Chapter 16
Zeke
Talon is the first thing I see when I open my eyes. And what a beautiful fucking sight he is. As soon as he realizes I’m awake, he’s at my side…and he looks like hell.
“What’s w-wrong?” I ask, my throat feeling like I swallowed glass as I attempt to raise my hand to scratch an itch on my cheek. My arm is heavy and not cooperating, and I notice the IV in my left arm. Only then do I take in the rest of my surroundings.
What the hell happened?
“Oh, thank God,” Talon says with a relieved sigh, confusing me even further. He brushes a gentle hand across my cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Confused. My throat hurts.”
“Do you remember anything about last night or this morning?” he asks.
Last night?
There’s something on the periphery of my memory, but my brain won’t catch up. It’s like running through quicksand.
I shake my head no.
“Can I show you something?” he asks, and immediately, I don’t like the pain in his eyes.
“Okay.”
“I’m going to pull your covers back,” he says before reaching for them. He holds them up so they’re blocking his view of my gown-clad body. “Open your gown.”
The movement is slow, and my fingers don’t listen well to the commands I’m giving them, but when I open my gown, the colors staring back at me bring the entire night flooding to my mind.
The four small holes being held together with sutures are new, and I have questions about those, but the bruising jogs my memory.
Derek beat me on stage first and then on the kitchen floor.
He took my phone. He slashed my tires. He ruined my job. I’ve lost the theater.
Pulling my gown closed, I stay silent, too ashamed to speak.
Talon tucks the covers back in around me and takes my hand, lacing our fingers like he did the night of the Christmas party.
“Is this okay?” he asks now, just like he did then.
My bottom lip quivers, and my eyes burn as I fight the wave of tears pooling in them.
This is rock bottom. The lowest I’ve ever been.
Even worse than before.
“I wish he’d killed me,” I finally manage to choke out as the first tear rolls down my face.
“No! Don’t say that!” Talon practically yells.
At his raised voice, a nurse rushes into the room.
“Is everything all right in here?” she asks, making notes of things on the monitor before realizing I’m awake. “Oh! You’re up!”
“Yes,” I reply in a flat, dejected tone.
“Zeke, honey, what is your last name?”
“Hastings,” I reply automatically.
“And your birthday?”
“July twenty-fourth.”
“Good,” she says. “It’s good that you remember those things, and it certainly helps us fill in some gaps. Now, my next question will be a bit harder.” She glances at Talon. “I’m afraid you’ll need to leave for this part.”
“No. He can stay,” I argue, assuming he’s the reason I’m here and not actually dead or still in Derek’s clutches.
The nurse looks uncomfortable as her gaze flashes between Talon and me. Talon’s a big guy. Suddenly, I know what she’s thinking, and the thought makes a fresh wave of nausea roll through me.
“He didn’t do this to me.”
“Do you know who did?”
I briefly think about trying to protect Derek, but what’s the point? There’s nothing left for him to take from me. “My ex-boyfriend, Derek Palmer.” Calling Derek my ex is freeing. I have no idea what comes next for me, but anything is better than returning to that place with him.
“Due to the level of trauma, I’ll have to notify the police. What happens after that is up to you,” the nurse informs me.
When she’s gone, I return my attention to Talon, who is still clutching my hand. He looks like he wants to say something, but chooses to stay quiet.
“Talon, I…” I trail off. Embarrassment overrides the pain in my throat, and I have to get this out. “I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford to be here.”
Now he really looks uncomfortable, but still, he offers me one of his gorgeous smiles.
“It’s already taken care of. The last thing I want you worrying about right now is money,” he says, as though money doesn’t make the world go round; as if money—or a lack thereof—isn’t the whole reason I’m in this situation in the first place.
“What do you mean, ‘it’s already taken care of’?”
Talon exhales long and hard.
“There are things I should have told you a while ago, but I just want you to get better first. You won’t leave this hospital with a mountain of debt, though; I can promise you that, and as soon as you’re better, I’ll tell you everything.
” The sincerity in his tone wraps around me like a blanket.
It’s so familiar, yet as I lie here, it dawns on me that the simple questions the nurse asked provided all new information to Talon, and what’s more, I don’t know those things about him, either.
“What’s your last name?” I ask.
He winces.
“Later. Please.”
“Fine. Your birthday?” I try, proving I won’t rest until he gives me some kind of information.
He doesn’t hesitate to answer this one.
