by Robin Leaf
“Yes, if you had any more problems with your cyst. Not because I wanted to see you in any romantic capacity.” I stand, grunting through the pain in my backside, pretty sure my hip is severely bruised, if not fractured. The pain kind of kills my fiery rage, but I don’t want him to see me wince. “You had to know that, D, otherwise, you would have ditched the secrecy and come at me head on.”
His face goes blank. “I thought I was being mysterious and romantic.”
“News flash, dumbass, nothing about stalking a woman is romantic.”
“It wasn’t stalking…” he shakes his head, searching the ground. Then he screws up some courage and looks me in the eye, pointing at me. “You were flirting at first.”
He’s got me there.
“Yeah, because I thought you were – someone else.” Shit, I almost said his name. I soften my tone. “When it became obvious you weren’t who I thought you were, I stopped responding.”
He steps closer, raising his voice. “Yeah, you just stopped. You didn’t say anything to me, so I thought you got in trouble at work for responding to me.”
I throw my working hand out to the side, raising my voice. “So you just kept emailing me?”
“I didn’t have any other way to contact you.” He lowers his voice, sounding defeated. “I knew you were getting them, so I kept hoping you would try to respond some other way.”
My hand goes to my hip. “I kept blocking you.”
“I hoped it was your HR doing it.” He shrugs one shoulder. “You never told me to back off.”
Damn, note to self. Be more of a bitch to stalkers and tell them to fuck off.
“Diesel, you were following me… taking pictures of me. You knew where I was staying. How could you not know that’s stalker behavior?”
“No, I didn’t follow you. I have a friend who works at the hotel. She told me you were staying there.”
Oh, Jesus. It couldn’t be. I rub my eyes, because if it’s true, it’ll just be too much.
“Her name doesn’t happen to be Brianna, does it?”
He nods. “Yeah. She’s one of my roommates.”
Well, there’s my karma for being an unfair bitch to her. Jesus, the one time I’m ever rude to someone and it bites me royally in the ass. Lesson learned.
He continues. “Ember’s not exactly a common name. She told me you were rude to her and complained about her. And, thanks to her, I got your correct last name. Sparks was on your card, and you never told me you changed it. I couldn’t find any listings for Ember Sparks anywhere.”
Damn. Thank God for small favors.
“You took pictures of me at the hospital.”
He shrugs. “I was passing by and saw you leaving.”
“And how did you know where I lived?”
He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, I guess I might have followed you home once, but it was for a very good cause.”
I place my hand on my hip, which is hella painful. Shit, I probably am bruised from head to toe. “To break into my apartment and steal my Beast.”
“For the last time, I didn’t steal anything from you.”
“Just like you didn’t kidnap me?”
“I didn’t…” he stops, closing his mouth and swallowing. “Fuck.” He holds out his hand to me, motioning desperately. “C’mon, I’ll take you back.”
“I really don’t want you touching me, Diesel.”
He waves his hand around. “You wanna ride back here again?”
I roll my eyes. “No.” I take a step toward the open door in the back of the truck. “You are, however, going to have to help me down, but be careful, please. I might have fractures.”
I hobble toward the back of the truck, unsure about how he’ll help me down. I really, really, don’t want his hands anywhere on me, especially since every part of me feels like it needs a severe ice down.
“Just so you know, I’m not proud of being a stripper. I know it’d let my mom down if she was alive.” He holds up his arms, ready to lift me down. “I’m in college, pre-law. It’s why I’m stripping – to pay for school. I didn’t get a scholarship, and there, I make damn good money.”
Shit. The boy lost his mom, which might explain why he’s so taken by someone concerned about his health and well-being. Yeah, I’ll pretend to not be offended that his fixation on me is strictly because of his mommy issues. But I don’t have the heart to tell him he just fucked up his entire future, but I also don’t think we need a severely delusional lawyer running around in the world. The possibilities could be disastrous.
