HIS BOUND BRIDE: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by Sophia Gray

  “Excuse me, sir, you can’t go through,” a voice called to him, but Vance dismissed it. Anything and anyone that was not Teresa was not important. The doctors went through some double doors, and Vance planned on going with them, but a hand on his arm made him stop.

  “Sorry, sir, that’s the operating theater. You can’t go in there,” the voice said gently.

  “Let me go! I have to be with her!” he yelled, wanting to punch the person who was trying to stop him from being with Teresa. He faced the nurse, who looked at him with concern.

  “She is being taken care of right now, sir, so the best thing you can do is wait here,” she said, gesturing to the waiting room. Vance looked at her as if he saw her for the first time, and suddenly he was aware of his surroundings.

  He was yelling at a nurse in the middle of the emergency room, and Teresa had already disappeared to where he could not follow. Nurses and other patients looked at him cautiously, as if they were afraid he was going to flip tables over and break chairs. The desperation and fear within him caused him to start trembling.

  “I-I’m sorry,” he muttered, lowering his head. He felt lost. He needed something to do, something he could take control of, or his world would crumble.

  “We need to ask you a few questions, sir. If you will follow me.” The nurse spoke in a sweet, low voice that had a soothing effect, and Vance followed her to a waiting room. “Please take a seat and wait a moment,” she said and disappeared briefly.

  Vance took that time to have a look at the place. He was in a waiting room in the emergency area of the hospital, and by the looks of the people that were there, this was the place where family members waited. There was a small display on the wall with instructions written on the side, and two doors: one that led to where he had just come from, and the other one was closed. Vance remembered that room – he had been in one just like that, minus the display, when his brother had the car accident. It was the waiting room for loved ones of those in surgery.

  The nurse came back in carrying a Styrofoam cup and a file. He looked at her nametag: Emma.

  “Take this,” Emma said, handing him the cup. He smelled black tea and sipped it sheepishly. “It will do you good.”

  Emma sat beside him in silence, giving him some time to process everything. Vance drank some more tea – it was bitter and hot, but the warmth seeped through his bones and calmed him enough to speak.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Sir, I need you to fill out this form,” she requested. Vance looked at her with dead eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll write everything down.”

  Vance nodded, and she started asking questions.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Vance Tate.”

  “And the patient’s?”

  “Teresa Love.”

  “What is your relationship with the patient?” Emma asked. Vance raised his eyes from the cup for a moment to stare at her. Was that question really necessary? He was wearing a tuxedo, and Teresa was wearing a damn wedding dress!

  “I’m her husband. We got married today, if that was not clear,” he spat bitterly. Emma looked at him with her eyes full of pity and Vance looked away.

  “I’m sorry. I have to ask.”

  The nurse then asked him about Teresa’s information: her birthday, place of birth, blood type, and whether she had any allergies. Vance was appalled by how little he knew about her. He could only answer a few questions.

  “How did the accident happen?” Emma asked when she was done filing the medical report and was about to start the accident report.

  “We were at our wedding reception when I had a disagreement with her father,” he summed up. “She got upset and drove off. She had been drinking a bit, but I couldn’t stop her. I followed the direction she went off in, and when I got to the car, she had crashed it into a tree…” His voice died off.

  It was all my fault, he inwardly repeated to himself. If she dies, it will be my fault.

  “It was my fault,” he concluded.

  Emma placed a hand on his arm and looked at him, trying to be reassuring.

  “Everything will be okay,” she said. After filling the forms and the report, she told Vance how to use the display to check on the surgery. She gave him a code and told him that when it was finished, a doctor would come out from the closed door to let him see Teresa.

  A few hours passed. Vance got up every now and then to check Teresa’s status, but the display always said: In process. After three hours waiting patiently in the room, Vance started to grow impatient and angry. He got up and started pacing around.

  After six hours, he was the only one left in the room, and he was going crazy with his thoughts as his only companions. The remains of the aftershock had faded, and all he was left with was anger and guilt. He was so furious at Teresa’s father that he was sure he could kill him if he saw him.

  But the feeling of guilt was stronger: guilt of what he had done to her, all the lies and the deceiving, and guilt that he had pushed her over the edge. He started stopping every nurse that came into the room to ask about her status, but no one knew a damn thing.

  “It’s been seven hours, and no one is telling me how she is!” he yelled, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

  “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know anything – but I will ask a doctor,” a nurse reassured him. Vance collapsed on one of the plastic chairs and rubbed his hand over his face, trying not to lose his temper again.

  “Thank you, thank you very much,” he whispered. The nurse left the room, and he was alone with his thoughts again. He went to the display and entered the code, which he had already memorized.

  33503-L.

  The display blinked, and his heart leaped in his chest: for the first time, instead of the same In process message that he had been seeing the last seven hours, the text on the screen had changed. Room 503. Surgery successful.

