Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1) (27 page)

BOOK: Wine and Whiskey (Surviving Absolution #1)
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“Yes, do what you need to do. I’ll be
fine.”

 

* * * *

 

After the door closes, Shae wraps her
fingers around Nick’s hand and caresses his relaxed face. He fills almost the
entire bed. His muscular arms lie at his sides with an IV drip attached to the
back of his right wrist. It would infuriate him to know he’s so weak and
vulnerable. “Max said this isn’t my fault. We both know that’s not true. I’ve
caused you nothing but problems since we met.”

If he was awake, he would protest her
conclusion and try to convince her otherwise. She lifts his hand and presses it
against her cheek. “The worst part is, through it all, I’ve been too scared to
tell you how much I love you. I thought I was keeping you from getting hurt,
but that’s exactly what I was doing. And, maybe if I had told you how I feel,
you would have remembered me last night and not…”

She swallows down the sob bubbling in her
throat and pushes away the memory of Nick dragging her to the floor by her
wrists. No. The only thing that matters is him knowing the truth.

Until now, he’s only shown her love with
nothing from her in return. He deserves better. He’s going to know how much she
loves him. She’ll wear his ring and set a date. And be happy. Make him happy.

Giddiness overtakes her, and she smiles
to herself. They’ll have a beautiful wedding. With a huge cake. Maybe a double
ceremony with Carrie. She laughs out loud.
What am I, twelve?

“I wasn’t expecting to find you laughing
in Nick’s hospital room.”

Carrie!
She jumps out of her chair and runs to her. Unexpected
tears roll down her face. She wants to share her happiness with her best friend,
but somehow sadness takes over.
Why did he hurt me?

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Everything’s
going’s to be okay.”

Her best friend holds her until the
heaves subside. Carrie steps back and cups her face, her own lined with worry.
“You’re exhausted. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep? I’ll stay with
Nick.”

Shae shakes her head. Carrie doesn’t
understand. There’s too much she has to tell him. “I can’t. I have to be here
when he wakes up. I have to tell him I love him and make everything okay. He has
to know he deserves love, and I—”

“Whoa, friend. You’ve both been through a
lot. I think you need to slow down.”

“But I love him.”

“I know. Give him a chance to be
conscious for a day or two before you overwhelm him with your proclamation.
Okay?”

She is tired. And scared. Maybe her love
isn’t enough. What if it’s too late?

Carrie plops down on the small sofa in
the corner of the room and pats the cushion next to her. Shae rests her head on
Carrie’s lap as her best friend strokes her hair. Anxiety releases from her
body at the gentle touch. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry we left in such a
hurry last night.”

“It’s okay. I know you needed to get back
to Nick.”

“Yeah, but I was too late.” She rolls up
the sleeve to Max’s coat and holds out her arm, purple and blue streaks
emerging on the reddened skin. “He hurt me when all I wanted to do was help
him.”

“I know.” Carrie’s voice cracks, and she
blows out a long breath. “I’m sorry. He’s going to be devastated when he finds
out what he did.”

“It was the drugs, not him. He didn’t
know what he was doing.”

“That won’t stop him from blaming
himself.”

She shudders at the truth of Carrie’s
words. Helping Nick overcome his guilt will take everything she has. And then,
there’s the other anger issue. “Did you talk to Nathan?”

“Yes.”

The flatness of her voice implies their
conversation wasn’t good. “He’s going to make you leave, isn’t he?”

“Rest your eyes. We’ll talk about it
later.”

 

* * * *

 

Unaware she drifted off, Shae blinks a
few times, uncertain where she is.

Marta’s smile squelches her rising panic
as she sits up. “Should say good morning, but is really afternoon.”

The hospital. She rubs her hand along
Max’s jacket before nodding. “Hi. When did you get here?”

“Hour ago. Jacks bring me.”

Marta’s news makes her smile. Maybe it’s
a sign of positive things to come. “I’m glad he’s feeling better.”

“Yes. Nick get better and then all is
good.”

“I agree.” She looks around the room,
empty except for Nick asleep in the same position as before. His skin feels
warm against her hand as she strokes his cheek. “Where’s Carrie?”

“She with Nathan on break.” Marta holds
up a small, red suitcase. “She get you change of clothes.”

Pressing down her wrinkled dress, Shae
nods her head. “I can use it. A shower too.”