When I step gingerly to the edge of the truck, I pause, finally accepting his help to lift me to solid ground. I hate him touching me, so I step away quickly. If it weren’t for my throbbing, bruised, possibly broken ass and ribs, I’d kiss the ground.
He leads me to the side of the truck and opens the passenger door to the cab. Honestly, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get back in that truck. I’m not really afraid of him per se, but he is not exactly stable. I stop, hearing sirens fill the distance, and I can only flip my childhood fear around on its ass and hope they’re coming for me. But this is L.A., and since I have no idea where he brought me, some alleyway by the looks of it, we could be in a bad part of town; there’s no telling where these sirens are going.
“C’mon, Ember. I need to get you back,” Diesel says impatiently.
Damn. I need to think fast. Something is telling me to stay put.
“Climbing up in that truck is gonna be a problem.”
“I’ll lift you,” he rushes out, seemingly nervous all of the sudden.
“No,” I shake my head, happy that the sirens are louder. Maybe I can at least flag down an officer. “I’ll just stay here behind this Best Buy, next to the smelly dumpster, and you can go back so the others can continue loading the truck.” I give a little finger wave and step back. “Just tell them where I am.”
He steps toward me, and I step back, so he lunges at me, trying to grab me. I slap at his hands, performing some not-too-pleasant jerky movements so he can’t get a good grip on me.
“Do not. Fucking. Touch. Me. Again,” I grunt each word, throwing my good elbow his direction each time. It doesn’t connect, but he finally gets the message, huffing and throwing his hands to the side.
He flies backward, pinned against the truck by a blur of movement. I step forward because, for a fleeting moment, I want to help the boy I was formerly fighting. That is until I realize whoever has him pinned is actually there to save me.
Arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into a familiar chest with a familiar scent.
“Douglass?” I ask, “don’t let him hurt the kid.”
He pulls back and looks at my face. I step back, stumbling as the pain shoots through me.
“You’re hurt,” he says, noticing my wince.
I watch his face transform from concern to murderous in less than a second.
“Did he… force himself…?” he growls, trailing off, stepping toward whoever has Diesel pinned to the truck.
I grab his arm, thankfully stopping his progress. I don’t need him killing anyone on my behalf.
“No, he didn’t. Just your standard issue kidnapping with me in the back of a truck.” His expression softens when he looks at me, so I explain, “I was thrown around in the drive and fell on my ass.”
He runs his thumb under my eye. “Did he hit you?”
Right as he points it out, I feel the dull throb from my cheek. “No, I fell into the boxes in the back a few times.” I lean into his hand. “A smart person would have sat down in the moving truck, but I didn’t think he knew I was back there.”
His eyebrows raise. “He didn’t know?”
I nod, looking down. “Yeah, he knew.” I grab his hand. “He’s my stalker.”
He grinds his jaw. “We kind of figured that out.”
The next few minutes are a blur of police and people swirling around us. They question Diesel, me, Douglass, and Noah, who is apparently
the guy who took him down.
“Ma’am, do you need an ambulance?” one of the officers asks.
“No,” Doug answers for me. “I’ll take her in.”
“I don’t need the hospital right this second, Dugger,” I whine. “I’m just banged up.”
He kisses my forehead, which seems to be the only spot on me not throbbing at the moment. “Your shoulder is bad, so you are going, no arguments.”
“So he is your boyfriend,” Diesel says over his shoulder as the police officers walk his handcuffed ass past us.
“Are you?” I ask quietly to Dugger, looking up at him hopefully.
His expression is tight, but there’s a smile that doesn’t look right. I’m not feeling too good about that.
Before I can ask, Beck is jogging toward us.
“I’m sorry, Dugger, but she conned me into following you guys.” He bends at the waist, breathing heavily. “She got out of the car before I could stop her.”
“You stupid son of a bitch,” the determined voice of Mabel yells shakily.
Douglass moves past me, hurrying around the corner of the truck, so I follow, as quickly as I can. I’m in pain, yes, but I ignore it to come to the rescue of my friend.
