Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DEAN
J uliette rustles, turning onto her side in the bed. It’s six a.m., but I haven’t even closed my eyes. I could blame the fear tainting my soul—the little voice that asks what will happen if she never wakes up again. But if I’m honest, after that kiss? I just couldn’t.
For the last six years, I’ve dreamed of that moment. But reality was so much different than I could’ve imagined. Not only because it was in a hospital while she can’t remember that she despises my guts right now, but it also unlocked something inside me. I missed her before, craved her. I drove myself into the ground trying to find her. But this is… different. Kissing her amplified everything.
I’m lucky we’re in a hospital. It may have been the only real reason I had to hold back. Because I know that if I had pushed or asked, she’d have given me everything. That’s how she was back then—starry-eyed and hanging onto my every word. Sick to say, but I missed this side of her. I love when she looks at me like that. It makes me feel invincible.
But I can’t and won’t hurt her. Not anymore. The old me wouldn’t have stopped with one kiss. I was a selfish and demanding bastard. Admitting the truth to myself stings like hell. But I can only be grateful that I know better now.
Though it’s hard to be grateful to know something that came with so much suffering. No one ever said knowledge could be painful. Every single day without Juliette? Torture. All so I could learn something.
This beautiful angel—she’s too good for me. Too sweet for me. Before, I took her for granted, held onto her blind loyalty like a drug. It was my only reassurance that she wouldn’t leave. That she wouldn’t give up on me. Abandon me.
I had blinders on. Couldn’t see that the exact thing I was trying to avoid was happening right under my nose. Only it wasn’t her. It was me who was giving up. I was the one abandoning her, not the other way around.
My head falls to my hands as I lay my elbows on my knees. I’m pathetic. I’ve been drinking myself to death for the last six years, killing myself over the fact that she loved someone else. That she left me for someone else. But it was just an illusion, born from my own trauma. I saw what I wanted to see. How fucked up is that? Who chooses to put themselves through so much purgatory to avoid a conversation? To avoid vulnerability?
A little bitch, that’s who. My grandfather seriously needs to punch me again. Just for that. I deserve it. That’s more than true.
It hurts. It stings to know what I’ve done to us both. How I’ve decimated all that we were. But that doesn’t mean we can’t build something new. And that’s what I have to hang onto—the future.
I’ll admit, this will be much easier with Arnie out of the picture. Honestly, sans my girl getting hurt, that worked out in my favor. He took the trash out himself, and I thanked him by smashing his bones with my fists.
But by no means will this be easy. Gaining my son’s trust will be hard. Getting Juliette’s will be even harder. The rift between us is big. It’s going to take a long time to build it back up again, and even when we do, it won’t be the same. Not quite.
My eyes move toward the window on the door as a police officer walks by. I’m sure he’s going to Arnie’s room. Time for a change of guard. I wonder if I could get in there. Are they trying to keep him in or others out? Wonder if they’d take a bribe. That’s how it’s done in Vegas.
Declan supposedly has reach here too. I think it’s mostly in Dublin, though. Throwing his name around might not be enough. Might be worth a try, just to get ten more minutes with Arnie. I want to finish what I started. He needs to know how it feels to be beaten. How it feels to be diminished and belittled like what he did to Juliette. He needs to know how she felt exactly. Then, he needs to die. And I’m just the man for the job.
There’s a quick knock on the door before it opens. Juliette’s mom pushes into the room, her eyes widening when she sees me.
“Dean?” she asks, her face furrowed, like she can’t believe I’m real. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, Juliette is here,” I reply.
What else is there to say?
“Why are you in Ireland at all?”
I turn my head from her. “Your son sent me here. He kicked me out.”
“Oh no,” she replies, her sharp green eyes narrowing on me. “Why?”
“I may or may not have set a Colombian drug lord’s security shack on fire.”
“Wow. That is a mouthful.”
Francine sighs, starting to place her bags on the couch next to the chair I’m occupying. It looks like she packed for a month's stay. Her jacket is the last to go.
“Declan did say something about you going on a bender.”
“I wasn’t drunk. Not when I set the shack on fire, at least. I was just so excited that I had found her.” I chuckle at the memory now.
