Jethro #2
I narrowed my eyes, blocking off her thoughts and focusing on my own. “Truly. I promise I won’t keel over and die on your shift.”
She huffed but moved away, staying within grabbing distance. I just hoped my arse wasn’t hanging out of the god-awful gown.
Wedging my back against the desk so she wouldn’t get an eyeful, I smiled grimly. “I needed some fresh air and a change of scenery.”
That’s not all I need.
She nodded as if it made perfect sense. “I get that a lot. Well, the media room is just down there.” She pointed further down the corridor. “I can get a wheelchair and settle you if you like? Lots of DVDs to keep a night owl entertained.”
I cocked my head, pretending to contemplate the idea. “Sounds tempting. But you know what I’d really like to do?”
She pursed her lips. “What?”
“Is there a convenience store in the building? Somewhere I can buy a phone? Something that can connect to the internet as well as basic calling?”
She frowned. “There’s a small shop on the bottom floor by the café, but I can’t let you go down there, Mr. Ambrose. It’s four floors and late. Besides, I doubt it will be open at this time of night.”
My heart squeezed with dejection.
Nila.
I have to speak to her.
I couldn’t wait any longer. Grabbing the nurse’s hand, I flicked a glance at her nametag. Injecting as much charm into my voice as possible, I murmured, “Edith, I really need that phone. Any way you can help me out?”
She tugged in my hold, blinking. “Um, it’s against hospital policy to assist with patient requests outside of medical requirement.”
I chuckled, wincing as my muscles heralded another wash of agony. “I’m not asking you to grab me a burger or something bad for my health.”
She laughed softly.
“Surely, popping downstairs and grabbing me a phone would be okay?” I ducked to look deeper into her gaze. “I’d be forever in your debt.”
Debt...
Shit, I hated that word.
Nila would never be in debt again for as long as she lived. I would eradicate that word for motherfucking eternity the minute this was all over. No rhyme or reason existed for why my family did what they did to the Weavers. What’d started as vengeance swiftly became entertainment.
Boredom.
That was the cause. It had to be.
My ancestors were never equipped to deal with vast wealth having nothing better to do than pluck the wings from innocent butterflies and hurt those less fortunate.
There was such a thing as too much time and decadence, turning someone into a heartless monster.
Edith bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t know.” Looking down the corridor toward my room, she said, “I’ll tell you what, head back to bed. You can discuss it with the morning manager and see what they can do.”
My stomach clenched.
It has to be tonight.
“No. I can’t run that risk. You’re here now. One request, then I’ll leave you alone. What do you say?”
Fuck this backless gown and lack of worldly possessions.
I was so used to towering over people in rich linen and tailored cotton, pulling out a wallet bursting with money. Money always got what you wanted. Cash always enticed someone to say yes.
It truly was a double-edged sword.
“If you go now, I’ll pay you triple what the phone is worth.”
Her entire body stiffened.
Shit, shouldn’t have said that.
“I don’t accept bribes, Mr. Ambrose.”
Pain shot through my system, drenching me in sweat again.
I couldn’t be vertical much longer. My shoulders rolled in defeat.
“Please, Edith. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t very important.
” Going against all instinct, I let down my walls and begged, “Please. I need to speak with someone. They think—they think I died. I can’t let them continue worrying about me.
It isn’t fair.” Hissing through my teeth as a hot wave of discomfort took me hostage, I muttered, “You wouldn’t do that to a loved one, would you?
Let them sit at home and fear the worst? ”
Her face fell. “No, I guess you’re right.”
Thank God.
Suddenly, she moved back around the desk and grabbed a purple handbag. Rummaging inside, she passed me an older model cell-phone. “Here. Text them now. My shift is almost over. I’ll get you the phone tomorrow when I come back into work.”
It wasn’t ideal, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.
My hand shook as I reached for it. “I can’t thank you enough.”
She waved it away. “Don’t mention it.”
The moment I held the phone, I wanted to sprint back to my room. To hear Nila’s voice. To beg for her forgiveness. To know she was okay.
I shoved away pain, holding the gift and the knowledge that I could finally reach out to her.
Hating that I couldn’t steal Edith’s phone and find some privacy, I shuffled away a little and swiped on the old device.
The time blinked on the home screen.
2:00 a.m.
Where are you, Nila?
Are you in bed? Sneaking out to ride Moth to find some peace like I used to do? Is your phone even charged?
Questions and worries exploded in my heart.
Cut had said her life would continue unmolested, but that was before he shot us. Who knew what new rules and madness he’d put in place now we were gone.
If he’s touched her, I’ll make him fucking pay.
My shakes turned savage as I opened a new message. My memory was rusty as I input her number. I hoped to God I got it right. I’d sent hundreds of messages to her but never took the time to imprint her number on my soul.
Please, please let it be right.
Using the keypad, I typed:
From one indebted to another, you’re not forgotten. I love you. I miss you. I only think of you.
I pressed send before I could go overboard. Already, that gave away too much, especially if Cut had confiscated her phone.
Then again, the number was from a stranger. It would look like any other reporter digging for a story or publicity stunt. Even with our Vanity Fair interview, the dregs of magazines looked to revive a has-been tale by piecing together fabricated facts.
That was another issue of recuperating in a hospital with nothing to do. Daytime television was enough to rot anyone’s brain—demented or otherwise.
I didn’t leave my name. I didn’t send another.
But she would know.
She would understand.
She would know that I was coming for her.
* * * * *
The next night, Edith fulfilled her promise.
