31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
KAT
A dull thump beat at the back of my head in tune with the rhythmic beeping of the machine next to me. Gradually, the world resumed. The mattress was a stiff board beneath my hip. Everything in my body groaned, begging to have me stretch, and I rolled my neck.
“Bernie?” I muttered, prying my eyes open as if they’d been glued shut.
The musty smell of the hospital crashed into my senses, and I took in the sight around me. There was nothing special about this room. Plain, white walls with a light, beige hardwood flooring brought some brightness into the room. But it was the man pacing back and forth to my right that had me immediately clamping my mouth closed.
Wyatt.
The very man who shot me chewed on a nail as his eyes remained wide, and he stared at the floor in front of him—clearly unaware I was awake. His clothes were clinging stiffly to him, mostly dry from the torrential rainfall I’d been in what seemed just a moment ago .
But the person I wanted to see wasn’t here. And just as I was about to let hope flutter into my heart that he was simply out with the receptionist or somewhere else in the hospital, it dawned on me that Bernie would never let Wyatt in this room if he was actually here.
Which led me to my second conclusion that Wyatt had told the doctors and nurses or whoever was in charge that it wasn’t him who shot me. The panic he now clearly was feeling, I assumed was in anticipation for when I woke up and didn’t collaborate his story.
Except Bernie was still missing. Pinching my brows together, I remained still on the bed and ignored the desire to touch the thick bandage on my left arm. Through the dull pounding in the back of my skull, I wondered why he wasn’t here. He would’ve come for me. I had no doubt that he—
My eyes widened as the door shot open.
Glancing over my shoulder, I barely had time to register the fury that stormed in through the frame. Bernie raced like a madman directly at Wyatt who froze in place. He threw his hands in front of him just as Bernie barreled into him.
A grunt crashed out of Wyatt’s lungs as Bernie slammed him to the floor. With one hand around Wyatt’s throat, Bernie dug his knee into his chest, imprinting his clothes with the mud that still caked Bernie’s clothes.
“How fucking dare you,” Bernie snarled.
Wyatt swung a lazy fist at Bernie while clawing at the chokehold around his neck. Bernie simply caught the punch and shoved his hand back down to the floor.
“You shot her,” he hissed again .
The rational side of me told me to stop them. But the side of me that was angry won the battle—I remained silent.
Wyatt gurgled, thrashing against the tight hold Bernie had on him. A sheet of red filled Wyatt’s face as his eyes widened. Each gasp pulled strained breaths of very little oxygen as he fought to free himself from the slowly encroaching death.
Despite Bernie’s aggressive words, everything else in his body remained oddly calm. His knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip around Wyatt’s throat.
“How fucking dare you,” he hissed again, leaning a bit closer to the man whose flailing had slowed.
“Bernie, stop!” Ford’s voice seared through the heightening darkness encroaching this room.
I glanced at the still open doorway again, and in rushed Bernie’s best friend, followed by four police officers.
With a thud, the massive man tackled Bernie, ripping him off Wyatt. I heard a sharp inhale as two cops cut my view off from Wyatt on the ground, and the other two rushed over toward where Ford now held Bernie pinned to the Wall.
“IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE YOU!” Wyatt shouted, shoving against the one officer who stretched forward a hand to help him up. Stumbling to his feet, he bumped into the other cop who grabbed one wrist and twisted it behind Wyatt’s back.
“I know,” Bernie seethed over Ford’s shoulder .
“I would never shoot Kat! It was supposed to be you! You’re supposed to be dead! You ruined everything!” Wyatt spat a wad of snot toward Bernie as the officer tugged his other hand behind his back.
“Now there’s a confession if there ever was one,” one of the cops standing to the side of Bernie and Ford muttered.
“I’m not saying shit!” Wyatt snapped, jerking his arms away from the silver cuffs.
“You already did, which means we’re not just going to ask questions anymore. You’re under arrest, Wyatt Benson,” the officer helping restrain him stated. “Now quit fighting and listen as I read you your rights.”
Relief crashed through me. Wyatt was going away, and by his own doing. Bernie hadn’t needed to orchestrate anything, and I was safe. Bernie had kept me safe.
“Bernie assaulted me, too! What about him?” Wyatt shouted, attempting one last tug against the cuffs that clicked tightly around his wrists. His eyes stared daggers at the eerily calm man pinned up against the wall.
“Bernie?” the cop on the opposite side of Ford asked, his blond brows pulling together. “As in Bernie Phillips? Eleanor Phillips’s oldest boy?”
Bernie nodded but remained silent.
“You’ve caused quite a stir around these parts since you came to town,” he continued.
Wyatt curled his upper lip as the two officers with him guided him around the foot of my bed.
“Is this going to continue to be an issue?” the other cop with Bernie and Ford asked.
Bernie shook his head. “No, sir. ”
The policeman inhaled deeply as he hooked his thumbs beneath his bulletproof vest. He raised a bushy, black brow and studied the man I cared for.
My heart pattered heavily, wishing that everyone else would leave this room so I could have a moment alone with Bernie. I offered no backward glance to Wyatt as he was dragged out into the hallway.