How ridiculous. I thought I was saving her or some shit. She was never there to begin with. I’m guessing she’s done something in the hacking department. Something to bounce her signal.
“Her? Who are we talking about?” I point at her daughter.
“I knew it,” she says before gasping. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“It might be—might be my fault Declan sent you home.”
That gets my full attention. I look at her. “How so?”
“I had a theory that all the drinking, the trips had to do with her. Declan never wanted to listen to me, though. I did tell him to send you home a few weeks ago, before you left for Colombia.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t take it anymore. Watching you mope around in Vegas and her mope here. It was ridiculous, and the two of you were hopeless.”
“Well, thank you for that,” I reply. “Turned out to be exactly what I was missing.”
“Yeah, but I never saw it going like this.”
“Tell me about it.”
What happened last night was so unexpected. I’ll never forget the sound of her scream or seeing her bleed from the side of her head. Seeing someone else put their hands on her. It was too much. Just the memory is enough to strike fear.
I came so close to losing her last night. Again, and this time it would be for good. She would die thinking I didn’t love her. That’s not an option. So from this point forward, I’m not holding back. She’s going to know I love her. She’s also never leaving my sight again.
“Have you heard from Jamie?”
“He called an hour ago. Arnie will be charged with domestic violence. It’ll go to court, I guess.”
“We’ll see,” Francine says.
I glance at her. An understanding passes between us. We’re both out for blood.
“Where is PJ?”
“Warren took him home around eleven so he could sleep.”
“How was he?”
“He’s upset. He doesn’t understand.”
She sighs, looking at Juliette. “I don’t think any of us do.”
A nurse opens the door and flips the lights on. She gives Francine a warm smile but me a sour look. Bet she’s still pissed that I yelled at her for making the blood pressure cuff too tight yesterday.
She gently wakes Juliette to check her over once more. Francine and I stay quiet. Juliette lays back and closes her eyes again, checking out as the nurse does what she needs to do.
“The doctor thinks you’ll be good to go home today, sweetheart.”
“So soon?” I ask.
We don’t even know if she has her memories back yet.
“Yes.” Her tone deadpans, like she’d rather do anything but talk to me. “There’s no sign of real brain damage. The doctor is confident she will make a full recovery. But he is recommending she go to a therapist to deal with what may come.”
“I already have one,” Juliette says.
Her voice is so small. I barely catch it.
“Good. Then, you should be all set. Let the doctor see you one more time, and then he can decide.”
“Okay,” Francine adds. “Thank you.”
Juliette’s head spins toward her voice.
“Mom,” she says, her voice cracking. “You’re here.”
Francine goes straight to the side of her bed. “I got here as quick as I could.”
Juliette grabs her hand. I wonder how long it’s been since the two of them have seen each other. I’m not one to keep up with Francine’s schedule, so I have no idea if she frequents Ireland or not.
“Did they tell you I have a child ?”
Her mother chuckles. “No memories yet?”
“What?” Juliette asks.
Francine shifts her green eyes toward me. I don’t know whether to be elated that she doesn’t have them back yet or to be upset she can’t remember a thing.
“Nothing, honey. How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts.”
The pout coloring Juliette’s lips is adorable. She looks at me, those striking eyes roaming up and down my seated body. Elated. Definitely elated she doesn’t have her memories back. Whatever it takes to keep her looking at me just like that.
“Can I do anything for you?” I ask.
My voice is rusty from not being used for the last several hours.
“I’m hungry.”
“The cafeteria probably isn’t open yet. But I can get you something from the vending machine.”
Warren and PJ took everything else I bought already, or I’d just offer her that.
“Can I have candy?”
Her excited question reminds me so much of our son. He asked the same damn thing last night, didn’t he? It’s nice to see Juliette like this—unburdened by the world. Unbroken by me. I have to keep reminding myself it isn’t real.
But the doctor did say that her brain reverted back to a place and time she felt safe. Apparently, the last time that was when she was with me. So while all of this isn’t real, and I know we’ve got issues to work out, now I know for sure she still loves me. That she still wants me.
Before I can answer her question, there’s another knock at the door. This is why I hate hospitals. They never have any privacy.