After accepting the bag from Marta, she
sits next to the older woman, and covers her fingers with her own. “I’m sorry
about what happened between you and Nick. He wasn’t himself. I know he would
never hurt you on purpose.”

Marta stiffens, but doesn’t drop her
hand. “He say food no good. Never complain before.”

“He told me I looked like a slut, and he—”

“Well, he fired my ass.” Carter’s voice
from the doorway interrupts their conversation. “So, I guess I win.”

Shae smiles at him as he leans against
the frame, giving them a smirk. “I think you’re still gainfully employed. Nick
wouldn’t really fire his own cousin, would he?”

Carter shakes his head. “No one else
would want the job.” He holds up a cup of coffee. “I’m going to be here for a
while. Why don’t you go home and rest?”

Her smile fades. Nick’s drug-induced
wrath hurts them all. If Spencer’s surprises keep coming, it could destroy the
strange but loving family they’ve created. She picks up her bag. “Thanks. I
actually just woke up. I need to find a place to take a shower.”

The kind nurse outside Nick’s room
provides her with an unoccupied room. Grateful for hot water and a few minutes
of privacy, she bathes quickly.

“Shae?”

As she dresses, Max’s muffled voice come
through the closed door.

She flinches, pulling the long sleeves of
her cardigan over her arms, and steps out. “I’m finished. I was…” Cold chills
shudder through her body at his wide-eyed expression. “What’s the matter?”

“Nick’s awake, and he’s upset you aren’t
there. He thinks something’s wrong with you.”

Just like before. He thought she was
dead. Unable to distinguish reality from his dream, he freaked out when he
couldn’t find her. She can’t go through it again. “Is he himself?”

“Yes, he knows all of us. But he wants
you.”

He needs her, and she disappoints him
again. She runs down the hallway to his room with Max right behind her.
Overwhelmed with emotions squeezing her chest, she pauses at the door.

He tips his head down to hers. “I’ll stay
and make sure everything’s okay.”

She nods and pushes against the handle.
Nick sits on the side of the bed, his head drooped down and his hands on his
knees. He looks up at her, blinking with a drowsy gaze, and reaches for her.
“Come here, sweetness.”

The same hand that hurt her. The same
hand that makes her fear him. She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

 
 
 

Chapter Fourteen

 
 

“Don’t be afraid.” Nick extends his hand farther, enticing her
to come to him. His raspy voice is barely audible over her pounding heart.
“It’s okay. You won’t hurt me.”

I’m afraid you’ll hurt me.

An argument rages between her head and heart as to which Nick
sits in front of her. The one who probably loves her more than he loves
himself, or the one who hurt her more than anyone ever has. Either way, fear
doesn’t diminish her worry. “Are you in pain?”

He shakes his head, his eyes shutting for a few seconds before
he swallows. “No, just tired.”

His hospital gown lies wadded on the floor, exposing his broad
shoulders and chiseled torso as he sits on the side of the bed wearing only his
boxers. The ability to bench press more than three hundred pounds rendered
useless against the chemicals weakening his body and poisoning his mind.

He absentmindedly rubs his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Maybe a
little sore.”

Just like their first gym date. Massaging his muscles, strained
from Jason’s demanding workout, he humored her with the notion her favorite
planks were the cause of his tenderness. An immediate hero and protector to
her, he asked for nothing except her heart. Drawing her in like water to a
cactus, he quenched the loneliness she inflicted upon herself. Now, she’s
parched with fear.

“Then what are you doing up? You should get back into bed.”

“I needed to find you and make sure you were okay.”

No one but Nick would wake up in the hospital and have his first
thought be about her. His relentless concern never wavers, even as he fights
his own enemies. He seeks reassurance of her safety, unaware of the
precariousness of their relationship through his unintentional volition.

“You might have fallen.”

Groggy eyes zero in on hers. “I would have crawled if I had to.
You know I’d do whatever I have to do to be with you.”

Yes, she knows. She’s always known. The fear constricting her
heart loosens. This is her Nick. The man she can trust. She has no reason to
fear him.

As soon as she’s within reach, he grasps her waist and holds her
against him. He kisses her temple before tucking his head into her neck. “Thank
God you’re okay.”

Standing between his legs, she relaxes into his embrace,
welcoming his tender caress of her head. “I’m supposed to be saying that to
you. You’re the patient.”

“I don’t understand why. What happened to me?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Everything’s foggy. I came back from New York and then… I don’t
know.”

