Crown and Anchor Series: Book 1-4
Page 28
“No offence, but your hospital food is shit.” Handing her the money, I move off toward the stairs.
I hear her as I’m walking away. “Oh, we know.”
WYATT
I’m still piecing it together so that it’s concise and coherent before I explain it all to my family. No, I didn’t come to grips with the losses while I had weeks in my own head, but I had time to grieve. I feel more at peace. It was cleansing, to say the least.
The day was perfect. No, that’s not right. It was beyond perfect. It was spectacular and wickedly unexpected. It felt like a dream with cherubs, pixies, dragons and crazy apple wielding wicked witches. We were happy. It was the first time in my life that I could say that the despair wasn’t hanging around us, that the fog had lifted.
It’s heartbreaking. Our family unit has gone from five to three in less than a year. None of that is even close to being the hardest part to handle. We’ll still have to go over the will, and the company changes that will happen now whether I like it or not. Jamieson, Doll, and I will have to find a way to coexist in this new world.
While I was out of it, Whiskey didn’t say much. Mainly, it was him just sitting in in the corner like a statue, reading his phone and texting away. Fuck, he looks just like Dad when he smiles. And Doll, I don’t blame her for running fast. So now that Whiskey went out for burgers, I’m left in the silence of this barren room. Pressing the button for the nurse, she’s here within minutes.
“Is everything all right Mr. Crown?”
“I’m totally fine. I just wondered if you could get me a computer, or a tablet so I can look up a few things.”
“Of course. You had me worried. I’ll see if someone has one you can borrow for a bit.”
“Great. Thanks.” I’m thinking of all that I want to find out about. How’s the team doing? Who’s in the lead? Is there info on our crash?
Coming back in, Sali holds a tablet in her hands with a massive smile. “The password for the Wi-Fi is already in, so you should be able to look up what you need.” “Care for more Jell-O?”
I take the tablet in my right hand. “The green, please.”
WYATT
“Dinner service.” Swinging a Patties greasy paper bag in the air that smells heavenly, Dr. Callie enters my room about an hour later. “Your brother had to pop out. He asked Sali to get this to you, but she’s with another patient.” I open the bag and pull out the dangerous, yet delectable sweet potato curly fries, resting perfectly in a wax sack. The juicy burger smothered in chipotle mayo, with lettuce, a pickle spear skewered on top, and crumbled blue cheese pouring out the edges, is exactly what I needed. I feel my mouth water. Awesome.
“As your doctor, I’d suggest you not eat this at all. I feel it would demean the work we’re doing to fix you.” She smiles wide, steals one of the fries, then pushes the table over my bed, placing it all within reach.
“Pull up a seat, doctor. I’d like a bit of info if you wouldn’t mind.” She nods, grabs the metal rolling stool and sits beside me.
Yanking out the long, stringy, cardiac inducing goodness, I’m hungry as hell and happy to fill the void.
“How is she?” Dr. Callie forces a fake smile, popping a fry in her mouth.
“Sad, but she’s doing good.” Pulling out another fry, she eats it, resting back in the chair.
“Would she want to see me?” Grabbing up the burger in my opposite hand, pieces drip down. Taking a bite, I love the feel of it in my mouth. The juices, and the tangy sweet sauce couldn’t taste any better.
“Mr. Crown, I gotta tell ya, she’s been asking me about you every day. Well, until I shut her down. She wants to know how you are. She’s wanted to know anything— something.”
“Would you like me to arrange it. To see her, that is?” To see her. My skin itches and my heart pulls at the tethers holding it in place. It’s not a want, it’s a need.
“Yes, please.”
“She’s well enough. I think she’d be more than happy to make the trip here to see you, but I’d like you to get a bit more sleep first. How about tomorrow morning? We’ll have her down here later in the morning?” Stealing another fry, she stands. “How about you get your fill and sleep a few hours. Tomorrow will come faster than you think.”
Biting the burger, I lick my fingers free of sauce. Then, wiping my hand and the corners of my mouth, I mumble my thanks.
CIRCE
Yesterday was just another day at the park. Gruelling physio regime, Mom visiting, Crane hitting on her mercilessly, eating all the crap food shoved at me, sucking back my pills, and sleeping. Yep. Fun, I tell ya.
