Traitorous Heart: #7 (The Traitorous Heart Series) (4 page)

CHAPTER 8

Katie

As soo
n
as I landed at LAX I hailed a cab and went straight to the hospital. I only had a small carryon so it was easy to get around, even in my condition.

When I reached the hospital greeting area, I asked for Griffin’s room and was told how to get there. He’d been moved out of critical condition and was stable so I was glad of that.

His room was large and covered from ceiling to floor with flowers, cards, balloons, teddy bears, and even panties. I added my little contribution of flowers to the dozens he’d already received.

When I turned to study the man lying in the bed, I was shocked. Griffin didn’t look like himself. He’d always been larger than life to me. But now, lying in the stark hospital bed, he seemed small. His head had been shaved and wrapped in white gauze. His usually tanned skin seemed pale.

“Griffin,” I said quietly, placing my hand over his. It was cold and I flinched at the sensation.

His eyes blinked open.

“Katie.” He tried to smile but it was more of a grimace. “They’ve got me loaded up on all sorts of pain medication. Is it really you? Or am I dreaming?” His eyes closed. “If it’s a dream I don’t want to wake up.”

Awwww,
I thought. He was sappy but sweet.

“It’s really me,” I said, patting his hand.

“But how did you get here?” He opened his eyes again and focused on the sling binding my arm against my body. “You shouldn’t have come. You’re still recovering.”

“I had to,” I said, sniffling. Tears filled my eyes and fell onto my cheeks. I had no fucking idea why I was crying, but I couldn’t stop. “I needed to thank you for saving me. If you hadn’t come to my apartment when you did…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. The truth about what had almost happened didn’t compute.

Griffin sighed heavily and caressed my hand. “It was the least I could do.” He searched my face. His gray-blue eyes were filled with tears. “My mom died when I was little. Did I tell you that?”

I thought back on our first nights together. “Yes,” I whispered as more tears rolled down my cheeks.

“It was my fault she died. If I hadn’t been so selfish she’d still be alive.” He blinked rapidly and I could see he was trying not to cry too. “My father could barely look at me after her funeral. He still struggles to look me in the eye.” A ghost of a smile licked his lips. “I’m his biggest disappointment.”

I shook my head. What could I say? It shocked me his father would be disappointed in Griffin. He’d accomplished so much. I shuddered internally. I felt disappointment that our relationship hadn’t worked out. “He’s a fool if he can’t see how amazing you are,” I finally said.

Griffin shook his head. “I’m the fool.” He looked me directly in the eyes. “I was afraid you would hold me back from my career. I was scared that my feelings for you would overshadow my commitment to Crushed Velvet. I worried that I would love you more than I loved my band.” He turned away before continuing. “I let my fear and my need to prove to my father that I could make it in this business eclipse everything else. Including my feelings for you.”

I realized with profound sorrow that he was trying to explain why he’d sabotaged our relationship before it had a chance to really bloom. “It’s okay, Griffin.”

He swallowed, fighting back more tears. “It isn’t. My whole life I’ve believed I was strong, stronger even than my father. In reality I’m a coward and I let my fear destroy the one pure and beautiful thing in my life.” His eyes locked on mine. “What you and I had—it was bigger than anything I could’ve believed possible. And it was amazing. I fell in love with you.”

I started; surprised he’d used the L word. Was he being serious or were his words a side effect of the medication he was on?

“What’s so crazy is I don’t need my father’s money. I don’t need him. My mom left me with an enormous trust fund. I’m probably richer than my dad. What I needed though and I guess what I still need is his approval.” He covered his eyes with a hand. “I’m nearly thirty and I still give a fuck what my father thinks.”

I pulled his hand from his eyes. “Of course you do. I think that’s part of life. Regardless of the size of asshole our parents choose to be, we want them to be proud of us.”

“But I hurt you. Can you ever forgive me?” He frowned.

“Of course,” I said, brushing a tear from his cheek.

He smiled sadly. “Can you ever love me?”

That was a question I couldn’t answer. “I appreciate you and am so glad we’ve cleared the air…” I trailed off. Could I love Griffin? There was a moment in time when I believed I did love him. But then I’d met Cage. Kind, gorgeous, knows-his-way-around-my-body, and is totally faithful Cage.

“I’m with someone,” I said, leaning down and kissing his cheek.

“The lawyer,” Griffin said, looking away.

I shook my head and smiled unable to help the slight blush that crept into my cheeks. “Yes, the lawyer. Cage.”

Griffin sighed. His body tensed and then began to shake as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Griffin. What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer.

“Help,” I shouted. The machines attached to his arm began to beep rapidly.

Several nurses and a doctor ran into the room. “You need to leave,” one of them shouted.

I moved to the side, out of the way, watching while they worked on Griffin.

