Chapter 36
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SIX
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is a large, blurry shape crammed into an uncomfortable-looking chair.
I blink, and a handsome, sleeping man comes into focus in a pair of dark jeans and an unreasonably snug Henley.
His glasses sit next to him on a hospital tray table, and just for a moment, asleep like that, he looks so much like Kyle.
Except . . . he doesn’t. Now that I’m really looking, all I see anymore is Drew.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” a nurse says, slipping into the dim room as I sit up. She glances at the hunk of masculine beauty in the chair and gives me a knowing smile. “This guy’s pretty devoted.”
My mouth twitches. “Has he been here all night?”
“We were supposed to kick him out, but . . .” She rolls her eyes. “I’m a softie for a good dog story.”
My gaze flickers back to Drew, and this time warm green eyes blink back at me. He reaches over, slipping his glasses back onto his face, and my heart does a soft little skip.
“I’ll be back to change your fluids in a bit,” the nurse says, stepping out as quickly as she came. Before the door even closes, Drew has the chair right up next to the bed, and my pulse starts dancing.
“How’s your head?” he asks.
I reach up instinctively, fingers tracing over the gauze still taped to my temple.
I received nine stitches, a CT scan, and a cocktail of IV drugs before landing here for observation.
It felt like some kind of torture getting through all the questions, tests, and pokes with my head ready to explode.
But the IV helped a lot, and I was grateful to come out of this ordeal with “only” a moderate concussion and a few bruised ribs.
“Much better.” I roll awkwardly toward him, trying to get closer without tangling my wires and tubes. “And Rufus . . . ?”
“Is with your friend Lydia, I can confirm.” He hands me his phone with a lopsided smile. On the screen is a selfie of Lydia and Rufus—she’s grinning at the camera while he drags his long tongue up the side of her face.
“What’s that on his neck?” I ask.
Drew’s eyes darken. “He needed a couple of stitches where that asshole cut him when he attacked.”
“He what?” I zoom in on the photo, and sure enough, a patch of his golden fur is shaved around a stitched, crooked wound. My heartbeat pulses under my skin. “He got hurt?”
“It wasn’t deep. He’ll be okay,” Drew says gently. “He did exactly what he was trained to do.”
“I just . . .” I swallow, trying to put my feelings into words, but all I choke out is, “That damn dog means so much.”
Drew takes my hands in his and waits until I meet his gaze. “You both do.”
We sit there a minute, holding onto each other. Until finally, I clear my throat. “Listen, Drew—”
A muffled ruckus cuts through the air, and it’s a second before I recognize the familiar notes of Scooby Doo. I sit up, scanning the room for my phone as Drew hops out of the chair, pulling my device from his jeans pocket.
He hands it to me, then steps toward the door. “I’ll just give you some—”
“No,” I say too quickly. My face warms at the intensity in my voice and the flutter in my chest. If there’s anything I’m certain of, it’s that I don’t want Drew to leave. I tap the screen to answer, then look at him and mouth Would you stay?
He sits again almost immediately.
I take a deep breath and put the call on speaker. “This is Caprice.”
“Okay, you are alive. That’s a positive.” My brother’s voice comes over the line thick but surprisingly clear. “Some Forbes answered your phone last night, and I wasn’t sure whether I should believe him.”
I raise my eyebrows, wincing when I forget my stitches. “Very much alive. Are you stateside?” He must be if he’s calling from his cell.
“Yeah. I’m in . . . Delaware,” he says. “Trying to get my ass on a flight so I can bust some balls in Denver.” He hesitates, then asks softly, “Are you okay?”
My cheek twitches. I don’t know how much Drew told him, and honestly, I don’t know how to answer his question yet. “You do not need to fly here and do anything.” I let out a low breath. “I’m okay, Theo. Thanks in part to that smelly dog you gave me.”
The corner of Drew’s mouth curves into a smile.
“Okay, see?” Theo’s voice rises. “I told you—”
“Blah blah blah, I’m grateful for Rufus. I’m keeping him. End of conversation.” I sink happily into our usual banter.