Dr. Callie popped in a short while ago with news. Tomorrow morning, I’m going on a field trip. One of the Crown’s wants to see me. Yes, I’m glad for the distraction, but I’m also scared. And glad. So glad. No, I’m ecstatic.
She told me to be ready at nine and not to look like I’ve have been for the past few weeks. She muttered something about how my appearance could earn me a recurring role as a zombie on The Walking Dead. Bitch. Yes, she’s sweet, but honestly, she can pull a high grade ‘dick move’ better than most. So, with the assistance of my mom this morning, I showered, dressed nicer—no house coat or green unbuttoned hospital shift—combed out my hair and added a touch of makeup. It made me feel better, and closer to taking on the world than I have in weeks.
Looking at the clock, it’s almost nine. Now, I’m scared.
“Mind if I help?” my mother asks.
“Thanks.” Sitting in the wheelchair, waiting near the door for the doctor to return, my mother’s smile is infectious. She knows I’m excited to find out the truth.
“You ready for today, Circe?”
Taking a deep breath, it catches in my chest, but it’s better than it’s been. The training has helped, and the opportunity to see Wyatt or Marca is pushing me forward gleefully. “More than I could ever imagine. I’m scared, hopeful, expectant, afraid, and seemingly happy.”
“Do you want me there? I mean, I can just drop you at the door if you wish.”
“Yes. Please, yes,” I giggle. “Of course I want you there. If it’s Wyatt, I want you to meet him. If it’s Marca, then I need you there to help me deal.”
Accepting my answer, she nods, smiles, and pushes the door open. Passing into the hall to await Dr. Callie, Sali meets us instead. “Ladies, good morning. This will be short. Both of you need rest.”
“I get it. I’ll be good, cross my fingers.”
“It’s supposed to be cross my heart. Crossing your fingers means you were promising to be bad,” Sali quips off, laughing.
“Whatever works.”
“All right, all right. Time to go,” Dr. Callie joins us, a wide smile on her face.
Flanking my mother, the doctor and Sali lead us across the hall, then down the next hall across from the nurse’s station. Stopping at the door directly in front of it, I realize this is where we saw China that day. We’ve been that close to each other? It makes sense they’d want to keep us close, but it was so close. I wish I’d known.
“Remember what I said, this will be short,” Dr. Callie reiterates before entering the room.
“I’ll be careful. Nothing too taxing. Got it.”
Waiting by the door, the doctor and Sali enter first. Time passes slowly. It’s like a movie in slow mo. I’m both anticipating and dreading it at the same time.
“We ready?”
Shaking my head, my mom pushes the cart through the doorway. Entering, I feel the tension of this meeting like a tangible enemy. The pressure in my chest increases, my heart beats out like a drum, and I’m sweating. I’m so afraid, it’s not funny.
The room itself is sparse. I half-expected to find baskets of well-wishes and flowers abounding. There’s nothing. Looking around the room, the curtain is drawn, and the window shade is drawn partway, holding the sunshine at bay. The machines are switched off, pushed to the side, away from whoever’s in the bed. The doctor peeks her head in, speaks to the person, th
en slowly draws the curtain back. It’s like a reveal on the dating game.
“Hello, Siren.”
I’m speechless, stunned to silence. Testing every emotion, my body tightens. Everything I’ve wanted to know for weeks has come to fruition. I’m so afraid that it’s an apparition, a ghost.
“Are you going to speak, love?”
Tears start down my face. I’m so happy, yet saddened. “Wyatt?” My voice cracks, failing me.
“Remember what I said you two. Gentle, easy, and short. Both of you back to your respected corners quick,” Dr. Callie says.
Without an answer from either of us, my mother answers for me. “They’ll be good.”
“I’m going to leave you together for a bit, but if you need us, please hit the button. Either of you feel bad, you tell us right away,” Sali states as she and the doctor leave. Both of them are smiling like Cheshire cats as they exit, while Wyatt, my mother, and myself are left alone.
Silence reigns supreme in the room as we both sit there, staring at each other.