“We’re losing him,” the young male doctor growled, his gaze falling briefly on me before refocusing his attention on Griffin.

“No,” I cried. “Please no.”

“Come on. You need to leave.” A nurse with short black hair, brown skin, and big brown eyes forcefully escorted me from the room.

I found my way to the waiting area, grabbed a Styrofoam cup, filled it with hot water and took a bag of tea before sitting down.

Hours later the same nurse returned. “Mr. Maxwell’s brain was swollen and there’s too much fluid surrounding it. He’s been taken into surgery.”

“Is he going to be all right?” I asked, standing because I was tired of sitting.

The nurse glanced at the floor. “His chances are good,” she said, walking to the door and opening it. “But I won’t know more until he’s out of surgery.” She left and I went back to my seat.

Nearly two hours later, the nurse came back. “He’s out of surgery and the anesthesia is nearly worn off. You can see him if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” I said, following her out of the room and down the hall to Griffin’s room.

As soon as I opened the door, I regretted it. Griffin’s father stood near his son. He wore a navy suit, white shirt, and red tie. He seemed antsy, like he was in a hurry to be gone. At the sound of my entry, he turned and smirked. “Ah, I remember you. The girl from the restaurant, with the scarf.”

I nodded. He had to know I was more than that, but I didn’t correct him.

“He doesn’t love you. The boy can’t even comprehend the meaning. Doing so isn’t in his nature.” Griffin’s father came closer. “If you need—”

“Where am I?”

I glanced around Griffin’s father and saw that Griffin’s eyes were open. “Hey,” I said.

Griffin smirked. “Who are you?” he asked, glancing at his father. “Who’s the girl?”

Griffin’s father gave me an arrogant glare.

I turned away, lifting my chin. “I’m Katie. Katie Jayne.”

The doctor walked in. “You’re awake. Good.” He began checking Griffin’s vitals.

“What happened? Why am I here?” Griffin touched the top of his head. “What the fuck happened to my hair?”

“Hmmmm, it seems you may have some short term memory loss.”

“Can he be fixed?” Griffin’s father asked.

The doctor put the ends of the stethoscope to his ears and listened to Griffin’s heart. When he finished, he said, “As the swelling goes down he should regain his memories.”

The doctor glanced at me. “It takes time. Be patient and you’ll have your boyfriend back.” He smiled.

“I think you should leave,” Griffin’s father said.

“Yeah, send the bimbo out,” Griffin shouted. I sensed his stress and felt back for him.

I forced myself to remain calm. “I think you’re right.” I exited without saying goodbye. It was obvious my time in L.A. was over. Griffin didn’t even remember me.

CHAPTER 9

Katie

The fligh
t
home was difficult. I worried about Griffin. I thought about what Cage had said. That maybe Griffin being shot had something to do with Chloe trying to kill me.

According to the news the police hadn’t found a single lead in Griffin’s shooting. A spokesperson for Crushed Velvet had said that Griffin was in a coma and that their upcoming tour had been postponed until further notice.

The idea that Griffin had realized his dream and then had it stolen away so quickly was sad. I felt bad for him and the other members of his band, but I couldn’t do anymore. I wasn’t meant to be in his life any longer.

Goodbye, Griffin
, I thought, realizing my time with him was over. I’d had sex with a rock god and it’d been amazing, but it was nothing more than a fantasy. 

When the plane landed I thought about going to Cage’s. He’d said I was welcome to continue to stay there and I did feel comfortable in his apartment, but I needed to go home. I needed to face the demons there.

Climbing the steps in my brownstone took more effort than I remembered. Breathing heavily hurt the cut on my neck as well as my shoulder. When I reached my apartment door, I unlocked it and carefully went in. A pungent smell struck my nose. It was a combination of the sweat of too many men and possibly cleaning products.

I went to the kitchen, pushed open the window and lit a pomegranate-scented candle Birdy had picked up a couple of days before she was arrested. Then I popped a pain pill to ease the discomfort in my shoulder. Once I’d handled the nasty smell and my pain, I faced the living room. It was still a mess. Blood stained the area rug and the cloth-covered loveseat. The police hadn’t moved the chair Chloe had tied me up in and there was a pool of dried blood on the floor behind it. I guessed that was Chloe’s blood.

The whole scene made my stomach queasy. Part of me just wanted to leave. I wasn’t ready. Instead I decided to ignore it and went into my bedroom. It looked just the same, but somehow felt completely different.

I wiped at the renegade tears sneaking down my face. “Fuck,” I whispered, falling onto my bed.

My phone beeped, jerking me out of my wallowing. I took it from my pocket. It was a text from Cage.

Are you back?

I smiled.
Yes.

Doing anything fun?

