Please NO!”
Hannah’s screams jolt me awake. I turn to her, her body flailing. “Hannah, wake up. It’s only a dream.” Just like the others, my voice goes unheard.
“NO!” she screams, her voice etched in such pain. I know exactly what her nightmare is about. It’s the same one she’s been having since the incident. Connor Miller is setting her on fire.
I grip her in my arms, her skin hot and clammy. She’s sweat through her shirt. “Hannah, wake up. Baby, you’re safe.” Her eyes start to flutter open, confusion masking her face. Her eyes become wide with terror, her nightmare following her into conscious. “It’s okay, babe, you’re safe. You’re in our bed. Feel the sheets. Take a deep breath. Smell the clean air. There’s no smoke.”
Hannah went too long claiming she was fine after the incident before her ni
ghtmares gave her away. She could no longer hide her secret fears that Connor would come for her, even though the fucker was locked up. Her nightmares were always the same. She was stuck in a house, and Connor was setting her on fire. Her therapist suggested cooling sheets. Sounded silly, but the specialized bamboo material would help cool her body while she slept, and in cases like this, it would take away some of her fear. She would wake up and grasp the sheets, feeling the coolness under her terror filled grip. At first, I thought it was bullshit, but they’ve helped.
The other savior was the air diffuser. In the beginning, it felt like forever to get her to snap out of it. She would scream and howl as if she was burning, and it fucking killed me. When we tried out the diffuser, the first nightmare after that, I got her to take deep breaths. This would allow her to smell the lavender from the diffuser and not the smoke stuck in her subconscious mind.
Overall, the nightmares became fewer and farther between. Until now. The trial. Today, Connor Miller takes the stand. I wish beyond anything I could make it all go away. Jim wouldn’t let her near the case anymore. His main priority was shielding his daughter from anymore distress caused by the Miller family. The trial was postponed. Seems Hannah has a friend in the judicial system on our side, and got the trial delayed until I was released from the hospital and well enough for the fight of my life. And when that day finally came, Matthews and Associates went full force. It didn’t take much before Benjamin Miller was arrested. Everything happened fast and intense. Not only were we ready to take down Miller Industries for what they did, we were going to take down his son for what he did to Hannah.
Putting Hannah’s case together was and will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done…next to watching her lay in the hospital bed. Connor was a sick fuck. He gave his statement that day to the police, a full confession of his intentions, the kidnapping of Hannah, the murder of Clara Hill. But once his father got wind, he lawyered him up and they fought tooth and nail, claiming his confession was under duress and ultimately getting it thrown out.
Chicks, Man Page 26