Redeem Me: Oakville Series:Book Four (17 page)

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Authors: Kathy-Jo Reinhart

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Redeem Me: Oakville Series:Book Four
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“When I see two of my friends hurting and neither one of them will talk about why, I step in. I won’t ask what exactly the problem is because it’s none of my business.”

“You’re right, it’s absolutely none of your business,” I interrupt. My smartass remark earns me a hard slap to the back of my head.

“Ouch! What the fuck was tha—?” I start to question, but she covers my mouth with her hand to shut me up. Smartly, I do as she wants.

“Whatever the problem is, fix it. Talk to each other. She hasn’t left her apartment in two weeks, and you’ve decided to take up permanent residence on this damn barstool. Man up, and go talk it out. Take it from someone who’s been where you are now. Dark and depressed is not new to me. We all deserve to be happy. When you find the one person who makes you happy, you hold on as tightly as you can. As bad as you feel right now, it won’t compare to the pain you’ll feel after losing her forever,” she states, then gets up. “Go to her, Angel. You owe it to her as well as yourself to at least see if it can be worked out.” I watch her walk out of the bar. As soon as the door closes behind her, I reach over the bar and snatch the bottle of whiskey back. Not bothering with a glass, I tip the bottle to my lips and drink it down until it chokes me.

Can I do this? Can I face her long enough to hear her out? It can’t possibly hurt any more than it already does. Or can it? I have to admit, not knowing what she found out about Katie has been weighing heavily on my mind. Is she dead like I’ve dreaded all these years, or is she alive and well? Knowing the truth might actually be a relief. The not knowing sure hasn’t helped me all these years. I pick up my phone and type out a text to Chelsie.

Can we meet at the lake tomorrow around 11 am to talk?

Her reply is instant.

Yes. I’ll be there.

Now, I need to sober my ass up and pray I didn’t just make a huge mistake.

Chelsie

E
ver since I got the text from Angel last night, I’ve been a nervous wreck, but I need him to see I never intended to cause him any pain. That’s the last thing in the world I’d ever want to do. Deep down, he has to know that. He claims to love me, and if that’s true, he has to believe me.

I decided to wear my hair down and apply very little makeup, just as Angel likes. I’m wearing his favorite jean shorts and purple tank top, hoping looking good for him will work in my favor. As I pass the mirror, I check my appearance one more time to make sure it’s perfect before heading out the door.

As I’m driving, the nerves kick into overdrive. It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining and there’s a cool breeze keeping the scorching heat at bay. I roll the windows down, allowing the wind to blow through my hair, and crank up the radio, hoping to distract myself.

After a little while, I look down at the speedometer and realize I’m going too fast for the curve up ahead. I tap my brake, attempting to slow the car down, but the pedal goes right to the floor. My heart starts to race as the trees along the road begin to blur. I stomp on the pedal over and over so hard, it feels as if it may bust right through the floor of the car, but it’s not slowing down. Fear and panic begin to take over as I see the curve approaching quickly. My palms sweat, making it difficult to hold onto the steering wheel. Tightly gripping the wheel, I try to steer through the curve, but it’s no use.

As the car begins to flip in the air, I close my eyes and pretend I’m at the lake. Angel and I are sitting by a roaring fire. He’s holding me tight and telling me how much he loves me. A small smile crosses my face before the car slams into a tree. The shattering of glass is the last thing I hear before everything goes black.

 

Angel

S
he’s over an hour late. No texts. No calls. No nothing. What did I expect? Again, I’ve allowed this woman to crush me. I’m done. She’s the one calling me every day for two weeks, begging for a chance to explain herself, and when I give in, she doesn’t show. I was so afraid of hurting her, I never imagined she’d hurt me. It’s my own damn fault for falling in love with her.

I get into my car and peel out down the dirt road, deciding just to go to Beasley on my own. This way, I can avoid Chelsie all together. We’ll both be better off without each other. I was stupid to think anyone could ever truly love me after all the shit I’ve done.

A mile down the road, smoke billows from the bank near the dangerous curve. An eerie feeling takes hold, and my stomach drops. I slow near the curve, parking a safe distance away. The closer I get to the smoke, the faster my heart beats.

When I reach the top of the bank, everything begins to move in slow motion. My heart thunders in my chest as tears blur my vision. I wipe at my eyes, praying I’m not seeing what I think I am. At the bottom of the ditch wedged between two trees sits Chelsie’s car on its roof. My heart sinks. Every ounce of anger I felt toward her melts away, leaving only how much I love her. I have this urgent need to hold her in my arms and tell her how sorry I am. Over and over, I plead with God for her to be okay. To give me the chance to tell her all the things I still need to say.