Just stopped by my apartment. It’s-
I wasn’t sure what to say. I was sulking. Miserable. The rooms no longer felt like my home for a couple of reasons. It was silent as an empty grave without Birdy. I missed her and her upbeat personality. She livened up any room. The other reason was because of Chloe. She’d nearly killed me here. The remnants of that memory were still evident in the living room.

I have some news that might cheer you up.

That perked my interest.
Oh?

Mind if I come in?

I wiped my face and ran to the kitchen window, peering down at the street. Cage was standing near the curb, in front of his limousine holding his phone. He waved up at me.

I waved back. “Hi.” I spoke aloud even though it was doubtful he could hear me. I quickly got on my phone and texted one handed.
Come on up.

Cage tucked his phone in the front pocket of his gray suit pants and removed his matching jacket, setting it carefully in the limo. The man looked gorgeous, as usual. His black dress shirt molded his muscled torso perfectly.

I quickly ran to the bathroom. Splashed some water on my face and wiped at my smeared eyeliner, then ran a brush through my hair. With my shoulder in the sling it was all I could do.

When he knocked on the door I forced a smile as I opened it. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey, yourself. How’s my wounded tiger?” He pulled me into a careful hug.

I buried my face against his chest. He smelled so good and having his body against mine caused me to cry again. The pain meds had to be messing with my emotions. “It feels good to have you hold me.”

“Anytime, Dandelion.” He squeezed lightly. “I missed you,” Cage said against my hair.

I’d only been gone a couple of days, but I’d missed him too. Turning my face up, I opened my mouth, begging for him to kiss me. He complied, his tongue flicking the inside of my mouth. His breath tasted of his minty lifesavers.

“How about I get you out of those clothes?” He undid the button on my jeans and slid them down my thighs, pulling off my black patent leather shoes before removing my pants. Then he kissed my pussy and I moaned. I found his tie, loosened it and pulled his shirt from his pants.

“I want you naked, Mr. Devereux.”

He kicked off his shoes, removed his pants, underwear, tie and shirt in quick order. Then he helped me get naked. I took his hand and we went into my bedroom.

“Lie down, Cage. It’s my turn to help you relax.” I took his hardened cock in my hands, bent over and sucked on his tip.

Cage let out a long breath. “Fuck, you’ve got an amazing mouth, tiger.”

I took him all the way in my mouth until he was touching the back of my throat and sucked, stroking his balls until he was so huge he filled my mouth.

Cage panted, his hands grabbed hold of my hair. “Fuck, Dandelion. God that feels so good.”

I was glad he was enjoying himself, but the cut on my neck was hurting. Cage was tensing. I could feel his orgasm was close. I decided to continue, but Cage seemed to sense what was wrong.

He sat up. “My little tiger, you’re a champ, but it’s my turn. Lie down.”

I was grateful and did as he asked, spreading my legs for him. He kneeled in front of me and worked his magic on my pussy.

After several orgasms I moved to get off the bed. Cage rolled up over so that he was on his stomach. “I’m going to take a nap.”

I laughed and then thought of something. “Hey,” I smacked him on his bare ass. “What was the news you wanted to share before?” I picked up my bra and tried to put it on.

He pulled on his boxers and then his pants. “It’s Birdy.” He glanced at his watch. “She’s being released in about an hour.”

I squealed. Couldn’t help myself. “Oh my god. Are you serious?” As quick as I could manage I began pulling on my clothes. I needed something sharp, fashionable, something that would make Birdy proud to know me. I found navy panties and got them on as well as navy dress pants. I pulled on a white sports bra and a white button up shirt. The buttoning part was proving difficult. 

Cage came over and finished with the buttons, then tucked the ends into my pants. “Totally serious.” He smirked and quickly kissed me on the mouth.

“Well, let’s go,” I said picking up my bag and throwing it over my good shoulder. 

Cage laughed. “You need shoes.” He finished dressing and then helped me into a pair of navy Louis Vuitton ankle boots.

“Thanks. You’re quite handy,” I said, grabbing a scarf, wrapping it around my neck, and turning off my bedroom light as I followed him out.

“What about your hair?” he asked, touching a loose curl.

I sighed. “I guess I should brush it.” I went into the bathroom, turned on the light and picked up my brush.

“Let me help,” Cage said.

“Really?” I handed him the brush. “You think you’re going to do my hair?” I gave him a surprised look in the mirror.

“It won’t be anything fancy, but I’m confident I can handle it.” Cage carefully ran the bristles through my tangles. Then he pulled the front ends of my hair back, and secured them with a silver barrette.

“What do you think?” he asked, when I peered at myself in the mirror.

Shocked, I said, “You did good.” I turned and kissed him. “You’re amazing.” I straightened his tie. “In more ways than one.”

“So are you.” Cage took my hand and walked me to the front door. “Let’s go get Birdy.”