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brITT

INTERRUPTED

B eep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Is it strange that I dream of running in a field of flowers? That I dream of the big silly dog? Or the man I love whisking me away on his gallant horse?

That should be strange, right? Even terribly cliché.

But alas, I literally dream of Jack walking toward me with an armful of wildflowers, of Annie trotting around us the way she does. I think of how her unnaturally long slobbery tongue lolls out to the side and her dribble flies in the wind while we cruise in Jack’s Mustang.

All those details fit the criteria, right?

Flowers. Dog. Mustang.

It should be pleasant; it mostly is. Except even in my dream, my body hurts and the music sucks.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

I’m aware of my body, of swollen muscles, an arm that weighs a ton… but my other arm, the hand attached to the end, feels like it’s flying.

I feel strong fingers stroke and squeeze. I feel his warmth and presence. I know it’s Jack, but I’m way too scared to stop dreaming, because it might mean his hand will go away.

I don’t want him to let me go. I’ll never stop wanting him to hold my hand.

“I see your eyelids fluttering.” Gravelly voice, exactly as I remember it, his breath feathers across my skin. “Wake up for me, Bambie. I wanna see your pretty eyes before everyone comes back and I have to leave again.”

My body throbs with pain as I come closer to consciousness. So much pain. Every single beat of my heart hurts my face, my ribs, my arms and legs.

“Wake up, Bambie. Please wake up.”

I force one eyelid open and squint at the harsh light. The brightness reflecting off white walls and a white ceiling hurts my brain, but then his face hovers over mine and blocks a lot of the fluorescence from above.

“Hey there, beautiful. I’ve been waiting for you to look at me again.”

I smile…

Well, I attempt to smile, but when his eyes turn angry and his smile turns to a growl, I stop. It hurts anyway.

Bringing his large hand to my face, like the gentlest fluttering of a bird’s wings, he strokes my cheek. “Look at you, Bambie. Look what he did.”

“Jack…”

His eyes glitter with emotion. “Hey.”

I try to sit up, to get more comfortable, but he drops his hand on my shoulder and holds me down. “Stay there. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“M’okay.”

“Are you awake now?” He wears the barest ghost of a smile. “I was here earlier and you kinda chatted for a sec, but then you were gone again.”

I don’t remember that. Frowning, I lay back at his insistent hands. “I chatted?”

His smile grows just a little. “Yeah, you told me hey.”

My foggy mind latches onto his teasing grin. “What else did I say?”

His dimple pops. “You said I was pretty.”

“Oh.” I close my eyes to rest. I’m so tired. “Yeah.” I’m not embarrassed. “That probably happened. You are pretty.”

His light chuckle has my eyes opening again. I can’t waste the opportunity to see him, to speak to him, to touch him.

It’s been way too long.

He broke up with me. He doesn’t want me. I need to get my fill now, because soon, he’ll be gone.

“I saw you.”

His smile drops. Pulling back and taking my hand, he strokes my wrist, careful not to touch my IV lines. “You saw me? Where?”

“At school.” I watch his eyes turn to a glittering rage. “When you…” I sh rug. “You know, with Brad.”

He nods sharply. “Yeah.”

“You helped me.” I frown, remembering Brad’s heavy body on mine. His angry eyes; so much anger. His heavy fists hurting me. “You saved me.”

He swallows audibly. “You saved my nieces, Bambie.”

“I love them.”

Dropping his head to our joined hands, he lets out a heavy breath. “They love you, too, Britt. They really do. Smalls said she’s sorry. For being mean. She really wants you to know that.”

“I’m not mad at her.”

He nods against our hands. “I told her that. I knew you wouldn’t be mad. She needs you to tell her.”

“Okay…”

I try to think through the fuzz in my brain. I think about waking up with my brothers surrounding me yesterday… or was it the day before? I can’t remember. They said I was too banged up to go back to school for the rest of this term. I’d planned class parties and fun picnics for the last week of school. Even with a sass-filled Evie, I was excited to try to win her smiles. “I guess I won’t see her until the new semester…”

Nodding, he sniffles against my bedding. “That’s probably best. She’s pretty messed up about what happened; I don’t think she should see you in here.”

“Do you know when I’m allowed out?”

“No.” He shakes his head gently. “I don’t know. I think another day or so. That’s what Alex said.”

“Do you–”

“Listen, Bambie.” His eyes come up to meet mine. “Britt…” His eyes sparkle. “I’m sorry.”

Britt … That might be the second time he’s ever called me by my real name. My frown digs in deeper. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He kisses my hand. “I’m sorry for everything that happened to us. I’m sorry for what I said at the restaurant.”

“I didn’t cheat on you with Brad.”

“I know. I never thought you did. I was wrong for saying what I did, Britt. I was just so scared; of losing you, of losing everything that mattered to me. I can turn into a real dick when I’m mad or scared.”

I want to smile again. I want to laugh. It’s funny because it’s true, but my face simply hurts too much to smile. “I noticed your tendency to tantrum when you’re mad. ”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Hey.” Lifting my uninjured arm, I thread my fingers into his hair. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! I still lost you.”

