Chapter 4
“Why does she get to walk back in as if she didn’t leave and ruin everything?” Jasmine mutters, hands planted on her hips as she stares me down.
I glare at her. After two years, she still acts like Chief belongs to her and her alone.
She’s every bit as striking as I remember—blonde hair, blue eyes, long legs, and a killer figure.
But right now, I’m too furious to admire her looks.
She is staring at me like she wishes I would turn around, leave, and get hit by a car on my way out.
I wasn’t the one who made the mistakes, so I’m sure as hell not going to come back and have her attack me like some sort of hero.
“Don’t start,” Chief says to her, his eyes narrowed. “That’s my daughter, too. She did nothing wrong, nor did she ruin anything. This is her home and she can come back to it whenever the fuck she wants to.”
“Of course you would say that. She’s your first, the precious one, way to make it obvious that you love her more than me,” she mutters, crossing her arms.
“Don’t start with that fuckin’ bullshit,” he growls back. “I don’t have the patience for it, and you know it.”
“Whatever. I’m going out.” She snatches her car keys and storms off. I watch her stomp into the yard, muttering bitch under her breath. Moments later, I hear a crunch—her car slams into mine.
Oh no she fucking didn’t.
I turn and run outside. She stands outside her car, staring at mine, her eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident.”
“Are you serious?” I hiss, inspecting the dent. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I didn’t ask you to come back and ruin things between Chief and me.”
That’s it.
I step forward so angrily, she shrinks away.
Chief is outside now, but he knows better than to get in my way when I am in this kind of mood.
“I didn’t ask for you to pop up and destroy things two years ago either.
But you can’t get rid of me—I’m his daughter too.
And if you break something else of mine, I’ll break that pretty nose. ”
“I’m sure daddy will pay for the repairs,” she murmurs. “Unless your half-dead ex-boyfriend is willing to....”
I lunge—but Chief’s hand clamps on my wrist and hurls me back.
“That’s enough!” he barks. “Jasmine, you’re paying for that car. Violet, walk away.”
I shrug free, yank my keys from my pocket. “I need space.”
“Where are you going now?” Chief calls after me as I go over to my banged-up car. “I need to make sure that car is safe.”
“I’ll call you if anything falls off,” I mutter, swinging the door open.
He rubs a hand down his face. “Just...take five, kid. Then come back.”
I don’t answer. I jump into my car. Jasmine watches me go, smirking.
I wrestle the car into drive and floor the accelerator.
I need someone who understands. I call Reagan on the way to the hotel she is staying at, the hotel I should be staying at too, but thought it would be a good idea to try and stay with Chief.
It wasn’t. Reagan has been my rock since the fire that put Travis in the hospital.
I literally could not do life without her.
I pull into the hotel parking lot, and get out of my car, trying not to look at the damage.
It isn’t that bad, but I am not exactly rolling in money to fix it either, and I can’t see Jasmine having much to give.
I reach the hotel room door just as it swings open and Reagan is there.
I told her I was on my way, and I knew she would be waiting.
“Tell me,” she says, hands on my shoulders. “Are we committing murder, or making it look like an accident?”
I laugh. “I haven’t decided yet. Seriously, though, I thought things in my life were finally on track and now it feels like it’s falling apart.”
She purses her lips. “Come in.”
I follow her in and laugh at the half-eaten room service trays on her bed.
“What?” she grins, “It’s a vacation for me.”
“You’re the best.”
She shrugs, grinning. “How’s Chief handling all of this drama anyway?”
I flop onto the bed. “He’s not. Chief loves drama about as much as he would love a bullet to the head. But he is trying.”
Reagan’s brow furrows. “I’m sorry, that sucks.”
I shrug. “It’s stupid. I love him. But I can’t stay there right now. That girl is going to drive me up the wall.”
“Well girl, you know you can stay here with me, though I don’t know how long I can afford this place.”
“I could stretch out these tiny hotel shampoos for at least a month,” I say, flopping backwards onto the bed. “No offence to Chief, but I may actually murder my sister if I have to see her one more time.”
“She’s got mean girl eyes, that one. The ones that look right through your soul and keep tabs on every calorie you eat.”
“Try every time you breathe. Even Chief’s started looking at us like he’s waiting for a murder to happen.”