“Were you simply defending Kat, since the man who shot her was in this room with her and she’s temporarily unable to protect herself?” the officer continued.
“Yes, sir,” Bernie politely replied as Ford cautiously released him from the wall.
“And you sent your friend here to report the shooting to the authorities instead of doing so yourself in order to make sure no further harm came to Kat?” he asked, tipping his head toward Ford. I liked where this questioning was going.
Bernie nodded again. “Of course, sir.”
“Now that we have the perpetrator arrested, you’re aware she is safe and all we will need is statements from everyone involved?”
“Absolutely, officer.” Bernie kept his gaze steadily focused at nothing and no one.
“All right, if your friend here would like to step out into the hallway, we’ll start with his statement first.” He gave a curt nod at Bernie and then spun on his heels. The officer’s eyes briefly met mine, and through the pounding headache, I realized that there was no more reason to keep what Bernie and I shared a secret. Because it wasn’t a secret already. That single glance from the cop told me all I needed to know .
And finally, as Ford and the final other visitor disappeared from my room, closing the door behind them, I was left with the one man I’d wanted to be alone with for a while.
The final click of the door shutting danced around the room, and as if cued by a conductor to an orchestra, Bernie’s eyes shot to mine and all calm facade upon his figure fell. His shoulders slumped forward, and his brows pinched together, that ever-present line appearing once more.
He shot to my side and collapsed to his knees. “I’m so sorry, Kit Kat. I’m so sorry,” he whispered. Closing his eyes, he inhaled a shaky breath.
“Bernie,” I quietly said and stretched a stiff arm forward. My fingers danced across his cheek. Warmth tingled beneath my touch as he leaned a little closer into it.
“I failed you. I should’ve stopped him. But I—” His voice cracked as he remained on his knees at my side. “I thought I was… I couldn’t figure out if what happened was… I wasn’t sure if it was you or…” His bottom jaw trembled, the words he attempted to share clearly caught behind pain and anguish that I would never have to experience personally, but I understood.
Slipping my hand to the back of his neck, I curled his hair between my fingers. “Duncan?” I gently said.
He nodded, his face tightening as grief deepened the mature lines upon his face. A single tear slid down his cheek.
“It’s okay, Bottle Cap. I’m okay. Everything’s okay, other than I’m not sure why the graze of a bullet on my arm knocked me out.” I paused as he opened his eyes and finally glanced up to meet my gaze. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and raised a trembling hand. He hesitated above my skin, and I studied his movements for a moment .
Time seemed inconsequential as his brows twitched. Some war raged in his mind as he stared at his fingers. “You looked like you’d gotten down from the ATV,” he muttered as he finally rested his fingers against my outstretched arm.
I exhaled deeply and closed my eyes as his calloused touch danced down my arm, inching his way toward the bandage and then traced the taped edges across my skin. Visceral goosebumps erupted on my skin as I soaked in every tender shared moment in this blissful, though temporary, private getaway.
“I remember climbing down from the four-wheeler, the most awful pain ripping across my left arm and then it was lights out,” I softly said.
“Are you nauseous at all? Dizzy?”
“Both. Plus, there’s this rather excruciating dull ache on the back of my head.”
I heard him sigh and cracked my eyes open. He let his touch fall away from my arm and braced his palms against the edge of my mattress. “I bet when the bullet hit you, you instinctively shot backward to try and get out of the pain and smacked your head against the four-wheeler,” he explained.
Slipping my hand away from the back of his neck, I latched onto his wrist as he rose from the ground. “Don’t go. Please.”
He gave me a tight smile, but there was something in his gaze that kept the reassuring gesture from reaching his eyes. “I’m right here, Kit Kat. You’re safe.”
“Then kiss me,” I begged, desperation for his comfort bleeding through the hard exterior I attempted to build .
His beautiful, sorrow-filled gaze remained steady with mine as he placed a hand beside my head on the pillow and leaned forward. Warmth from his body heat settled over me like a gentle blanket as the familiar smell of his musk draped upon my senses.
Less than an inch away from my lips, he briefly paused and brushed some hair away from my face. “We’re going to get this bed very messy if I’m not careful,” he whispered.
“Is that a poor attempt at a sex joke?” I teased, ignoring the fact that he was right, seeing as he was still covered in mud.
A spark jumped in his gaze, and for half a second, the smile finally cracked to his eyes. Then his lips gently captured mine. As if heaven had been brought to Earth, his kiss stole me away into a world that held no apprehension for every burning city he had traversed. There was no anguish lingering at the tips of his touch.
For a moment, as his velvet mouth danced against mine, there was nothing but him and I.
The pillow dipped beside me as he scrunched the fabric between his fingers, deepening the kiss. Simple, passionate, intimate in a way that I’d yet to know from Bernie. My hand returned to the back of his neck, threading once more through sticky, rain-soaked hair. I wanted him. I wanted this.
I needed him.