“Jack, I’m right here–”

“Hey, babe. I got–” Luc stops in the doorway and has Jack and I shooting apart like we’re guilty of a crime. He freezes at the threshold to the room and lifts his candy bar filled hands. “Shit. I’m sorry. I can come back–”

“No.” Standing so fast, his chair shoots back, Jack wipes a fast hand beneath his nose. For the first time since I woke, I notice the dark sling that holds a muscular arm against his chest. “It’s fine. I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry, Bambie.” Leaning in close, he presses a heavy kiss to my forehead. “I’m so sorry for everything.” He presses a second kiss between my eyes. This one’s different. This one’s goodbye. “Be happy, okay?”

He turns on his heels and pushes past Luc before I can get oxygen back into my lungs.

“Shit.” Eyes shooting between Jack’s back and me, Luc grits his teeth. “I’m sorry, Brat. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No. It’s…” I sigh. I don’t even know what it is. “It’s whatever.” I shake my head and lie back. “Shitty timing, Luc.”

He steps into the room and dumps his chocolate stash on the cabinet beside my bed.

Beside a bouquet of pink daisies.

“I can chase him down. I don’t mind.”

I look out into the hallway – it’s already empty.

He’s long gone.

Sighing and fighting against the tears that prickle the backs of my eyes, I shake my head. “He’s gone. Don’t worry about it.”

Jack said sorry for calling me names, but he never once said he’s sorry for breaking up with me. He never once said he wanted to get back together.

We’re still over, and now that’s he’s had a chance to apologize, he can walk away with a clear conscience.

Weeks after finally being discharged from the sterile and depressing hospital, I pick my pillows up off my bed and toss them to my bedroom floor in a heap .

Nothing.

I tear my blankets away, then my old stuffed doll that’s made a surprise return the last few weeks while I sleep and need a hug.

I can’t find it.

I toss the covers to the floor, then peel my sheets up.

Still nowhere to be found.

Dammit!

I grab my pillows from the bottom of the pile and pull the cases off. Maybe the universe is playing a sick joke on me, maybe the universe enjoys watching my panic, but still, I can’t find it.

My left arm, casted and decorated, makes my movements slow and clunky, but at least the deep throb of pain has gone. It took the better part of a month to stop waking me in my sleep. Finally, I’m used to the plaster taking up my arm from elbow to fingers, and the itch has finally slowed to a light tingle.

I’ve lost more than a couple pencils in my effort to scratch an itch that was sending me insane.

I’ll get those back when I lose the cast.

“Brat?”

“Alex.” I turn to my door and huff out an impatient breath. “I can’t find it!”

“Still?” Frowning, he steps into my room and begins moving books around on my side table. He leans over the back to see if it fell down there. “It has to be here somewhere.”

“Well, it’s not!” My stomach rolls with grief. “I need it back, X.”

“It’s okay.” He drops to his hands and knees and looks under my bed. “We’ll find it, I promise. You need to take a breath and trust the process. I’m a cop. I detect shit for a living.”

I turn to the chair in the corner and start tossing clothes off. “What if we don’t?”

Jesus, I’m on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.

I woke up this morning and realized it was gone. Nowhere to be found. I’ve spent the last five hours tearing my house apart and leaving chaos behind in every room.

Alex sits back on his haunches and looks at me. “When was the last time you saw it?”

“I don’t know…” I cross my arms awkwardly over my chest. I need a damn hug. “Yesterday. I know for sure I had it yesterday.”

“So what did you do yesterday? Did you have it at breakfast?”

“Yep. I had it at breakfast. ”

“Lunch? We had lunch at Franky’s. Did you have it then?”

“Yep.” I transfer the weight between my feet. “I had it at lunch.”

“What did you do after lunch?”

“I hung out with the guys for a bit. Watched them practice.” Because I’m a loser and have no friends of my own.

“Did you lose it at Scotch’s place?”

“No.”

“Where’d you go after that?”

The cemetery.

My eyes must give away my thoughts, because Alex stands and steps in front of me. “Where’d you go, Brat?”

“To Steph.”

He nods gently. “Do you remember having it after that?”

I think about walking away from the cemetery. I think about dinner last night, exactly what I was wearing, exactly the things I did.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Go back to Steph. Maybe it’s there.”

“That’s a huge space to search, X.” I slump with defeat. “What if I never find it again?”

He smiles and patronizingly chucks my chin. “You definitely won’t with that attitude. Go have a look. A walk in the sun will be good for you, anyway. You’ve been moping around inside way too much.”

“Not moping.” I look at my bedside clock.

Three on a Friday afternoon. The coast should be clear.

I nod and sit on the edge of my bed and grab my shoes. Slowly working to slide the first foot in, Alex chuckles at my clumsy movements and drops to his knees to help.

“I’ll be back in an hour…” I consider my words. “Or six, depends if I need to crawl around in the grass.”

He finishes tying my laces and stands. He pulls me up like I’m an invalid.

I’m not.

My legs work just fine.

Leaning forward, he drops a kiss on my cheek. “Be careful. Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah.”

“Watch out for the cemetery stalkers.”

Ha. Funny.