Reagan cackles, then snatches a pillow and hugs it to her chest. “So, what about the reason you’re actually in town? Tell me more about what it was like to see Travis.”
I stare at the ceiling and let out a low huff. Just thinking about Travis, wired to all those machines, makes my stomach twist. “There is nothing more to say than I already said, it was fucking awful seeing him like that. Just...horrible. What if he doesn’t wake up, you know?”
She doesn’t say anything. She knows me too well to start with the optimistic bullshit. Instead, she just does her little tilt of the head, her ‘I’m listening’ face.
“He looked bad. Like, worse than I anticipated. He doesn’t even look like himself anymore. Even in a coma, he kind of looks...darker. If that makes sense?”
“Well, who knows what the last two years have been like for him,” Reagan murmurs, “Have you asked Chief that question?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m kind of scared the answer will hurt even more. What if he’s seeing someone? What if it’s even worse than that? What if he’s...happy?”
She smiles, but it’s warm this time, not playful. “Well, at least then you’ll have closure.”
“Yeah,” I murmur to myself, “I guess you’re right.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Reagan asks, sitting up and folding her legs. “You wanna hibernate here, or you wanna go out tonight? I can make us margaritas in the room. Refined sugar is good for emotional healing. Science.”
Before I can answer, my phone rings, vibrating the side table so hard it nearly jumps off. I snatch it up and see it’s Chief.
I hesitate, thumb over the screen. “It’s Chief.”
“Answer it, don’t make the poor guy suffer.”
I do. Chief’s voice tears through the line before I can say anything. “You need to come home. Now.”
My heart seizes in my chest. “Why, what happened?”
“He’s awake, baby. Travis is fuckin’ awake, and he’s asking to see you.”
I don’t realize I’ve stood up until the room tilts under me. “Are you sure? He’s really—”
“He’s talking, seems good. Get your ass down there, kid.”
He hangs up.
I turn to Reagan. “Travis is awake. He wants to see me.”
She moves quickly, picking up my keys and shoving them in my direction. “Go,” she says, pushing me toward the door.
I manage a strangled sort of laugh, blink the heat from my eyes, and bolt for the hall.
In the elevator mirror, my reflection looks wrung out and wild with hope, a sight I’d almost forgotten.
The hospital’s only ten minutes from the hotel, but time dissolves on the drive and suddenly I’m in the parking lot, heart beating out of my skin.
Inside, nothing has changed. Fluorescent hell, freshly mopped floors, every surface smelling like sanitizer or bleach.
I don’t pause at the desk this time, I know the way.
The second I reach his unit, the nurse who I spoke to yesterday, who I see is named Mary, rushes over to me.
She takes my hand, smiling. “He has been asking for you.”
I clutch her hand, desperate, like if I let go I’ll just dissolve into thin air. “Is it okay to go in?”
She smiles—so kind, I nearly lose it right there. “Of course, you’re the only one he has asked to see.”
The world tilts under my feet, and I find myself unable to let go of Mary’s hand.
She gently releases me, coaxing me with kindness to go through the door.
I hear it creak open, but I don’t feel myself move through it.
It feels as though I’m in some kind of twisted dream.
There’s a second of silence, then a hush that vibrates in my ears.
Just the two of us. No more nurses, no more distance, no more excuses.
Just me and him.
I can’t move.
I’m paralyzed at the threshold, the whole room spinning as I try to make myself move.
Fewer wires, now. His fingers clutching the hospital rail, the skin flushed.
His eyes—both open, bloodshot, but so fucking beautiful that it hurts for me to hold them for longer than a second.
His messy hair makes him look even more beautiful than I remember, especially now he is awake and looking at me, just staring into my soul.
Mary stands close and I can feel her body heat, the scent of clean cotton. She whispers, “He might be confused. Sometimes things are a little hazy, but I will be right outside if you need me.” She’s probably seen this a hundred times, but her eyes cut sideways to me and soften around the edges.
My hands shake, so bad I have to put them in my pockets or else they’ll betray me.
What do I even say? Hey? How’s it going?
I’m sorry? I’m not sorry? I came back because I thought you were dying.
Or do I just act normal, as if we’re back in the old days, leaning against the hood of his truck, laughing at some secret only the two of us know.
I stare at my shoes.
There’s a glob of something that looks suspiciously like gum on it. I want to wipe it off on the tile but suddenly once again, my body will not move.