17. Riley
seventeen
Riley
T hrough the grace of caffeine, I made it home safely.
As soon as I parked in my space in the covered parking, I immediately messaged Jackson to let him know I was home safely. His reply came as soon as I stepped out of the elevator towards my condo.
He sent a heart emoji and a promise to call as soon as he was done settling the horses. With a yawn, I let myself into my condo and headed straight for the shower. After sleeping late at the hotel, I jammed all my things into my suitcase and left without showering, choosing to hit a takeout window and head straight home.
I don’t smell like sex, but my suitcase sure does. Jackson left his boxers behind and maybe it’s obsessive, but I wrapped them in my dirty laundry and brought them home to wash. Never being one to handwash delicates, I dropped them in with my lace boy-shorts and favourite T-shirt on a gentle cycle in the washing machine.
I don’t know why, really, but seeing his underwear mixed up with mine in a washing machine at my home causes all kinds of weird emotions.
“Get a grip, Riley. It’s underwear, not a wedding ring.”
Closing the lid of the washer, I turn on the shower and walk in. Of course, my mind can’t stop replaying everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours. I know I made the right decision about letting Jackson in, but I’m a little overwhelmed.
Sure, I knew he was a romantic. He’s shown me plenty of times since we’ve met, but I wasn’t prepared for how much. Or how vulnerable he felt with me because of my escort background. I’d never fully considered that might be an issue for him.
My body shivers, remembering how he reacted when he saw it was me being cornered in the bar. Shock followed immediately by a softness, then pure rage as he took on the brute who felt I owed him something because he paid for my services in the past.
I’ve never been rescued because I always—always—took care of myself. Now that I’m home, the possible what-if scenarios race through my mind because I’ve become complacent. I left the city and no longer looked over my shoulder or told people where I was going and who I was with. No more emergency call plans and check-ins. I’d let all the personal safety go because here in Kissing Ridge, I felt safe. It’s my home.
But what if Jackson hadn’t seen me?
Shutting off the shower, I towel myself dry and for the first time in twenty-four hours, I no longer feel confident about being involved with Jackson. If he’d been hurt because of me, I’d never forgive myself.
Slipping into my most comfortable pyjamas, even though it’s barely 3 P.M., I call my best friend.
“Hey, doll.” Gabe’s voice answers with the sound of traffic in the background. “I hope you’re calling to tell me all the good things. How did it go?”
“You sound chipper. Did you finally get out of the office at a decent time? ”
“I did. But before you deflect and ask about me, what happened?”
“Everything, Gabe. Fucking everything.” My voice wavers and I clear my throat. “I went there and found him. I watched him at the rodeo first, then overheard a few women talking about where the cowboys go after.”
“Did he know you were there?”
“The smart thing to do would have been to give him a heads up on that. He didn’t know until he saw me being harassed in the bar by a former client.”
Gabe growls and I know he’s clenched a fist as he listens.
“Jesus, Riley. Are you okay? Do I need to get involved? Tell me the whole damn story right now.”
So I do. I tell him how determined I was to watch Jackson in the ring and how I wanted to be romantic and surprise him at the bar that I was confident he would be in.
“But I wasn’t counting on some drunk asshole recognizing me and harassing me. You know the type. Just give me a freebie, baby, and I’ll leave you alone. I was stupid. If Jackson hadn’t seen me…”
I trail off as Gabe’s angry growl sounds over the line.
“If the bar has a security camera, I can track him down, Rye. Just say the word.”
“No. It’s a reminder that I need to be more careful about the people I let into my life. This kind of confrontation is rare but not nonexistent.”
“How did Jackson take it?”
“Perfect, Gabe. He was amazing. He took a punch and threw one back, then grabbed me and we ran. And then I finally kissed him. ”
“Ah, see. I can hear how your voice changed, Riley. You don’t regret it, do you?”
Not in a million years could I ever regret a moment of last night with Jackson. Even if he woke up this morning and said he couldn’t do it. I’d hold the memory of last night in my heart forever.
“No. To be the object of Jackson’s affection is…unreal. But I never thought about him jumping into a fight like that. What if he got hurt because of me?”
“He throws himself on top of moving cattle. I don’t think he’s afraid of getting hurt, Riley. What other excuses do you have? Tell me. I’ll rip them all apart for you with a smile on my face.”
“He told me he was nervous, that he’d not measure up with my experience. He’s incredibly sweet, Gabe, and I really fucking like him. So much, but…”
“Riley, listen to me. Don’t go there. He likes you. He shared his fears with you, and without sharing intimate details, I know you set him at ease. Stop with the what-ifs and excuses and just enjoy having a man who loves every part of you. Unconditionally, it sounds like.”
“Why am I like this?” I laugh without humour. “I think I want to believe he’s the one so badly that I’m missing something important.”
“The only thing you’re missing is allowing yourself to believe it’s real, Riley. We’ve been over this. Chase had a great story. You didn’t miss anything, he was just good at acting. Jackson lives in the public eye and the whole town can vouch for him. There isn’t a single reason to believe you’re missing something.”
My phone beeps with an incoming call .
“Thanks for being a great friend, Gabe. I mean it, but I’ve got a call coming that I need to take. I’ll talk to you later.”
Gabe chuckles. “I know you’re dumping me for the hot cowboy. We’ll chat later.”
Without looking at the display, I accept the call with a smile.
“Hi. Sorry. I was just chatting with Gabe, and before I lose my nerve, I wanted to tell you I know I’m a lot sometimes, and I’m sorry for what happened at the bar. Just be patient with me.”
Silence. “Uh, is this Riley Benton?”
Shit. That’s not Jackson.
“I’m sorry. Yes, it is. I didn’t look at the display. How can I help you?”