Breaking the kiss briefly, he tipped his head the other way and dove back in. All fear that had once coursed through me with the idea of being so public with this man fled. The worries about what would happen with my dad when he found out were gone. How beautiful that there was now freedom in being with Bernie. My dad had to accept this; otherwise he’d be pushing for the man that shot his daughter. Wyatt’s parents had to be understanding, considering the actions of their own son. Which had me desperately clinging to the notion that something could still be worked out for the debt my parents’ ranch was in.
The fleeting thoughts of comfort melted into the desperate and tender kiss that Bernie offered. Both of his hands clamped around my cheeks, tightening his hold against me and gently raising me slightly from the bed.
I wrapped both of my arms around his neck, allowing the momentum and his embrace to lift me slowly. Stars danced behind my eyelids, but whether it was from the movement or rush of heat through my body by his kiss holding to mine, I wasn’t sure.
His thumb swept back and forth upon my cheek as he moved his lips against mine. Seeking so intensely as if he was afraid he might forget what it felt like. I slid my hands down his shoulders and dropped them to his waist. Twisting the fabric between my fingers, I tugged him closer.
He smiled against my mouth and nibbled gently at my bottom lip. Pausing for a moment, his chest rose and fell sporadically with every breath, and then he dove right back in. This time a little more aggressive, a little more passionate, as if he longed to make that mess he joked about.
A quiet moan escaped my mouth as he slid his kiss down my neck and sank his teeth into my skin. I could only imagine how salty it tasted seeing as I’d only been cleaned up by whatever the doctors and nurses had seen fit, but he didn’t seem to care. He slid his tongue against the bite mark, and with every passing second, I knew his control was quickly fleeting, and I wanted him to make that mess of me right now. No matter how ill-timed I knew it was .
He tipped my head sideways, exposing more of my body for him to devour as he trailed his wet kiss down to my collarbone. One set of his fingers left my face and pushed the edge of my hospital gown off my shoulder where he slid his tongue across the newly unveiled skin.
And that familiar click of a handle disengaging seared through our private moment.
Bernie shot away from me as panicked chatter filled the room and sent my head into a nauseating spin. Chatter from people I knew loved me and shoved themselves between Bernie’s fading frame and the edge of my bed.
“I’ll let you go. Your family is worried,” Bernie muttered. I barely heard him through the uproar from my family. Grief slipped across his face, and he disappeared into the shadows behind the swarm that surrounded me.
A whirlwind of people filled with questions about what happened and whether I was okay. Amongst the frantic pressure from both of my parents and my brothers was a familiar reassuring voice from my best friend, who’d clearly brought them. I attempted to gaze around my mom who screeched in a panic voice directly in front of me. Everything twisted around me as if I was stuck in a hurricane and the one thing that held me grounded had been ripped away.
Bernie. He was the person who kept me steady.
A splitting headache had the room spinning, and my family around me turned fuzzy and discombobulated. I couldn’t make heads nor tails of what was up and what was down, as people fussed over me. Little hands from my brothers jumped up onto the bed as another set of arms wrapped around me in a tightening hug.
But all I wanted was Bernie .
Nausea curdled in my throat, threatening to dispel at any second. It was cruel that at this moment, surrounded by my mom, dad, Emma, and three brothers that I still sought out one singular man. I knew that. I was aware that despite Emma’s best attempts to keep them from crowding me too closely, I even desired for her to leave.
Cramming my eyes shut, I clamped my hands over my ears. The noise drifted away, as if I’d slipped beneath the surface of a lake and a semblance of balance and calm returned. But the temporary control was lost as I realized that amongst the drowning clatter, I couldn’t find Bernie.
Snapping my eyes open, I raked over the crowd of concerned and loving family that surrounded me once again.
I’ll let you go , he’d said. And he hadn’t returned from the shadowy corner that had swallowed him up as my family had flooded into the room.
My heart shattered. Tears welled up in my eyes as the sounds in this tomb became as hollow as my soul.
“Bernie?” I whispered.
A hand clamped down against my cheek, and my gaze darted back to my mother’s. “What’d you say, sweetheart?”
“Bernie. Where’s Bernie?” I asked again, quietly.
As the rest of my family continued to talk around us, her comforting smile fell, but she said nothing.
“Where is he?”
“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. We passed a couple officers in the hallway, but Bernie wasn’t with them, and if he was here, I was so focused on you I didn’t see him.”
I pulled my brows together, as a knife slipped between my ribs .
“Oh, here’s your phone. It was in your pants pocket. I also brought clothes for when you’re discharged tomorrow morning if all things remain stable.” My mom stretched forward her hand, and I cautiously slid the phone off her palm. A strange look in her eyes that I couldn’t quite decipher had me concerned.
“What are you saying?” I muttered and glanced down at my phone screen.
A single message waited. From Bernie.
I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry I failed to keep my one, simple promise. You are worth more than I am.
That was it.
“I’m sorry, honey,” my mom whispered as my bottom lip trembled.
Choking down the tears, I scanned the room one more time. Bernie wasn’t here.
The knife twisted as I knew deep within me that he’d left.
He was gone.
And not just for the time being.