Page 27

27

PATRICK

" S top," I say. "No more, Tina."

The incessant beeping sounds of the hospital machines next to my bed are driving me absolutely bat-shit crazy. Pulse, oxygen, breathing rate, EKG. What else do they measure, how many times I pass gas? Get a boner?

My mind drifts to Michael. He was lucky to make it out alive. The hellscape known as Jake’s house will not soon be forgotten.

"You have to rehydrate, and you haven’t even touched your water." She holds up a bathrobe-pink plastic container full of shaved ice and a spoon. "At least suck on some of this."

“Ugh. Fine.” I hold out my hand and take the small pitcher and spoon. I begin shoveling ice shavings into my mouth like a fat kid eating birthday cake.

"Slow down," she says. "You’ll choke on it, and I can’t be responsible for saving your life."

I set the ice down on the food tray in front of me and rest my head back onto the elevated head of the bed. The splitting headache is nothing unexpected after being struck multiple times by that psychopath.

"Are you okay, bestie?"

I let my head loll over to the side and I smile. If my attempt looks anything like it feels, it’s pathetic. "Thank you for being here."

"A flock of Mocking Jays couldn’t keep me away from you when you need me," she says, referencing crazy creatures from her favorite movie franchise. It’s good to know some things won’t change, even if I nearly died. "I have to tell you something."

"What’s that?"

"I’m really sorry about Jake." She buries her face in her hands. When she looks back up her makeup has begun to smear, casting dark shadows under each eye. "If it hadn’t been for our little bet, you’d never have gotten as close to him as you did and none of this would have happened."

Grabbing her hand, I squeeze. "There isn’t one thing about this situation that you’re to blame for. It was my own stupid-ass self, trying to get a boy’s attention to make me feel better about myself when I was upset. It’s a long-standing toxic trait of mine."

She nods. "You’re probably right. I’ve known you a long time and you’ve got a couple toxic traits we need to work on."

We both laugh. She stands and leans over my bed, giving me a hug.

"Patrick?" she asks, straightening up to full height.

"Yeah?"

"What’s going to happen between you and Michael?" She backs away from the bed a few steps and crosses her arms. "He’s a really good guy."

He is such a good man, but I’ve probably fucked it up permanently with my outburst at the restaurant. "Do you really think there’s still a chance for us to be together? Even after I yelled at him? Immediately didn’t trust him when that other guy came up to us?"

"All I know is he came looking for you when you didn’t respond, and then he saved your life and got hurt in the process. A stupid misunderstanding between the two of you shouldn’t be that big a deal in the larger picture." She shrugs. "But what do I know? I’d still break up with someone if they didn’t like the Hunger Games movies."

I laugh and check the time on the wall clock across the room from my bed. "Not to change the subject, but if you’re working today, you’d better get a move on. You’ll be late."

"I can call in sick if you’d prefer I stay a while longer?" Her puppy-dog eyes would have pulled on my heartstrings had her expression been genuine.

"Can’t use me as an excuse not to put in your time at work. If I can survive a serial killer, you can manage an evening shift at the club." I smile and wave as she heads for the door.

"I’ll come visit you tomorrow," she says.

"Hopefully I’ll be discharged in the morning. This lump on the back of my head is going down nicely."

She blows me a kiss and says, "Call you tonight on my way home from work?"

"Can’t wait," I say with a smile.

Tina leaves the room, but the door doesn’t even have time to close before it opens wide again. Now who is coming to see me?

"Hey," Michael says as he wheels his way inside my room. He sits in a wheelchair, dressed in a hospital gown, attached to an I.V. pole, and struggles to maneuver past the bed.

"Michael?"

He nods, tears filling his eyes as he rolls up alongside me. Reaching for my hands, he holds onto me, kissing my bandage-wrapped knuckles. "I’m so sorry," he says. "Please believe me. You’re the only one I’ve been seeing and that other guy you saw at the restaurant was just a mistake I went on one date with before we ever met."

The kindness and sincerity in his voice draw me in instantly. "Honestly, I realized that the moment I stepped foot into Jake’s place. It had nothing to do with the fact he was a psychopath killer… I didn’t even know it at that point. All I knew was me getting angry at what I perceived as you being dishonest with me was a mistake. My own fears and insecurities had gotten in the way."

"Are you up for telling me what happened? How badly are you injured?" His eyes look at the brightly lit instruments beeping next to my bed. "Your poor hands." He tenderly touches the bandages again.

"I’m okay, Michael. You got to his house in time to keep the really bad things from happening to me."

"God… what had he planned for you?"

I shake my head. "I think I’ll leave that for another day." How I wish the beeping would stop. Rubbing my temples, I close my eyes.

"Is the noise bothering you?" He wheels to the other side of my bed and presses a green button. "I’m surprised they even had the audible on, usually they silence them unless they think you’re critical."

"Thank you," I say. My headache immediately begins to subside. Taking a few ice chips into my mouth, I suck on them until they melt into water and swallow. The cold liquid feels so good on my scratchy throat.

He looks into my eyes and smiles. The butterflies in my belly take flight and all I can imagine are the intimate moments we will still be able to share. Not just the sex, but the long walks holding hands, late night movies side-by-side on the sofa, soft kisses before falling asleep, and even the little annoying things I know he will do, like squeezing the toothpaste from the middle.

"Would you like to talk at all about what happened?" he asks. "The last thing I remember is seeing you holding a bow and arrow. What happened?"

"Oh, that?" I say, looking down at my hands. There is so much I want to tell him, unburden my heart and mind, but should I? How would he feel knowing what happened to me? Then again, he is the detective on the case. Surely, he will be in the know sooner or later. "Where should I start?"