Her shift started at 10:00 p.m. and by half past, she appeared in my room bearing a gift in the form of a brand new phone.
I couldn’t speak as I took the box, digging my fingers into the cellophane. Motherfucking tears actually sprang to my eyes at the thought of finally having a way of contacting Nila while we were apart.
Fuck, I need to hear her voice.
Edith’s emotions washed over me. Pride for helping a broken man. Compassion for my predicament. And attraction mixed with guilt over our age difference.
Sniffing back my overwhelming relief, I smiled. In one action, Edith had given me the strength to sit up taller, knit together faster.
I’m leaving soon. I’m ending this soon.
Taking her hand, I squeezed. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
She blushed. “I think I have an idea.” Tugging free, she looked away. “She’s a lucky young lady.”
And I’m a lucky fucking bastard.
I remained silent.
Awkwardness wafted off her, mirroring my own. No matter how much I appreciated Edith’s help, I wanted to be alone. Now.
A thought snapped into my brain. “Oh, did you receive a reply?”
Edith tilted her head. “Excuse me?”
“From the message I sent on your phone last night?”
“Oh...uhh.” Her emotions stuttered, shadowing with grief that she didn’t have better news.
Goddammit.
I didn’t need her to vocalize what my condition told me. Nila hadn’t replied.
Why not?
Is she okay?
Edith shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.”
I sighed heavily.
What does that mean?
Nila didn’t see the message?
She’s hurt and imprisoned and suffering?
Fuck!
My heart bucked against my ribs, feeding anxiety to an already strained nervous system. Jaz said she’d keep her safe. Please, Jaz, keep your word.
My attention left Edith, unable to wait any longer. Ripping into the plastic, I unwrapped the box like a spoiled brat at Christmas and grabbed the phone. With trembling fingers, I tore open the SIM package and battery and inserted both into the device.
I pressed the power button, waiting for it to come alive.
“Oh, almost forgot.” Edith passed me a receipt with a recharge pin. “That will get you on the internet and unlimited calls for a month.”
Shit, I’d forgotten that part of prepay. My old phone had been on an account, deducted and sorted by our personal accountant, along with other menial bill payments.
“Thanks.” I took the docket, anxiously entering the code once the phone illuminated. “I’ll bring the money to you tonight.”
I had no idea how I would do that seeing as I had no identification, bankcards, or way of leaving the hospital, but I would pay her a small fortune for such kindness.
She waved it away. “Just when you can. No rush.” Smiling one last time, she made her way to the exit.
My mind immediately discounted her as I focused entirely on the phone. A text pinged saying the voucher code was accepted and the number was ready for use.
The wave of indecision from Edith and small creak of the door wrenched my head up. “Anything else?”
Edith blanched, her eyebrows knitting together. “I was going to ask something, but it’s not my place.”
It killed me to pause when I was so close to contacting Nila, but I grinned softly. “You’ve earned the right to ask me anything.”
She bit her lip. “Do you know?” Her eyes darted to the floor. “You were shot. There’s secrecy about how it happened and only one number on your next of kin.”
I waited, but she didn’t go on. Only the gentle pulse of curiosity from her inquisition.
“What’s your question?”
She patted her plaited hair. “Like I said, not my place. But I wanted to know...if...you knew the person who did it?”
I froze. What sort of answer should I give? Pretend amnesia and hide yet another aspect of my life?
I’m sick of hiding.
All my bloody life I’d hid from my condition, my obligation, my future.
I was done pretending.
“Yes, I know who did it.”
Her hand curled around the door handle. A wave of injustice for my situation washed from her.
I grinned, letting myself indulge in my condition without repercussion. “In answer to your next question, yes, I will make them pay.”
Her eyes popped wide. “How did you know I was going to ask that?”
Her surprise reminded me of Nila’s shock when we spent the night together, when I truly let down my guard and felt her tangled thoughts.
Someone like me had the ability to seem as if we read the future.
The perfect mystic able to decipher palms and speak with the dead—all the information you ever needed to know about a person was right there ready to be felt if more attention and empathy was used.
Pity the human race was so wrapped up in themselves that they forgot to think about others.
“Just a knack I have.”
Edith blushed again. “You’re quite the interesting patient.”
I managed to keep it together while she vibrated with more embarrassment.
“Anyway, I have to start my rounds.” Giving me one last look, she slinked around the door and disappeared.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the room quietened and the door shut me away from the outside world. The instant I didn’t have an audience, my heart crumpled. I gritted my jaw to stop the overwhelming pain from eating me alive.
Only this pain wasn’t from the bullet but the terrifying fear that Nila had been hurt.
She didn’t respond to my previous text.
She had to have known it was me.
I swallowed against more agony. I wished I could sense her from this far away—tune into her thoughts and find out if she was safe like Jasmine promised or needed my help before I was any use to her.
My muscles quivered as I fumbled with the phone’s menu, inputting her number and opening a new message. I didn’t want to be reckless, but I also couldn’t lie there another moment fearing for her safety.
The debts she’d lived through were nothing to what was ahead.
I had to kill my father before that happened.
Before he took her away from me. Nila hadn’t been told how many debts she had to pay and to be honest, I’d read paperwork where more were added and less were taken, depending on how bored or cruel my ancestors were.
The Fourth Debt was coming. But the Fifth Debt...
I shuddered.
That won’t happen. I would never let it happen.
Sighing, I forced happier thoughts and typed a message.
Unknown Number: Answer me. Tell me you’re okay. I’m okay. We’re both okay. I need to hear from you. I need to know you’re still mine.
I pressed send.