“Well, I’m glad that’s settled.” A barely audible chuckle comes over the line before my brother ruins our playful facade. “Reece, if I’d been there—I—I’m so sorry—”
My throat closes. I don’t know if he’s really in Delaware. If he’s really somewhere safe. But I can’t listen to Theo beat himself up because he thinks he failed me.
“The guy’s in jail. I’m okay.” I squeeze Drew’s hand, letting out a shaky breath my brother can’t hear. “The police are still investigating, but they think it was the same guy sending me shit this whole time.”
“The one from Unmatched?” Theo growls.
“Not the guy I originally thought, but yeah. He was on there. Apparently, I’m not the first woman this asshole has stalked.
” I swallow. “And before you say anything, I know this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t written about that app, but I didn’t become a journalist to write about shit that doesn’t matter. ”
There’s a long pause, and I gird myself for a lecture. Something about safety and not drawing attention to myself. But when he speaks again, my badass little brother is clearly holding back emotion.
“I hope you know I’ve only ever given you shit about your job because I love you and I want you safe.
I never meant to imply you were responsible for any man’s behavior.
” He takes a breath and continues. “Your work exposing that app has been important—admirable. And when I read your piece about Kyle this week . . .” He hesitates, voice quavering.
“It was beautiful, Reece. You honored his life, but you also shed light on his struggle. I think it’ll help people. I think he’d be proud.”
I press my lips together, unsure what to say. Then I glance at Drew in the chair where he spent half the night. And the shine in his eyes is everything.
“If I haven’t already said so,” my brother goes on. “I admire you. You’re a damn good writer. A talented journalist. And you’re fucking brave.”
“Thanks, Theo,” I whisper.
He clears his throat. “I’m gonna have to run. I-I just needed to hear your voice. I will be checking to make sure that motherfucker who came after you gets what he deserves, but mostly . . . I just needed to say I love you.”
I wipe the corners of my eyes. “I love you too.”
“Oh, and Mom’s on her way up from Castle Rock right now. Sorry.”
“You didn’t . . .” I bring my hand to my face, but he’s already ended the call.
I set the phone next to me on the bed, staring at my fingers still curled around Drew’s. He pivots toward me and clears his throat. “You know, your brother was right.”
I tilt my head, afraid to look straight at him until I’ve fought back my tears. “About what?”
“What you wrote about Kyle. His depression. Not just after his TBI—his lifelong battle.” Drew’s voice is thick, but his words are unflinching. “I could tell how much you loved him just from what you wrote. How hard you must’ve tried to make his existence easier.”
My throat tightens.
He squeezes both my hands, catching my eye again.
“But Theo’s right. The most powerful part of your article, the part that’s going to help people heal, is your forgiveness.
Of Kyle, but also yourself. Acknowledging that while you did everything you possibly could to help him, ultimately the choice he made was never about you. ”
A tear splashes onto our joined hands. Mine.
“Or you,” I whisper.
He reaches up to my cheek, wiping the next tear before it falls. And then he’s out of the chair, squeezing gently into the hospital bed until he’s pulled me into his arms.
“Since my brother died, I’ve been so focused on doing right by him—at first through Rufus. But then I started trying to do the same thing with you.”
He strokes my face, taking care to give my stitches a wide berth.
“But last night, when I heard you scream, when I didn’t know what was happening inside your apartment . . .” His voice breaks. “Kyle hardly crossed my mind, Caprice. I was just desperate to get to you.”
I lean into his big body then, wrapping my arms around his warm, too-firm chest. Getting as close to him as possible.
“I know you said what happened before was just sex,” he says so low it’s barely a whisper. “But I—”
“I love you,” I say.
We each pause a heartbeat, listening as those words hit the air.
“Whatever I said before was bullshit. I felt everything you felt. I still do. And I will never forget the way you made me come. But more than that, you’re not the person I thought you were, and it’s been magic realizing I was wrong.
You make me feel safe. You love my dog.” My vision hazes again as we stare at each other. “And I love you.”
His lips are on mine before I can breathe. My hands twist in his hair, knocking his glasses askew. There are too many IVs and wires and beeps, and pretty soon, there’s a nurse in here yelling at me. But I don’t even care. All I hear is Drew uttering my words back to me, into my skin.
“I love you, Caprice. You are everything to me.”