“So, um, this is kind of awkward,” my mother says, interrupting the pregnant air. “I’m Natalie, by the way.”
Watching as Wyatt gives that beaming smile I love—that I missed—he reaches out his hand to take hers. It’s weak and shaky, something I’ve never seen. Wyatt isn’t weak or sapless. Wyatt is strong, resilient, powerful, and infallible.
“I’m Casper Crown. Or, to my Siren, I’m Wyatt. It’s nice to meet you, Natalie.” Even though he’s talking to my mother, his full attention is still on me. Once the curtain was pulled back, we were hooked. Just like always, just the same. Nothing has changed.
He’s everyone’s Casper, and my Wyatt. The other half of me.
“I hear that you’ve been caring for my Siren. Thank you.” His gaze is electric. I feel alight instantly, just like I always do.
I believe I always will.
“I’m not sure how much they told you, Casper, but I’m Natalie Matcheson. Circe is my daughter.” Looking out the corner of my eye at my mother, she’s anxious and panicked. Wyatt is calm and serene.
Even though I’m not secured to the chair, or held down, I’m afraid to move forward. None of it feels real yet.
“It’s really you.”
Wyatt understands. He understands my fear. “Yes, love, I’m here.” His face changes from gleeful to sorrowful in the blink of an eye.
I lift up, just slightly, so that I can reach my hand out. I have to touch him and feel that he’s tangible, real. But, my mother left my chair at the end of the bed where we first came in. It’s not nearly close enough.
“Hold up there, young lady,” my mother pipes up. Rushing around to my side of the bed, she pushes my chair closer to where Wyatt sits regally. I can finally touch him. My knees are tucked under the framework, and my chest is just inches away from the cushion, but it’s close enough for now.
My heart is still. I don’t feel it beat. I don’t feel my breath as it rises and falls either. The pressure of being so close and not close enough is elusive. I want to be within his arms, held and secure. Bringing me closer, he smiles that glorious Crown smile that only Wyatt can. Only the happy and contented Wyatt can.
Checking him out, I see the damage that still riddles his body. His far hand is lying across the bed, wrapped and bandaged, and the close one, the one I want to have touch me, is tucked under the blanket. I’m still casted on the right at the wrist, but I need his touch so bad, I’ll accept a twinge of pain. Pulling up my casted arm slowly, so as not to hit the bed, I lay it across his.
Wyatt pulls back the blanket with a wicked smirk. “It seems we have a matching set.”
“Wyatt, I—” There’s no way to stop the flow of tears as they stream down my face. Joy or sorrow, happiness or pain, I’m not sure which, but they’re a dike I can’t staunch.
“I missed you,” Wyatt says. “I’m sorry you were kept away.” Turning slightly on the bed, he leans toward me. Sadness pulls across his features as he explains further. “It was so dark. Being in my head was in a place I couldn’t be with you, and it hurt. I could just imagine it for you.”
“I—I was so alone.” Choking out the words, my throat is tight, scratchy, and my heart constricts.
“You know, you kept me sane, Siren. You called to me.”
“Will you tell me about it, please.”
Closing his eyes, he leans back on the stacked pillows and breathes deeply. “Soon, Siren. Soon.”
“I think you two have had enough for today,” I hear my mother say. I’d forgotten we weren’t alone.
Wyatt nods, then smiles and asks, “Will you stay while as I fall asleep?”
You’d think my heart just shattered. I know my soul fell to pieces as I fell more and more in love with him right then and there.
“I don’t want to leave you at all. I’ve waited weeks to see you, and I can’t think of leaving you. So yes.” As the tears fall, I lay my head on the bed by his body, soaking up his warmth. I can’t think of anything. I can’t excuse myself from this, and I won’t be moved until I have to. Even then, I’ll be kicking and screaming. If I was in a body cast, I would find a way to be with him, touching him in some way.
Hoping that we’ve passed through the worst of it, that we can start to repair our bodies, minds, and souls, I relish the time I have with him.
It could have been minutes, hours, or the passing of a lifetime, but I was happy. I was at peace all within the confines of Wyatt’s quiet room.
