Love on the Line (Love Beyond Danger Book 3)

by Diane Holiday

  “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  “Get some shut-eye, baboon butt.” John tapped the bedrail again, and left.

  A nurse came in and checked Wyatt’s IV. “Time for your pain meds.”

  “I’d rather not take them.” He gritted his teeth, shifting again. Damn hospital gown. He couldn’t wait to be in normal clothes and back at his place.

  “I understand, Mr. Pearson, but the doctor’s orders are—”

  “It’s okay.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Not your fault.”

  Relief eased her face, and she tipped the pill into his hand and gave him a cup of water.

  He swallowed the med and sank back into the bed, cringing.

  The nurse bustled out, passing Anne, who appeared in the doorway. His breath stalled in his lungs. She had a bandaged head, bruised face, and dark circles under her eyes. “Holy shit, Anne.” His voice cracked, right along with his heart. “You said you were okay.”

  “Wyatt.” She rushed to his side. Grabbing his hand, her gaze raked over him. “I was so scared that you...that I might not see you…that—”

  “Shh, I’m okay, baby.” He squeezed her hand. She wasn’t okay. A deep-seated need for revenge made his blood boil. “What happened to you?”

  She blinked repeatedly and squeezed his fingers. “I have a concussion, but I’m doing better. It’s you I’m worried about with internal bleeding.”

  A concussion? His blood went from a boil to molten lava. Whoever did this had better end up in a cage with rats. “They ran tests last night and found some bleeding under the ribs. Wanted to keep me for observation. The doctor came by after I talked to you this morning. She said I’m stable and should be able to go home tonight. How are you feeling?”

  “Better today. I have a headache, but the CT scan was negative, so I’ll be all right.” She let out a huge breath and reached across the bedrail to hug him, but stopped short, planting a kiss on his forehead instead. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Her oversized T-shirt caught his attention. “What are you wearing?”

  She drew back and glanced down. He eyed the baggy sweats that couldn’t be hers.

  “Everything was insane last night. The EMT’s cut my clothes off, and I didn’t have anything to wear. I went to Devon’s house to catch a few hours of sleep, and he gave me these. Emily’s going to bring me my clothes later. I didn’t want to waste time going to my place before I came here.”

  “Wait.” Wyatt fought to focus through his drug-fogged brain. “You slept at Blackwood’s? I thought they took him to the police station and you went to the ER?”

  “He came to the hospital to check on us, and…it was three in the morning by then. They wouldn’t release me without a ride home.” She shrugged. “He offered to take me to Sarah’s, but she lives so far, and I knew I was coming back here soon. So I stayed at his place. It was actually very generous of him.”

  Generous, yeah, that’s the word Wyatt would use. Both of their phones dinged with messages, but they could wait. He took a breath. Still pissed at himself for failing to protect her, he probably was projecting that onto Blackwood. “I guess there’s nothing wrong with crashing on his couch for a couple of hours.”

  She rubbed the base of her neck and shuffled her feet.

  His internal radar went up. She wasn’t telling him something. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” She cleared her throat.

  “Come on. I know you better than that. Tell me.”

  “I fell asleep on the couch, but woke up in the guest room. I didn’t remember going there.” Her nose crinkled and she tilted her head. “He said he carried me to it, but I didn’t remember that either.”

  A stink bomb exploded in Wyatt’s gut. Carried her to bed? That crossed a line. “What did you say to him about that?”

  Touching her temple, she closed her eyes. “Nothing. I thought it was kind of weird, but really, he’d been so nice to me. He said he wanted me to be comfortable.”

  “And you don’t remember anything?”

  “No. I was pretty exhausted and still kind of in a fog.”

  Agitation burned his stomach. That would make it damn easy for someone to take advantage of her. “Could anything else have happened that you might not remember?”

  Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “I can’t believe you’d ask that. Devon risked his life for us in that alley and helped me when no one else was around.”