“This is Dr. Morgan at the Kissing Ridge General Hospital. Your Aunt Agnes has you listed as next of kin, and we need you to come as soon as possible.”
My guts drop to the floor. “Is she okay? What happened?”
“She’s stable, but I’d like to speak to you in person.”
“I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”
“I’ll still be here. Just ask reception to direct you to the surgical waiting area.”
“Thank you. I’m on my way.”
Oh god. Aunt Agnes, what have you done?
Please be okay. Please be okay.
Without changing my clothes, I slide my feet into my sneakers, grab my phone and wallet, and take the stairs in record time down to the car.
The entire drive to the hospital feels like I’m in a movie. Like it’s not really happening to me. We just had a Scrabble night last week, and we had our usual noon-day call. I told her I was going to see Jackson. She was fine!
My hands shake as I place the car in park in the hospital visitor’s lot. The doctor just said surgery. He didn’t say she was unconscious or anything.
Think positive, Riley!
Finally inside, I ask for directions to the surgical waiting area, and after making a wrong turn to a dead end, I retrace my steps and notice the giant red sign pointing to the surgical waiting room.
“May I help you?”
“Ah, Dr. Morgan is expecting me. Riley Benton.”
“Oh, yes. Right this way.”
She leads me down a corridor filled with hospital rooms and stops outside of Room 8. After knocking, she pokes her head in. “Riley is here. Can I let him in?”
My aunt’s voice is faint, but it lifts some of the unease. “As long as he doesn’t make a fuss.”
The nurse steps aside, and I enter the room. The man, who I assume is Dr. Morgan, leans against the wall with his arms crossed and a fond smile on his face as he watches my aunt. My aunt, who looks like she stepped into a boxing ring with the reigning heavyweight champion.
“Auntie. Oh god…what happened?”
“I told you not to fuss.”
“I’m not.”
Aunt Agnes’s face is swollen and purple. Her left eye is so swollen it looks like a failed attempt at a wink. A temporary cast secures her left arm, and a urine collection bag sticks out from under the covers. My gaze finds Dr. Morgan as he smiles and pulls up a chair next to me.
“Your aunt is quite stubborn.”
“Pfft. Tell me about it.”
“Don’t forget who raised you, kiddo.”
Despite the slur to her words, she’s still sharp, but I glance back at the doctor. “Is she on pain pills?”
“Oh, yes. As much as I can give her for the next few hours. But she has a long road of healing ahead of her.”
“Tell me what happened first.”
“I fell. Boom. My face stopped the fall.”
Aunt Agnes tries to laugh but groans softly and tears prick my eyes.
“Not fucking funny, Auntie.”
“She tripped outside on the sidewalk. A neighbour saw and helped her. They called an ambulance because she was unconscious. She likely has a mild concussion, but I’m more concerned about the broken bones.”
“As in, more than one bone is broken?”
Dr. Morgan nods. “Her left arm has a compound fracture that we’ll need to set properly, but the worst is her hip. She needs a hip replacement. How long has she been having mobility issues?”
“Um, a few years now. She’s been asking for one every time I take her to the doctor, but she keeps getting turned away by the specialist.” A snore sounds from Aunt Agnes. I guess she finally let the pain pills take over. “How serious is all this? Will she make it through the surgery?”
“There’s a risk with any procedure and anesthetic. My biggest concern is the concussion right now. We can keep her comfortable for a few days and monitor that before surgery, but three days max before we take her to the OR. The longer we wait, the greater the possibility for infection to set in. She might have a urine infection as well.”
“I just talked to her. We talk every day, actually. She was fine. She never complained.” Swallowing hard, I take in my now dozing aunt’s frail body. Maybe I chose not to see it because she’s all I have left. “What are the odds of complications with this?”
“There are some because of the time we need to wait. It increases with her age. Her heart is strong and her lungs sound good. I can’t give you any definite numbers, but it’s a risk she needs to take. We’ll make it as safe as we can.”
“And after? What sort of care will she need?”
“She’ll need to stay in a rehab facility for as long as needed until we’re satisfied she can be mobile safely on her own. Once she returns home, it would be wise to make sure she has no stairs and an accessible bathroom and that sort of thing. Hip replacement patients are usually fine on their own once at home.”
Dr. Morgan stands and places the chair back. “Do you have any more questions for me?”
“When do you hope to do the surgery?”
“Tuesday afternoon. We’ll assess every day and keep her comfortable, but I don’t want to wait longer than that. I’ll be here between 7-8 A.M. each morning if you’d like to be here for an update each day.”
“Thank you. I’ll be here.”
Dr. Morgan sees himself out and I adjust to take my aunt’s other hand gently in mine. “You’ll be okay, Auntie. There’s no other option here, okay? You need to meet Jackson. I haven’t told you how it went yesterday, so you better wake up tomorrow so I can tell you.”
It’s not until my bladder forces me out of the chair that I notice I’ve been sitting here watching my aunt sleep for three hours. When I exit the bathroom, a nurse is checking her vitals and smiles my way.
“You’re more than welcome to stay, but I think she’ll be doing a lot of sleeping.”
“Is she okay?”
“Everything is as okay as it can be. We’ll give her more pain meds as needed and keep her comfortable.”
I want to stay by her side so she’s not alone, but I also know I have a crap load of stuff to organize to prepare for her to come home. Contractors and plumbers are needed, and I’ll clear some of my schedule to help. I should probably answer all the emails I put off yesterday as well.
It’s a lot and overwhelming.
“Thank you. Can I leave you my number in case anything changes overnight?”
“Of course you can. And call the nurses’ station, too. We can update you over the phone if you’re worried, but right now, she’s okay.”
Lingering a little longer, I kiss my aunt on the forehead and return home.