Listening to his strong heartbeat, I hear his breathing steadily slow as he falls asleep beside me.
This is where I belong.
CHINA
“Are you fucking kidding me! This is bullshit.” I know it’s unladylike, and my father would be rolling over in his grave for my conduct. But he’s not here, so I don’t give a shit.
We left my ride sitting on the curb, unprotected, available for every asshole to peel apart. I’m still pissed at that. How can the police officer have that much disrespect for fine machinery?
“Oh, honey. That one out there, he isn’t one who falls for a pretty face who cusses at him. You need sugar, sugar.” My roommate and cell aficionado has told me yet again how screaming at the police will get me nowhere.
Bullshit.
You just need the right equipment and flair, I believe. Correct me if I’m wrong, but a lady should wear something more modest. My cellmate’s equipment is uncouth, with her—and I use her loosely—fishnets that are ripped in multiple areas, purple peeling and scuffed heels, and a skirt that should be a tube top. The nonexistent shirt, which is see-through, is a blush pink over a black lace bra. It’s not necessarily going to gain her points toward me, let alone police officers. She explained herself as a purveyor of dreams, a professional supplier of happiness. She then said she was arrested for just looking stunning. It was a ‘travesty’ of justice, as she put it.
Fearing disease, I won’t sit on any of the surfaces in the room. Most definitely, I won’t take any advice from the defunct purveyor of dreams either. My lovely cellmate, Jucinda, even with her lack of clothing, is a very, very large woman. I’m tall, but she puts me to shame. With her six foot plus frame, linebacker shoulders, thin hips and twelve o’clock shadow that’s just starting to peek out from under her meticulously caked on makeup, she’s something. I’m progressive, and I can handle her, but I’d rather not cozy up to her today, not with the mood I’m in. I’m pissy enough to spew something hurtful, and that would not do me justice.
My noble knight in shining armor and I arrived here a little over an hour ago. He had me processed, fingerprinted, photographed, strip searched by a not-so-lovely lady officer, and then plopped me unceremoniously in this filthy cell. Using my final and only call to Whiskey, leaving him a scathing message that will hopefully reach its destination, I awaited my ride. He needs to do everything he can to get my ass out of here, and fast. My charges are unpaid parking tickets, a summons to appear on excessive speeding (of which I’m
very proud of). Ninety-two in a sixty, thank you very much. Then, another few racing charges, and a pussy taillight out with outdated insurance. If I keep up the noise, the arresting officer might come back so I can give him a bigger piece of my mind.
Jackass.
On the ride over, I laid into him about the whole scenario. The bullshit tickets, the unnecessary arrest, and of course the bracelets that were lovely, but not necessary. There’s no way I was going to run off, and I absolutely hated sitting on my hands. He knew who I was, and I think it kind of scared him. He had to arrest me.
He spoke to someone a few times on his cell about having me in custody, and whoever it was, they were adamant about me being brought in, Judge’s orders. Fuck me if I’m wrong, but he seemed to be warring with it personally. It seems our predicament was more about him. Either way, it meant shit. Still, the asshole brought me in for processing, put me in this newly appointed nine-by-nine space, and left me to my own devices.
As I wear a hole in the floor, pacing, the heavy metal door down the hall swings open. Scraping noisily across the floor, heavy footfalls smack on the cement as two distinct pairs of shoes clatter toward us.
“Time to go, princess.” The first to enter is the evil jailer, Tiana. She joyously conducted my strip search. The second person stops a few feet away, and without looking, I know it’s Whiskey.
Unlocking the door, Tiana motions for me to exit, then relocks the door behind me. I’d almost rather she put me back in after I get a look of my big brother’s expression. I like the company of big Jucinda better.
“China,” Whiskey barks.
“Jamieson. Nice of you to come.” I’m more pissed at him than he could ever be of me, but I doubt it will get me far.
“Not another word, China May Crown. You hear me?” Whiskey growls. Nodding, checking my attitude, quietly I fall in step behind him and Tiana.
“Time to go.” As Tiana motions, we follow, waving goodbye to Jucinda. Her jaw drops when she takes in the sight of Whiskey. Like all women do, she then lounges back on her bench and smiles sweetly.