  Ouch. That stung. Now he’d made her mad. But damn it, couldn’t she see how wrong that was? She and Blackwood had only had two business meetings together and weren’t even friends. No way he should be picking her up, especially if she wasn’t awake. And taking her to a bed? No. Just no.

  A man wearing an apron and hair net entered, holding a tray with muffins, fruit cups, juice, and coffee. He turned to Anne. “Are you Ms. Cooper?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mr. Blackwood said to tell you he was concerned that you hadn’t eaten this morning and hoped you would enjoy this.”

  Wyatt snorted. Perfect. Just perfect.

  The food-service man set the tray on the stand next to the bed.

  “Thank you,” Anne said as he left.

  Wyatt’s phone dinged repeatedly as more texts came in. He snagged it and tapped the screen. His blood pressure sky-rocketed, and fire scorched the back of his eyes.

  What the fuck?

  Chapter 28

  Gripping the phone, Wyatt’s fingers turned white as he checked the picture message from John.

  This is fucked, but thought you should know. He’d attached a press link with an image of Anne, head burrowed into Blackwood’s chest, his arm around her. The caption read, “Pearson’s girlfriend has a new hero.”

  A red haze blurred Wyatt’s vision. He’d always been the strong one. The one no one could take down. The one who ran twenty yards after the catch, dragging three defensive players with him.

  “What is it?” Anne leaned closer, her face pale.

  He held the phone out, and she gasped. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. The press took all these pictures when Devon brought me here. I forgot about them because I was so worried about you.”

  Wyatt’s ego took a hard hit, rattling his brain. He’d just had a taste of what she must have felt like with the “Jane Doe” social media blowup. This time, he was on the receiving end, and it sucked. And as much as Anne hated the attention, she’d endured the paparazzi to be with him.

  She shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Those vultures are horrible. They have no idea what you went through in that alley. Don’t believe a word of this garbage.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m so sorry if I’ve embarrassed you. I just wanted to see you as soon as possible, so I didn’t even think about what I was wearing. I’m not used to being chased by the press.”

  What the hell was he doing? He knew better than to let the media get to him. He’d spent the last night frantic, fearing the worst. Now Anne had a bandaged head, a concussion, and pictures of her splashed across the press wearing God-awful clothes because she’d rushed to his bedside. She must have been out of her mind with worry for him. Meanwhile, he was thinking like a jealous asshole. He didn’t know how to deal with jealousy, because he’d never been in love before.

  Bam.

  A high-speed pass whacked him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. In love? Yeah. He loved her. Until they’d met, his life had been a series of plays and players. Growing up, his whole life had been sports. Travel teams, competitions, skills training, cheerleaders. Fun at the time, but he never knew what he was missing—a deep connection with someone real who wore her heart on her sleeve and gave to everyone she touched.

  He and Anne took walks in the rain because she liked the sound drumming on the umbrella, with her nestled against his body. She brought homemade dog treats to dense-and-dumb Goober, giving him belly rubs even when he was wet and covered in mud. And Wyatt didn’t have sex with Anne, they made love. Huge difference.

/>   Before he’d blacked out in the alley, his last thought was he might never see her again. It had paralyzed him, shredding his heart. He swore if they got through the night, he’d never let her go.

  He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “None of this is your fault. You don’t ever embarrass me.”

  She pressed her lips together and gave a quick nod.

  He squeezed her hand. “We’ll get through this. Just like we have before. But if it’s too much for you, I understand.”

  Her eyes softened, and she bent down and kissed him. “I can handle anything with you by my side. You’re worth it.”

  His heart rolled in his chest, and his body relaxed for the first time since the fight in the alley. “Goober will be happy to see you again.”

  Anne jerked. “Oh my God, Goober. I almost forgot all about him.” She grabbed her phone. “Poor thing has to be starving. I’ll get a ride so I can go feed him.”

  “He’s fine.”

  “But no, he needs—”

  “Nothing. He’s taken care of. I called the dog walker.”

  “Phew, Okay.” Anne let out a breath.