The days are gone from his memory. No idea what he’s said or
done to her. Or any of them. She glances at Max, whose nod is so slight she
wonders if she imagined it.

He lifts his head, frowning as he studies her face. “Did you
have to cut your trip short? Are you going back to New York?”

“No, I came back early this morning. It’s Sunday night.”

“Why can’t I remember?” His soft voice questions himself more
than her.

Max lets out a long sigh. He dreads telling Nick as much as she
does. “Nathan thinks you may have been drugged.”

“What the fuck?”

I’m fucking talking to you. Never fucking walk away when I’m
talking to you.

She steps backward, out of his reach. His body may be weak, but
his temper burns at full force.

“From the threats Spencer made to her, it looks like he laced
your whiskey.” Holding up his hands, Max keeps his voice steady as Nick’s face
flushes. “My guys have swept the office, house, and cars again, and they’ve
dumped anything that can be ingested just to be sure—food, drinks, toothpaste,
everything.”

Nick pushes himself up. “I’m going to fucking kill that bastard.”

“It’s taken care of. I’ve got all my available guys searching
for him and two PIs running down his background. You can’t do anything I’m not
already doing. We’ll find him, and then it’ll be over.”

Forget the police or a trial. They appoint themselves judge and
executioner in their lawless world. Spencer almost killed Nick, and now they’re
the ones who decide his fate. She shakes her head, unable to focus on that
right now. “You’re still really sick. Please don’t get out of bed.”

“She’s right. Let me handle it.”

Before Nick can respond, the door swings open, and Nathan
strides in with a nurse following behind him. “I heard you were awake…” Nathan
glances at the clothing on the floor before shaking his head. “And causing
trouble.”

Nick yanks at the taped gauze on the back of his hand. “I need
to get the fuck out of here.”

“You need to be examined.” Irritation tinges Nathan’s voice.
“You collapsed because of swelling on your brain. Don’t think you can just walk
out of here. You’re not invincible.”

The nurse puts her hand on top of Nick’s. “You’re going to hurt
yourself. Please let me help you.”

She reaches up and unhooks his IV bag and slides the sleeve of a
hospital-issued T-shirt over the tubing and up to Nick’s head. “I hate those
gowns too, so I thought you might find this more comfortable.”

His scowl softens at her kindness, and he allows her to help him
pull it over his head and down his body. “Thank you.”

She’s the United Nations of nursing, bringing neutrality to the
room and defusing the tension so they can focus on Nick’s health. Her yellow
scrubs and gentle smile create the desired calming effect. “You’re welcome.”
She turns to Shae and winks. “Now it’s time for you two to wait out in the hall
for a bit. Give me a chance to get this guy settled, so he can be examined and
get some rest.”

Nick sits down and reaches for her again. Shae squeezes his
outstretched hand. “I’ll be right outside the door. As soon as they’re done,
I’ll come back in.”

Max nods at him and guides her out of the room by her elbow. They
sit in the chairs facing the windowed door. His shoulder knocks against hers.
“Are you okay? You seemed a little shaken up earlier.”

Their bond over junk food now extends to the secret they keep
from Nick. Neither of them wants to be the one to devastate him with the truth.

“I hated being scared of him. It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know, but it’s going to take a while for everyone to get over
what happened. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

The nurse smiles at them, but keeps walking after she and Nathan
leave Nick’s room. Nathan stops in front of them. “Nick’s doing better than I
ever expected. There doesn’t seem to be any lasting side effects, except for
weakness, which should resolve itself in about a week.”

“Thank God, he’s going to be all right.” Her voice shakes as
much as her hands, but she has to know. “What about his mental state? He
remembers us and won’t…?”

“Yes, he should be back to his normal self.” Nathan gestures to
her. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Max’s mouth tightens before he walks inside Nick’s room, keeping
the door propped open, continuing to protect them even in his irritation.

Nathan rolls his eyes at Max’s back. “You’ve got to get away
from him, Shae. I know the attack was drug-induced, but it’s just another
instance of you being hurt from the fucked-up world he lives in.”

Heat flames her cheeks. Nick doesn’t deserve their blame. “It’s
not his fault.”

“What if he had really injured you? Or, worse yet, what if you
had been drugged? It could have killed you.”

Her small circle of friends reduces to one. She’s lost Jason and
now Nathan, who barely tolerated Nick to begin with. No amount of defending him
can change Nathan’s mind. She shakes her head. “I can’t do this now. I have to
get back to him.”

“What if it had been Carrie?”