I hear a car coming down the road. Leaping into the middle of the lane, I flag him down. He screeches to a stop inches from my trembling body. I run to the side of the car where he has his window slightly cracked open. “Please, call 911. There’s been an accident,” I ask. Without waiting for his response, I make my way back to the side of the road. I need to get to her. I stumble down the bank, slipping and sliding on leaves and rocks all the way down. I see Chelsie’s limp body hanging upside down, her seatbelt the only thing holding her in place. Her face is battered and bloody. My heart clenches in my chest and the air is knocked from my lungs. Tears roll steadily down my face as I fall to my knees, and scream, “Chelsie!” My own voice sounds unfamiliar to me.

It only takes a few seconds to get myself together and to my feet. I grab the door handle, but it’s jammed. Without a second thought, I take my fist and smash it through the window. Shards of glass rip through my arm, causing a stabbing pain, but I ignore it and reach in, slicing my arm on the remaining glass. Releasing her seatbelt, I carefully take hold of her and ease Chelsie from the wreckage, trying my best not to jostle her. Sirens wail in the distance, getting closer. On wobbly legs, I cradle her in my arms and manage to carry her up the embankment, fighting the fatigue and pain. Getting her to safety is all that matters.

As I make it to the shoulder of the road, the ambulance is finally in view. I look down at her beautifully broken face and I’m reminded of just how much I want, need, and love her. She has to be okay. If I hadn’t been such a fucking prick, she wouldn’t have been on this road today. This is all my fault.

“Sir, you need to let us take her now,” a paramedic requests, breaking me from my thoughts. I can’t bear to let her go, afraid this might be the last time I ever get to hold her.
Please, don’t let this be the last time.
I need to tell her I’m sorry, to beg her for forgiveness.

“I love you, sweet pea,” I whisper before allowing the paramedics to take her from my arms. They carefully place her on a stretcher and frantically begin working on her. Another paramedic takes a hold of my arm.

“Sir, let us check these cuts out. They look pretty deep,” the paramedic says, his voice full of concern. Looking down at my arm for the first time, I cringe. Blood pours from a dozen or so gouges, and some still have glass wedged in them, but I don’t give a shit about my arm. My only concern is my girl. I try to follow Chelsie into the ambulance, but the paramedic stops me, telling me there’s not enough room for me and I’ll have to ride in the other ambulance. I take one last look at Chelsie and reluctantly get in the other one.

The ride to the hospital takes forever. The entire time, my mind is only on Chelsie. She looked so battered and broken, just like my heart feels right now. I can’t lose her, especially like this. Not when she thinks I hate her. I need the chance to tell her I love her, no matter what she did or why she did it. She’s the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with—I just wish I didn’t wait this long.

Once at the hospital, I endure two hours of agonizing pain. They clean out all the cuts and follow it up with about fifty stitches. But the pain the glass inflicted is nothing compared to pain of still not knowing how Chelsie is doing. The not knowing is driving me crazy.

As I near the waiting area, I see the gang sitting around with solemn looks on their faces. Amber looks up. As soon as her sad, scared eyes meet mine, she stands and runs into my arms, hitting me with so much force, we both nearly tumble to the floor. She sobs gently against my shoulder, so I hold her a little tighter. It isn’t long before I’m being squeezed in between all the women. I can’t stop myself from shooting a grin over their shoulders to their men. They finally let go and lead me over to an empty chair in the waiting area.

Four hours later, a doctor finally emerges. My heart rate quickens and my stomach flip flops. I hold my breath, praying he’s here to deliver good news. His face is intense and serious, sending chills down my spine.

“Mr. Walker?” The doctor asks as he approaches me. I nod because I don’t think I can speak. Breathing is difficult at this point. “Chelsie is out of surgery. It went well with no complications. She had a ruptured spleen, so we had to remove it. She’s resting in the ICU.” I take a deep breath.

“Will she be okay?” I question.

“Well, right now she’s stable, but still unconscious.”

“How long before she wakes up?”

“That’s up to her. We just have to wait and see. The baby is still doing fine,” he says, and I stop breathing again, my eyes wide in shock.

“Baby?” I whisper, not sure I heard him right.

“Yes, baby. She’s around ten weeks pregnant,” the doctor states. The room starts to spin and I wobble on my feet. Kyle is by my side in an instant, guiding me to the nearest chair. Holly and Amber continue to speak with the doctor, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. The only thing I hear is “baby”. A few months ago, any kind of relationship was the last thing on my mind and now...now I have a girl I’m madly in love with. And in nine months, I’ll be a father.

“Are you okay, man?” Kyle questions.

“To be perfectly honest, no. No, I’m not. On one hand, I’m a little excited by the fact that I’ll be a father, but on the other, I’m worried I’m not that kind of guy,” I reply, and I can’t help but wonder if Chelsie knew and it was one of the reasons she wanted to see me so badly.

“Do you love her?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say without hesitation. Kyle smiles at me and pats my shoulder.

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