  “Thanks for caring.” Wyatt squeezed her hand. “About him and about me.” He shut his eyes and frowned. “I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”

  “Stop it. You had no chance.” She rubbed his arm. “It happened so fast, and there were four of them.”

  Yeah, well, that hadn’t stopped Blackwood. Wyatt tamped down the irritation because he should be grateful.

  “Please, let it go. All that matters is that we’ll be okay.” She lowered the bedrail, sat in a chair, and rested her head against his shoulder.

  He stroked her hair and held her hand. Yeah, he loved her. Warmth spread in his chest as nerves tensed his shoulders. What the hell was he going to do about USC and the Ravens?

  Chapter 29

  Paul straightened his tie, smoothed back what was left of his hair, and adjusted his glasses. Small spasms squeezed his stomach as he stood in the foyer of the Hilton. Lynn might be at the reunion. The only reason he’d come. No idea what he’d say to her, but maybe he’d find out why she’d disappeared before graduation.

  He walked down the carpeted hall and past the bathrooms with glittering, gold-plated door handles. Following the signs for the reunion, he stopped in front of a banquet room and pulled out a handkerchief to dab the sweat from his forehead.

  He scanned the place, searching for Lynn. People milled around buffet tables loaded with appetizers, and a band played soft music in the background. No sign of her. His shoulders fell. He ordered a drink and sipped it next to the bar. Just like in college, no one bothered to talk to him. He might as well be invisible.

  His pulse jumped when he spotted Becky, Lynn’s old roommate and best friend. Becky swayed and waved her hands, engaged in a vivid conversation with a man he didn’t recognize. The guy took a step back and glanced around like he was looking for an excuse to get away. Sure enough, as soon as Becky turned her back to him and picked up her drink, the man bolted.

  Paul approached her. “Becky?”

  Her eyes widened, and her mouth twisted in disgust. “You?” She poked a finger into his chest and wobbled. “You have the nerve to show up here after what you did?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Lynn would still be alive today if it weren’t for you.” Becky’s red-rimmed eyes glared at him.

  “What do you mean?” His mouth went dry. “She’s not—”

  “You don’t know? She died years ago, and it’s your fault, you bastard.”

  All the blood drained from his head, numbing his brain. This couldn’t be true. “She d-died? How? When?”

  Becky waved her drink in the air. “Right after graduation. In a fire at her apartment complex in Virginia. She took the first job she could find to get away after you broke her heart.”

  Paul blinked several times, his head spinning. He broke her heart? She was the one who’d deserted him. “What do you mean? She left without a word. I never understood why.”

  “She found out about your little bet”—Becky’s eyes narrowed to slits—"and realized that all she meant to you was winning some stupid wager.”

  Paul flinched as if struck. He swallowed around the baseball-sized lump in his throat. Only he and Devon knew about their bets. If Lynn found out, Devon had to have told her.

  Becky poked a finger into his chest again. “She wouldn’t have been there if not for you. It’s your fault. Now get out of my face.” She shoved him and stormed off toward the bar.

  All the air left his lungs. He set his drink down and grabbed the back of a chair for support. Lynn hadn’t left him because she didn’t love him. What they’d had was real. And now she was dead, and he could never tell her the truth.

  The scent of fried food turned his stomach. Loud, drunken laughter hurt his ears, and he fumbled his way out to the parking lot. He got in the car, took off his glasses, and lowered his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body. Lynn died believing he didn’t love her.

  Pain carved a hole in his heart as he pictured her beautiful, sweet face. Why? Why had Devon done that? Paul took a shaky breath and slid his glasses back on. He straightened his spine and pursed his lips.

  Devon had mentioned he’d be working late at the shop. Paul checked the time. Not even seven yet, he should be able to catch Devon there. And he’d better have some answers.

  Paul entered the antique store, letting the door swing shut on its own, his heart beating a staccato.