"Wherever you feel most comfortable."

"After our dinner, I was so upset. I went to Jake’s house to hang out." Don’t lie. This is your chance to be completely honest. "Sorry, that’s not entirely true."

"Go on," he says. "It’s okay." The kindness in his eyes reassures me more than I was expecting.

"I went there to hook up with him." I swallow hard. "You can ask Tina about this, but for good or bad, when I get upset I tend to run into the arms of a man. The comfort they provide me in that moment is like a drug, but then it passes quickly. Honestly, it’s embarrassing, and I hope I never act like that again."

"We all have our own terrible coping mechanisms… it’s probably why we are still single."

I nod. "Anyway, I spent the night talking with him. I knew he wanted more from me, but it wasn’t something I was willing to do. See… I still have feelings for you and I soon realized I shouldn’t have even set foot in that house to begin with. By the time I realized that and wanted to leave, it was too late.” I take a deep breath, willing myself to keep going while I had the strength and courage. “I wanted to leave… not because he was a killer… I didn’t know that about him yet. Recognizing the pattern, I always fall back on, I wanted to self-correct and get the hell out of there. Jake, on the other hand, had other ideas."

"Is this when he hit you over the head?" Michael asks, pointing to the lump at the back of my head.

I nod. "Fucker really got me good. Waking up hours later on the floor, I was already tied up and gagged. Every few hours, he would give me some food or water and then tie me right back up."

"Did he leave you alone in the house at all? Or was he there the whole time?"

"No," I say. "He never left me alone for long. Jake spent a great deal of time pacing the room, talking to himself. It was like he was carrying on a full conversation with another personality or something. The things he had planned for me were…" My voice breaks and tears well up in my eyes.

"It’s okay," Michael says, leaning forward and wrapping me up in his strong arms. His body heat soothes my fears and terrifying memories. "He’s gone now." He rests back in his chair and waits for me to continue.

I nod. "There were hours upon hours of time for me to plan what I would do if I ever untied myself. Once you freed my hands, I lunged for Jake’s quiver of arrows and compound bow. He’d often go to the target shooting range when Tina and I were there, and I knew he had the weapon in the house somewhere. Lucky for me, it was in the coat closet next to where I was tied up."

"Then what happened?" His eyes grow wide. "He struck me in the head at this point and I blacked out."

"At first I thought he killed you. He hit you with a goddamned baseball bat… twice."

He nods. "First time right between the shoulder blades. He must have missed his target and tried again."

"Seemed that way," I say. "It gave me just enough time to load up an arrow and pull back." My voice catches in my throat once again. I swallow hard and fight back the tears that fill my eyes. "He was about to swing the bat for the third time… I knew it would kill you if he hadn’t already. There wasn’t time to tell him to stop, so I shot him."

Michael looks away and sighs. "I’m sorry."

Our eyes meet. "For what?"

"I’d never wish upon anyone… especially someone as kind and good-hearted as you to have to take another person’s life."

Tears flow down my cheeks and I wipe them away.

"Thank you," he says, once again taking my hand in his and kissing me.

I let the moment breathe for a while without saying a word. We both sit in silence, holding hands. What must he think of me? I save his life and I’m the one still crying. Am I weak?

He locks his chair and stands. Thank goodness, he isn’t so badly injured he actually needs it. A sigh of relief escapes my chest. Michael leans over me and takes me into his arms, holding on tight. I melt into him and cry. His comforting form feels like protection and safety. As long as we are together, trusting each other, and in love, I will have nothing else to fear.

"Where does this leave us?" Michael asks, still holding me tightly against him. I can hear his heart beating fast and he is holding his breath, waiting for me to answer.

I let go of him and he sits back in his wheelchair where we are at the same height, looking into each other’s eyes. "Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" he says, sounding shocked. "You didn’t do anything wrong."

I shake my head. "That’s where you’re wrong, Michael. The second that guy showed up at the restaurant, I immediately distrusted you… ready to throw what we had away, to protect my feelings. How immature is that? It’s the stupidest thing I could have done, and yet, here we are."

Michael remains silent for a few moments as he is probably mulling my words around in his head and heart. He finally shrugs and smiles. "I forgive you."

My heart races a mile a minute and I go to swivel my legs out to the side of the bed, but my vision begins to swim. That lump on the back of my head is clearly still an issue. Lying back against the bed, I start to laugh.

"What’s so funny?"

I can’t speak, I just laugh. Insanity must have taken over, tears rolling down my cheeks, I can’t catch my breath. My split with reality has infected Michael as he too starts to laugh. Through blurry, tear-filled eyes, I watch the man of my dreams release built-up stress and anxiety through a burst of laughter. It is a beautiful thing to witness.

Finally, the hilarity subsides and we both grow quiet. Our breathing begins to normalize, and I manage to sit up, letting my legs dangle over the side of the bed.

"Be careful," he says, reaching out to catch me if I fall.

I wave him away. "I’m fine now… promise."

He smiles at me, our eyes once again meeting.

"Michael?"

"Yes?"

"I would love for us to continue to see one another and I will make you a promise."

He smiles from ear to ear, his cheeks blushing the sexiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen. I could gobble him up and kiss him from head to toe. "I promise you I will no longer run away. If and when we come across a bump in our road together, I’ll talk to you about it and we will get over it together."

Michael grabs my hands in his. "I promise the same."

We lean toward each other and our lips meet. His soft, tender kiss gives me such intense pleasure, my body is instantly covered in goosebumps. Without disengaging our lips and tongues, which explore one another as if for the first time, he wraps his arms around me. Once again, I melt into his embrace.