  “YES!” He ran to the door and almost knocked over the last nurse he had seen on his way out. “Sorry, but the screen says…” He trailed off. The nurse was smiling at him.

  “I know, I came to give you the good news. Your wife is stabilized and is in room 503. You can go see her, but she is not awake yet,” the nurse warned him. Vance nodded and tried to walk to the room as fast as possible.

  Room 503.

  He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath. He did not know whether he was ready to face Teresa. He was terrified of what her reaction would be when she woke up. His hand trembled as he reached to grab the handle.

  He opened it slowly: the room had dim lights, and the only sound that came through was the constant beeping of a machine and a mechanical, heavy breathing. The room was empty except for Teresa, who lay unconscious on the bed, surrounded by machines that monitored her status.

  He looked at her and tears filled his eyes: she was catheterized, and tubes were coming out of her mouth and nose, enabling her to breathe. Her eyes were closed, and she looked pale. His breath hitched when he saw her head, all bandaged, and realized that they’d had to shave her head to perform the surgery.

  He took a step towards her bed and fell to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, and remained there.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Vance

  Morning found him sitting in the chair next to Teresa’s bed. He had ended up falling asleep, and he wished everything that had happened had been a nightmare, but when he opened his eyes and saw Teresa lying in bed, just as she was the previous night, his heart crumbled.

  A nurse came in to change her bandages, and with her came a doctor. She was a middle-aged woman who looked at him with sympathy. You would not be so sympathetic if you knew, Vance thought grimly to himself.

  “Mr. Tate?” the doctor asked. Vance nodded. “Could you step outside with me for a minute? I’d like to talk you about your wife’s situation.” She motioned to the door, and he followed her. In the hall, the doctor introduced herself as Doctor Hunnigan, and she had been the one to operate on T
eresa the previous night.

  “Your wife was badly injured, and we had to perform brain surgery to stop the internal bleeding – but it was a successful intervention. Her left arm is broken, as are three ribs. Apart from that, she is in no real danger as long as we continue to monitor her,” Doctor Hunnigan informed him. Vance sighed and took a step back to rest against the wall. He was trembling again, and he realized he had not eaten anything since the wedding.

  “Then why is she asleep? When will she wake up?” he asked, and his voice sounded pitiful even to him. Doctor Hunnigan tried to reassure him with a gentle smile.

  “She has suffered severe trauma, and I can’t guarantee when exactly it will be – but she should be awake within the next couple of days. I recommend you go home, get changed and eat something before you pass out,” she said.

  Vance thanked her for her concern, and when the nurse left the room, he went back inside. He would not leave Teresa alone, but he did need to eat something. Teresa’s purse had been stored in a small wardrobe, and he took it. Her phone was inside, and it was flooded with messages and calls from her friends.

  Taking a deep breath, he called Anna – she was Teresa’s best friend, and she needed to know.

  “TERESA? Where the hell are you? What happened? Are you okay? We’re all worried sick!” Anna’s hysterical voice was loud on the other end of the line, and Vance winced.

  “Anna, it-it’s Vance. Teresa had an accident last night… We’re in the hospital,” he said hoarsely. Vance heard her gasp, and his stomach churned. “She’s going to be okay. She is asleep now, but the doctors say she is not in danger,” he went on quickly.

  “Where is she?” Anna asked, voice trembling.

  Vance gave her the address and room number and hung up the phone. He sat by the side of Teresa’s bed and waited. Anna did not take long to arrive: she was pale, and her eyes showed clear signs that she had been crying.

  She rushed to the other side of the bed and sat down, grabbing Teresa’s hand and swallowing a cry.

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered. It was like a dagger to Vance’s heart.

  “Don’t be. It was my fault,” he answered, looking everywhere but at her. “She heard me arguing with her father and left in a rush. I should have told her some things before the wedding but—”

  “Tell her when she wakes up, then,” Anna looked at him so intensely that he could not look away from her.

  “She will hate me forever.”

  Anna shrugged. “Maybe. But is she worth the risk?”

  “Completely.” Vance was sure of that: Teresa was worth every risk, every pain in the world. And he would not rest until he had made it up to her. He buried his head in his hands.

  “Look, whatever it is, she will forgive you eventually,” Anna assured him. Vance looked at her in doubt. “She loves you, Vance. I see it in her eyes; it’s so obvious. She will find it in her heart to forgive you.”

  Vance tried to avoid crying, but it took him a long moment to regain composure. When he finally did, he cracked a small smile at Anna and thanked her.

  “I’m sorry for not contacting you sooner. I was a mess yesterday, and I couldn’t think straight,” Vance said. “What happened at the reception?”

  Anna waved it off. “The girls and I were able to figure out everything with the restaurant and send everyone off. We packed everything up – the leftovers and gifts and other stuff are all at my place though. You can pick them up when you get a chance.”