  Devon glanced up from his seat at the desk. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight, but since you’re here, I have the tax files ready.” He tapped a stack of papers. “Do your magic and make my hospital donations offset my ‘other income’ so it passes Uncle Sam’s scrutiny.”

  Not giving a shit about business at the moment, Paul stalked across the room. “I just came from the reunion.”

  Devon snorted. “Don’t know why you bothered to go. Bunch of losers. Everyone fat and ugly?”

  Paul’s body stiffened at the disdainful question. He’d been bullied his whole life, which is why he’d latched onto the friendship with Devon in college. By association, people had at last included Paul, and he’d been freed of the nerdy geek stigma. But at what cost? He had to know. “I ran into Becky. Do you remember her?”

  “Can’t say I do.” Devon shrugged.

  “She told me something about Lynn. You remember her?”

  Devon’s eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. “Ah yes. The one bet I lost.” He spun his chair around to the file cabinet behind him and yanked the drawer open, his back stiff.

  No denying Devon’s angry reaction. Paul fought the turmoil inside to keep his voice calm. “She wasn’t a bet; she was a person. Did you know she died?”

  “No. I didn’t keep tabs on her.” Devon spun back around and punched some numbers into a calculator.

  “You don’t seem surprised or upset.”

  Devon looked up. “Why would I be upset? I barely knew the girl.”

  The girl. The one bet I lost. Not Lynn. Not the sweetheart who’d stolen Paul’s heart. Not the woman who never had a chance to live out her life. Paul’s blood pounded in his ears.

  “What’s your problem? I really don’t have time for games.” Devon stood.

  Despite the fact that Devon towered over him, Paul met his gaze. “Why did you do it?”

  For just a second, Devon’s eyes widened. If Paul hadn’t been looking for a reaction, he would have missed it.

  “Do what?” Devon asked.

  “Tell Lynn about the bet.”

  “Oh, that.” Relief flickered in Devon’s eyes. Again, it was fast and subtle. He waved a hand. “I did it for you.”

  “What do you mean, you did that for me?” Paul’s body quaked with pent-up anger. “You made her think I didn’t care about her. She left town and died not knowing the truth.”

  “You didn’t see it then, and you’re blind to it now. She was al
l wrong for you.” Devon shook his head. “I tried to spare you from getting crushed when she dumped you. Someone had to save you from yourself.”

  Paul balled his hands into fists. Devon couldn’t be serious. “You honestly thought you were doing me a favor?”

  “Yes.” Devon nodded. “I don’t mean to be harsh, but take a look in the mirror. She was out of your league. The longer you dated her, the more it would hurt when she cut you lose.”

  The truth kicked Paul in the gut, and his shoulders slumped. Devon was right. Lynn could have done a lot better. Guys asked her out all the time. But she’d turned them down for him and might be alive today if she hadn’t left town.

  Devon grabbed his coat and shrugged it on. “Hey, sometimes people get what they deserve. I’m sorry she died that way, but you were her little puppet, and when she snipped the strings, you were gonna crash. I had your back the whole time.”

  Paul couldn’t think, his brain so overloaded.

  “I’m done here. Tell me if I missed anything.” Devon headed toward the entrance. “I may have a buyer for that glass lamp. I’ll let you know if it goes through so you can handle the sale.”

  The door banged shut behind him.

  Paul sucked in a sharp breath. Devon had said, “I’m sorry she died that way.”

  But Paul never told Devon that Lynn had died in a fire. The tiny hairs under Paul’s collar raised. Come to think of it, Devon’s family had died the same way.

  No. Had to be a coincidence.

  Paul tried to shake the suspicion off, but a sick feeling twisted his gut.

  Where there was smoke…there was fire…

  Chapter 30

  Anne dabbed concealer over the cut on her temple. It had been a week since the attack, but she still needed makeup to cover the spot. She and Wyatt had planned a hike through the woods to see the rapids. She’d wanted to climb up to the waterfall, but with both of them on the mend, they’d decided to take the short, flat trail and save that for another time.