Diesel is on the ground in the fetal position, gasping. Mabel is being corralled by two police officers, and putting up a pretty good tussle for her age and health.
“Mabel, stop fighting them.”
She stops struggling at Doug’s command, so the officers each take one arm.
“What did you do?” Douglass asks.
“I kicked the fucker in the nuts, like I told you I would.” She smiles proudly. “And now, I’ll probably be arrested, so tell Ember to mark that off my list.” The officers lead her away, so she yells over her shoulder, “Don’t worry about me, you take care of her.”
Noah chuckles. “I’ll take care of Ember if you want to handle Mabel.”
“I’m fine,” I argue.
“No you’re not,” both men say in almost unison.
Rolling my eyes, I address Doug. “Go with Mabel. I’ll call my uncle.”
“I’m already here,” Uncle Danny says, assessing me. “We need to get you to the hospital, Dink. Your parents are already on their way. God forbid they beat you there.”
~ ~ ~
“How do you feel, Honey?” Mom asks, running her fingers across my eyebrows, something she’s done since I was a little girl when I was either sick or injured. It’s always relaxed me.
I hurt, all over. But I can’t say that to her. She’ll hover and mother me to death. I don’t need that right now.
“Let me just say that having my shoulder popped back into place was not particularly pleasant, but I don’t feel as bad as I could, I guess.”
“What can I do for you or get you? I hate seeing you in pain. Oh, how long does it take to read flippin’ x-rays? You went up there ages ago, and you’d think they would rush the results for one of their own. Are you sure there’s no way you could be pregnant? I don’t want a potential grandchild coming out with three heads because you got the x-ray without taking a pregnancy test. I know Dugger told me you two didn’t have sex, but I suspect the man was lying to me. Now, when you do have kids with the man, make sure they have his eyes. Those eyes are what attracted you, aren’t they?”
As she keeps nervously prattling on and on, I realize I’m more like my mom than I wish to admit. This rambling, run-on sentence thing must be hereditary.
“Mom,” I say sharply to get her attention, “did you bring any of your gummies? You need to chill the fuck out.”
“Ember Nicole, do not cuss at your mother.”
“Just a reminder: you said shit earlier. Looks like I learned it from you.”
She waves me off. “Things said while I’m on my medicine can’t be used against me. Have they given you anything for your pain?”
“They brought them in, but I wasn’t sure about taking them, so I refused.”
“Now why would you go and do that?” She squeezes my hand. “I bet you’re going to be in a world of hurt tonight without them. Make sure you get some pain killers to go.”
“Ember,” Dr. Sellers says tentatively, thankfully interrupting my mom. “Your x-rays show no breaks, so you just have some pretty nasty contusions, and your shoulder will be pretty sore for a few days.” He addresses my mom. “But don’t worry. I will give her a prescription for the pain before she leaves, Mrs. Zills.” He turns to me and smiles, the first one he’s given me since I turned him down. “You know if you wanted to take up boxing, you took it a little too literally maybe?”
I laugh, quickly remembering why that’s a horrible idea. I hiss through it, “Asshole.”
He smiles. “Well, with all your bruising, you’re lucky you didn’t break a few ribs or a limb. You’ll probably feel like you actually went ten rounds with Pacquiao come tomorrow, if you don’t already.” He opens the computer in the room, scans his ID, and types for a few seconds. “I do suggest taking some pain meds before you go home. It’ll minimize the hell you’ll have on the ride home.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine, order some for me.”
He nods, and clicks a few more buttons on the screen.
“Tiffany will be back in a few to give you the meds and issue your discharge and instructions.” He grabs my hand, looking hella sincere. “Please be a better patient than most medical people and follow the instructions explicitly.” He turns to walk out of the room. “I’ve already alerted upstairs that I’m recommending at least a week off. You can’t come back to work without a doctor’s okay, so next Saturday, you will come back for a follow up.”