  “Thanks so much, Anna.” Vance felt a rush of gratitude for Teresa’s best friend. He hesitated. “Now that you’re here, do you mind if I go get changed really quick and come back?” He pointed at his bloodied, dirty tuxedo. “I’ll bring something to eat for both of us.”

  “Of course,” Anna said with a smile. “I’ll watch her and let you know if anything happens.”

  In the cab ride home, Vance realized his body ached all over. The first thing he did when he got home was take a hot shower, letting the steaming water wash away the grime and tears of yesterday.

  After that, he filled a backpack with a few necessities he may need during his stay at the hospital: he would not leave Teresa’s side again. He grabbed some prepackaged sandwiches and salads he had in the fridge and headed off to the garage, where he hopped on his bike.

  Vance stopped by Teresa’s apartment before heading to the hospital and grabbed a few things she would need when she woke up. He stayed for a moment by the doorstep, looking at the place: Teresa had left in a hurry for the wedding, and it was a mess.

  Her clothes were scattered around, and he saw one of the books he had given her on their first date opened on the coffee table. He grabbed it and smiled when he saw the folded corners of a page; she had obviously been reading it. He put it in the bag – something for her to do as she recovered. That is, if she did not hate the sight of it just because it had been his present.

  An hour after he had left, he was parking his bike in the hospital’s parking lot and heading back to the room. The door was ajar, and Vance heard voices coming from the room.

  “He’ll be here soon.” Anna’s cold voice carried through the door. Vance’s blood froze when he heard the next voice.

  “I’ll be gone by then.”

  The voice sounded tired and sad, but Vance recognized that voice anywhere.

  Jimmy Love had found Teresa again.

  Vance pushed the door open and entered in large strides, glaring at Jimmy. He did not raise his voice, but his tone did not leave room for argument.

  “Get. Out. Now,” he ordered in a cold whisper. Jimmy looked at him from Teresa’s side and got to his feet. Vance had expected Jimmy to refuse, to put up a fight or even to make a scene in front of Anna, but he just left as he was told. Vance left his bag in the room and followed him, closing the door behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” He growled angrily. All the hatred he felt for the man was apparent in his voice. He looked him straight in the eye. The old man looked aged and pale, with dark circles under his eyes. His clothes were disheveled, and his hair was a mess. He clearly looked worse for wear, but Vance did not care. Teresa’s accident had been as much Jimmy’s fault as it was his.

  “I came to see me daughter, Vance,” Jimmy told him. He did not look up to face Vance.

  “She does not want you near her, and neither do I. You almost got her killed trying to sabotage me! You knew she was listening behind the door!” he accused Jimmy, and the old man nodded in agreement.

  “She would’ve found out eventually, Tate, and you know it. It’s a shame this happened. You know I never wanted this to happen,” Jimmy said, eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath. “But I shouldn’t have done it. I know that. But I couldn’t lose her, not ter you. I couldn’t have you take her away. She’s me only daughter. The only thing I have left, Tate.”

  Had Vance not known better, he would have bought the whole sappy, pitiful charade, but he did not fall for it. Jimmy Love was a schemer, through and through.

  “You lost her when you neglected her, tried to control her, and impose a marriage that she did not want,” Vance threw at him.

  Jimmy looked up and locked eyes with Vance; the young man saw the desperation in his old boss.

  “Why, Jimmy? You never cared about her when you had her. All you care about is your damn gang. Why do you keep doing this to her?” Vance asked.

  His boss looked uncomfortable and angry. Jimmy took a deep breath and finally revealed the truth.

  “I am dying, Tate,” he muttered. Vance took a step back, surprised. What? “I have lung cancer. I’ve been having chemotherapy, but it has not worked. The cancer was discovered too late. I’m going to die.”

  Silence fell over both men and Vance did not know what to say. He could not say he was sorry: Jimmy Love had proven to be the worst person he had ever met, and he could not say that he truly felt sorry for him.

  “How long do you have?” he asked. Jimmy was playing with a lighter in his hands, and V
ance found it ironic that he never quit smoking despite his illness.

  “The doctors say at most six months. I doubt I’ll ever see another summer… but I need an heir to the club. I wanted Teresa to be that heir, Tate. I can’t die knowing that the club – my club – will be at the hands of some unworthy, greedy biker. I have worked too hard for it to go to that!” he spat.

  Vance pressed his fists to his sides. Of course, his boss was worried about the club. He did not want to spend his last days with his daughter – he had never cared for her and was not about to start now. He only cared about his club; it was his sole interest.

  “Well, then you should tell her this when she wakes up,” Vance concluded. He did not want to talk to him any longer. “But I don’t want you in the room until then. You can wait in the hall for as long as you want though,” he added, then walked back into Teresa’s room and closed the door behind him.