She pauses at the door, the ache in her chest growing. She had
been trying not to think about what could have happened. There’s no argument
she can offer. Carrie could just as easily have been the victim of Nick’s fury.
“I don’t—”

“It’s over. She’s moving out. I can’t take her living in his
house anymore. It’s been one thing after another, and no one can seem to stop
it.”

She refuses to come between her best friend and the man she
loves. A good person like Nathan, who only wants what’s best for his fiancée.
“Okay. I understand.”

“Come with her. She’s going to stay at her parents’ until the
wedding, and Sheila said you’re welcome too.” He nods toward the men standing
near the door before lowering his voice. “We’ll hire our own security until all
of this dies down. Maybe Eugene can come until everything’s back to normal.”

“I can’t walk away from him. He needs me.” Her voice drops to a
whisper. “And I love him.”

“Fine. You have to live with your own decisions, but leave
Carrie out of it. I don’t want her over there or anywhere near him. You see her
alone or not at all.”

Carrie would be furious to know he’s barking orders and issuing
ultimatums on her behalf. But, she’ll never know, at least not from Shae.
Telling her would only drive deeper wedges between all of them. “Where is she
now?”

“She went to get her stuff. I couldn’t help her since I’m
working, so Jason’s with her.” He glances at his buzzing phone. “I have to get
back downstairs. Think about what I said. We can help you get away from him.”

“It’s not like that. I don’t need an escape plan. I’m with him
because I want to be.”

He rolls his eyes again before walking away, his head still
shaking as he turns the corner.

She takes a deep breath and walks into Nick’s room. He and Max
talk in low voices, stopping as she enters.

Max pats her on the head. “Hand off. I’ve got to take care of
something. It’s your turn to put up with, I mean take care of, the patient.”

“Thanks. I’ll do my best.”

Nick lies back against the elevated bed. “Come here.”

She sits in the chair next to him and tucks his hand between
hers. Dark circles frame his closed eyes. The mental and physical strain of the
last hour drives him to exhaustion again, although he would never admit it.

His fingertips tap the mattress. “No, here, with me.”

No questions linger regarding his personality. His request
confirms his absolute return to his old self. Uncertain if she can say the same
about herself, she hesitates. “I can’t. What would people think about me being
in your hospital bed?”

“I don’t give a damn. I need you with me.”

Between him and Carrie, she needs comforting just as much.
Disregarding her doubt, as well as all the rules of proper decorum and modesty,
she climbs under the covers and curls into the crook of his arm. The kiss on
her forehead welcomes her home. “I love you, Shae.” His breathing slows as she
snuggles in and closes her eyes.

 

* * * *

 

Her flowery scent lingers on his shirt, but a chill settles in
the bed without her pressed against him. “Shae?”

Her head peeks out of the bathroom, a mint-tinged foamy smile
greeting him. “I’m here. Give me a second.”

Damn, she’s adorable.
He crosses his arms behind his head, attempting to ignore the
persistent anxiety circling all his thoughts of her. She seems in good spirits
considering everything that's happened, yet something uncertain hovers under
the surface. The gurgle of water dissipates, and after a few seconds, she walks
into the room.

“Good morning.”

“It is now. You know I don’t like waking up and finding you gone
from my bed.”

She giggles as she climbs in next to him. “I wanted to freshen
up a bit. Not as good as a shower, but always better to have a clean dress and
panties.”

Jesus Christ
.
The thought of her in
those silky bikinis she wears makes his groin twitch. She cuddles against him,
oblivious to the heat surging through him.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better. Like myself again.”

“I’m glad to have you back.”

The strange sensation of losing time couples with the unsettling
feeling something’s off between them. As if they’ve been apart for weeks, even
though it’s only been a few days. “I’ll be glad to get out of this bed and back
into ours. I’ve missed you.”

She puts her hands on his chest, worry frowning her forehead and
lips. “Please don’t rush it. You need to take care of yourself. You’ve been
through a lot, and it takes time to get better.”

He leans down and kisses across her jaw line before grazing her
ear lobe, tasting her sweet essence. “Will you be my nurse? Take care of my
every need? Give me a sponge bath?”

Her head falls back, giving him access to her neck, a soft moan
radiating under his lips. “Now I know you’re feeling better.”

An exaggerated throat-clearing from the doorway interrupts their
discussion. “If you flip that lever under the bar, it elevates the bottom half
of the bed, which is great for when you do it—”

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