“I’ll be fine by then.”
“Maybe, but that hip took a pretty substantial blow. And with that dislocated shoulder, it’ll probably take a few weeks for it to be well enough for you to work.” He pats my knee. “Nothing strenuous,” he says, right as Noah walks in. Ryan looks at Noah pointedly, and then looks at me. “And you’ll want to stay away from sex for at least a few days. It’ll probably hurt like hell anyway.” He smiles evilly at Noah before turning toward the door.
“Well there goes my plan to screw the Rams entire offensive line,” I joke.
Ryan chuckles before turning the corner.
I turn to Noah, who holds up my purse and cell phone, placing it on the table next to me. I half expect Douglass to be right behind him, but my hope is blown by the look on Noah’s face.
After a pause, he speaks.
“Diesel has been charged with kidnapping, assault, and breaking and entering since his prints matched the ones collected at your place. Your uncle made sure that he will spend the night in jail so that he can secure the paperwork for a restraining order against him. A bond hearing is scheduled for in the morning.”
“I think he got the message this time. And he never assaulted me, unless you count the two uninvited hugs, which isn’t the type of assaulting you mean. All these bruises are because I’m a panicky dumbass who tried to truck surf unsuccessfully.” I lower my voice. “Noah, Diesel needs psychological help. He’s got all kinds of delusional mommy issues.”
He nods. “I’ll talk to your uncle about the possibility of a psych eval.” Looking down at his hands, he pauses. “Ember, about Dugger –”
“Oh, please don’t tell me there’s a problem with Mabel,” I plead.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“No, she’s actually already at her new place. They were just about to process her at the police station when the charges were dropped.” He shakes his head. “She was actually disappointed that she didn’t get a mug shot or strip searched.”
I would expect no less from Mabel.
“So is that were Douglass is? Helping her get settled?”
He smiles sadly, shaking his head.
“He left, didn’t he?” I say, closing my eyes.
“That mother fucker,” Mom screeches, stomping her foot. “Well, Ember. With all that happened today, he probably doesn�
�t think he’s worthy of you.” She stands, balling her fists at her sides. “So you just go find him and drag his ass back here and tough love the shit out of him.”
Twenty Eight
Dugger
“Dugger? What the hell?”
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t call first, Sugar Bug. I didn’t want to turn my phone on. Emily told me that she and your brother are staying here.”
I look into the brown eyes of the girl I once wanted to be mine and feel nothing but brotherly affection toward her. There’s no harbored resentment. No wondering what could have been. It seems I’m completely cured of my former affliction.
Which now that I think about it, brotherly affection is all I’ve really felt toward her, but stupid me mistook it for real love. I mean it is real, but not the right kind of love. It wasn’t anywhere close to what I feel for… shit.
Before I can slap myself, Kaelyn hugs me, and I like that it’s no longer awkward. It feels like it used to, minus my silent longing. She pulls me into the house, closing the door behind me and wrapping her hands around my arm to guide me toward the living room.
“It’s just us girls. Brody’s coming home very late tonight, and Keaton went to play poker at Nathaniel’s house.”
We enter the room, and on the couch are the twins, Etta and Emily, with an open game of some sort of complicated trivia thing on the table in front of them.
“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I run my hand through my hair. “I should have called.”
“Don’t be silly, Sunshine.” Emily gets up and pulls me to the couch. “Did you bring Ember here to escape her stalker? I would have suggested that if Tater had told me before we left about the message she got Friday night.” She looks behind me. “Where is she?”
Fuck. Now I gotta own up.
“She’s back in L.A.” I swallow. “Recovering.”
Emily giggles. “Damn, did you two finally have sex?”
Etta busts out laughing. “You crippled the poor girl?”
“Jeez, no.”
“Wait… Who is Ember?” Kaelyn asks.
“Ember is Dugger’s girl,” Emily offers before I can. “He was keeping her safe from a stalker, and he ended up falling for her.”