“Good morning, Miss Gray.”
Juliette scrunches her face at the doctor. I think it’s at the last name, but she’s the one who picked it. She just can’t remember that right now.
“Morning,” she mutters.
The sun has barely risen in the sky, but seven a.m. in a hospital might as well be five o’clock traffic for how busy it is.
“The nurse said you’ve got a headache? Are you having pain anywhere else?”
“Ribs are sore.”
“That’s to be expected. Nothing else?”
Juliette shakes her head a little too hard, based on the groan that follows it.
“You can go home today,” the doctor says. “But I want you to rest. If your memories are still missing after a week, I want you to come back in for an examination.”
“That’s it?”
I’m not trying to be an asshole, nor am I trying to keep my girl locked up here. But I am trying to make sure she’s okay, she’s good.
The doctor’s weathered face relaxes. “Your wife will be fine, sir.”
Fuck. My wife. That sounds so damn good. All my biggest fantasies wrapped into one. Juliette sucks in a deep breath. The two of us look at each other. Her cheeks are tinged pink—a flush I know goes all the way to her chest when she’s turned on.
“We’re not married,” she tells the doctor.
And I don’t like that. Not one little morsel of those words.
“We’re not married yet is what she means.”
“Like I said,” Francine looks right at me. “Ridiculous.”
I crack a smile at her. Would it be wrong if I got a marriage license now, before she remembers what happened to us? Probably. If I can’t take her body now, I shouldn’t change her last name yet either. But what if that’s what she wants? Because by the dreamy look on her face, she’s already in the planning stages. Right where I want her.
The doctor finishes talking to her. He gives her some papers and says we’re free to go. As he leaves, Juliette gives me a shy look, and I know it’s my cue to leave so she can change.
“I’ll pull the truck around.”
“We’ll meet you there,” Francine tells me.
Looking back at Juliette one more time, I catch her staring at my ass. It makes me feel like I’m on top of the world, even though my life is really in shambles. Juliette makes it easy to forget all of that.
I slip out of the door and trudge downstairs to the parking garage. I’m grateful my cousins left me their truck last night. My grandfather took everyone home after he got out of the police station. He would’ve left me his sports car, but I don’t imagine it would’ve been very comfortable for Juliette.
Just as I’m pulling up to the front door of the hospital, Juliette and her mom walk out. Francine is holding Juliette’s arm. I jump out, leaving the door open, and rush to open the passenger door for her. She whines as she climbs into the truck.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Juliette replies. “Just sore.”
“And hungry,” I tack on. “Want to grab something on the way or something at home?”
She looks back at her mom, who is standing behind me.
“Will you make me an omelet?”
“I’ll make you anything you want,” Francine replies.
“Home then,” Juliette tells me. “Please.”
I lean over her to buckle her seat belt. “Whatever you want, baby.”
Our faces are inches from each other. From here, I can see the faint freckles dusted on her cheeks.
“Gorgeous,” I whisper. “I’ve missed you.”
She giggles. “I don’t know why; I’ve been right here beside you.”
I wish she had. I really do. Landing a kiss on her forehead, I shuffle backward and grab the door for her mother.
“Where are all the bags?” I ask. “Didn’t you have a lot?”
“Yes, Leland and Kane will bring them down for me.”
“Kane is here?”
My face furrows. Kane is in charge of security for the McBride house. He’s different from Declan’s security guards, but he’s not usually one to travel along. He leaves that to Declan’s men.
“Declan insisted that I take extra security, mainly because Leland is a new recruit.”
“Declan knows?”
“Of course not. He thinks I’m here to visit some friends.”
“Good.”
Declan being down here would just add to the chaos, especially if he saw Warren. I push her door shut and jog to the driver’s side. It doesn’t take us long to get to Juliette’s street. But the moment I turn down it, I know something is wrong. Very wrong.
Thick, black smoke is spilling out all over the street. The closer I get to Juliette’s house, the more fear I feel. Is PJ okay? What’s going on? Did someone leave a stove on? Maybe none of this has to do with my family at all. I hope it doesn’t.
But when I see the ambulances blocking Juliette’s driveway and flames ripping apart her home, that hope vanishes.