“September fifteenth,” he says with a small smile, running the fingers of his free hand along my cheek again. “Stop talking. You’re supposed to be resting,” he chastises with no real bite to his voice.
“Tell me how I got here?” I ask.
He takes me through the events of the morning and is just finishing as a man in forest-green scrubs enters the room.
“Hello. I’m Dr. Halstadt,” he says, reaching forward to shake Talon’s hand.
“I apologize for taking so long to come speak with you. It’s been a bit busy today,” he says.
“Mr. Devereaux, my nurse informed me of your generous offer. I assure you, it’s not necessary, but it did convey how much my patient here means to you.
It’s nice to see such devotion considering the damage he’s suffered. ”
Devereaux. That’s his last name. Why does it sound familiar? And what offer?
“Zeke, how are you feeling?” Dr. Halstadt asks, addressing me for the first time.
“Fine, I guess. A little out of it. Sore,” I answer, repeating what I told Talon and the nurses.
“All of that is to be expected. You have two broken ribs. One of them put a small hole in your lung when it fractured, which is why it was difficult to breathe when you arrived. Your spleen was also ruptured. You were lucky to have survived the night,” he says somberly.
“It was a small tear, but you were bleeding into your abdomen, and the bacteria spread easily. When you were brought in, you were entering septic shock. If Mr. Devereaux hadn’t acted as quickly as he had, you’d most likely be dead.
We were able to remove the spleen, and you’ve been started on a heavy dose of IV antibiotics, but you’re not out of the woods just yet, and we’d like to keep you for two or three days to make sure we don’t run into any complications. ”
“Two or three days?” I whisper. “I can’t stay—”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Talon says, cutting me off. “We appreciate everything. We’ll stay as long as needed to ensure his full recovery.”
Dr. Halstadt nods.
“Because of the trauma we found, we ran an STD panel. The results of the panel all came back negative. We also—”
“We understand. Thank you,” Talon says, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence.
Dr. Halstadt curtly nods again, understanding this is hard to hear and a lot to process, before continuing.
“Photos of your injuries have also been added to your medical record. I’ll be back to check on you before I leave for the day. If you need anything in the meantime, please let Carol at the nurse’s station know. We want to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.”
When my door closes behind him, I look at Talon, my brain struggling to find the words I need.
“Why do I feel like I’m getting special treatment?” I ask, unable to let it go. Focusing on whatever Talon is keeping from me is also easier than trying to process the shit Derek just put me through.
“Because you are,” Talon says, finally letting go of my hand. I hate the loss, but he’s only gone for a second as he places a chair next to the bed and grabs hold of my hand once more.
“But why?”
He casts his eyes to the floor, and it’s nice to see his cheeks redden for once, instead of mine.
“Because they know who I am,” he finally says.
“Who the hell are you?” When he doesn’t answer, I squeeze his hand. “Hey, you’re starting to really freak me out, and honestly, I can’t handle any more of that right now.”
“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I’m not a fugitive or a criminal or anything like that, but before I tell you, can we discuss something else first?”
“I guess so,” I say, knowing I’ll agree to just about anything if it’ll make him tell me what’s going on.
“When you get discharged, I want you to come stay with me,” he says.
I wish I could argue.
I wish I had more options.
I wish I had achieved some level of independence in the last four years and had enough in savings to be able to not need anyone, but I haven’t, and I don’t.
Talon’s kind enough to offer me what I should have agreed to last night before any of this happened.
“Talon, I—”
But he jumps in, interrupting me again. I know he thinks I’m going to put up a fight, but the reality is I literally have nothing. No phone. No car. No house. No job. No food. Even as stubborn as I am, I know I can’t turn him down, but I let him make his argument anyway.
“Zeke, I like you. Probably too much, all things considered, and I’m breaking a lot of rules by offering this.
But you need help, and I want to give it to you.
I can give it to you. Eloise is out grabbing new clothes and toiletries as we speak.
We’ll get you a new phone. And I’ve informed Victoria Ruiz that she is to disregard your resignation. ”
There are too many words.
Too many questions.
How does Talon have the authority to tell Victoria what to do? And what money does he have that he’s sent his sister to buy me an entire new wardrobe?
I shake my head.
“This is too much.”
“It’s not,” Talon says emphatically. “You’re not alone, Zeke. Let me help you.”
I know Talon isn’t Derek, but I’ve heard those exact words before, and the price I paid for the help I received wasn’t worth it in the end.
Is it possible things could be different this time?