Chapter Eight
Fallon
I can't do this anymore. Every single time we think she's safe, this happens. But this time was different. He hurt Gracie, too. Poor innocent Gracie. We thought it would be a good idea to visit Maya and Tommy in the Cotswolds for a while, but how wrong we were. The worst part is, we don’t actually know what he did to Maya, and how far he took it. From the way Tommy reacted, I’m not sure if she was abused in a different way. I hope to god that’s not the case.
Maya's ex has been obsessed with her. Stalking her, sending her messages, pretending to be someone else entirely when she had lost her memories, all to get close to her. No one could know the lengths he is willing to go.
And the worst part of it all, the selfish part, I was finally happy.
Maybe only for a night, but last night was the first time I actually felt whole.
I know I shouldn’t be making this about me, and I would never tell another soul, but I’m so fucking sad.
I feel as though so much has been taken from me, even though I have no right to feel that way. It’s all a confusing mess.
I've been up in Gracie’s hospital room whilst Tommy is sitting downstairs in Maya’s.
The doctor is currently in there with her, and I thought I'd give the lovebirds a bit of space alone when he leaves.
Gracie is okay, though. She's awake, just inconsolable.
It all happened so fast; he hit her in the middle of the club, surrounded by people, and no one saw it happen.
I knew I always hated the guy, but this now goes far beyond hate. He deserves to rot in hell for all the torment he is causing.
Once Gracie has calmed down and is wrapped up in Blair's arms, I head down to check in on my brother and Maya.
I need a minute of silence by myself first. Just the one.
To take in everything and to feel my own emotions before putting on my usual charade.
Heading to the stairwell, I sit on the top step and bury my face in my hands.
A silent tear escapes my eye that I bat away quickly.
Come on, Fallon. Get over yourself.
I try to control my increasingly shaky breathing when the lower door to the staircase opens. I jump to my feet and end up stumbling, slipping down a step and landing back on my arse.
“Oh fucking hell,” I groan out.
My coccyx hits the hard edge of the step. Fuck, that is going to bruise.
“Fallon?” A voice calls from the bottom step.
Not just any voice.
Lukes.
Slowly, I lift my head to take in the man standing below me. Just as gorgeous and as irresistible as ever. And without thinking it through clearly, I jump to my feet and run out the same door I came from. Ignoring my name being called from behind.
Shit. Fuck. Urg!
What the bloody hell is wrong with me? Why can't I act normally? I have to be the fricking weirdo girl all the time. It’s like a magic power I can't control. Not knowing where to go next, I pass by Gracie’s room again, but stop at the door when I see the police are in there with her, more than likely taking a statement.
Now what am I going to do? I can’t use the stairs, and I can't go to the lift near the stairs.
So I carry on walking in the hopes I find another lift.
After ten minutes of strolling through the corridors, I find myself outside Maya's room. Luckily, the time it has taken to get here has helped me to get my emotions under control.
“Knock, knock,” I say as I rush into the room.
She is sitting up in bed, looking awfully pale, but freshly showered. With Tommy only a step away from her, also with damp hair. How I never knew how madly in love these two were, I’ll never know. They're perfect together.
“Hi, Fal,” she says in a small voice.
“Hello, my gorgeous jellybean. How are you feeling now?” I ask, making my way to the other side of her bed.
She’s looking at the end of the bed and then back at me. Turning, my gaze locks onto the mysterious view. Luke is standing at the end of her bed with a clipboard in hand.
What are the fucking chances?
Then I realise why he always looked so familiar. This isn’t just my Luke… It’s Maya's doctor from the night of the accident.
“Oh, er, hi, Lu… Dr Smyth,” I mutter, my eyes dropping to the floor.
Please open up and eat me, right now.
“Hello, Miss Jackson. It’s so lovely to see you again,” he smiles.
Fucking smiles.
Like he hasn’t just seen me acting like a crumpled mess on the stairs. Could this day get any worse? Actually, I take that back. I don’t need any ideas going up into the universe.
“You too,” I say, then quickly turn to Maya. “Listen, Gracie is doing well, but the police are in there now, and they’ll be here soon. I just wanted to give you a heads up. Do you want me to stay with you, Maymay?”
She eyes me warily, like she is going to say no. Maybe she only needs Tommy with her now.
“I’ll be fine, Fal, don’t worry about me. I'm ready to get back home and sleep for a week,” she says with a weak smile. One that she's obviously using to placate me.
So I play along.
“Cabin home or Tommy's house, home?” I ask, raising my brow suggestively.
“Take me anywhere. I’m in need of a good sleep and a decent cup of tea,” she says.
“Oh god, me too. The tea and coffee in this place are gross.”
“I can always make you one from the staffroom if you prefer?” Luke asks from behind me. My back stiffens at the sound of his voice. For a second, I forgot he was in the room.
“Ye-yes. Please. If you don’t mind,” I stutter, not quite sure that being alone with the dreamy doctor is a very good idea, but I am in need of the good stuff. Coffee, that is.
I follow Luke out of the room, staying a step behind like a naughty schoolgirl ready for the cane. Maybe that’s the wrong metaphor, I don’t know what his kinks are, and he might just enjoy that.
It takes less than a minute to get there, and he holds the door open and ushers me inside. Luckily, there is no one else in here right now, probably too busy doing actual work rather than pestering me.
“Milk and sugar?” he asks, gesturing for me to take a seat on the plastic-covered couch.
“Yes, please, two,” I say as he starts getting to work.
“So…” he starts, his back to me. “Are we going to talk about what happened on the stairs? Or are we pretending it didn’t happen?”
“I vote for option two,” I offer, internally cringing.
“Hm,” is all the noise he makes.
“Hm?” I ask. “That’s it?”
“Yep. You don’t want to talk about why you ran away from me like you'd seen a ghost, so who am I to push you?”
“Okay… thanks?” I am so confused.
I'm not used to this shit. Why isn’t he pushing? Is it the doctor in him? I bet he's using reverse psychology, and it's bloody working.
He walks over and hands me a steaming cup of goodness, then takes a seat in the chair opposite me, eyeing me up and down.
“What?” I raise a brow. “I know I don’t look good right now, so don’t give me those come fuck me eyes.”
He chokes on a laugh.
“Fuck me eyes? That was never my intention,” he smiles before biting his bottom lip to hold it in.
Holy lord Jesus, what is it with him and being so irresistible? I scramble for words to make this situation a little less awkward.
“So, has it been a long day in the office for you?” I ask.
“Actually, it's my day off.” He replies.
“Do you have no social life and like to hang around here for fun?” I scrunch up my nose.
“Ha… no. I’m here because Tommy asked me to be. I don’t tend to set foot anywhere near this place unless I'm needed,” he smirks, probably thinking about the time he had to take me to be checked over for punching his face. “How is your hand by the way?”
“All healed. And you’ll be proud of me. I’ve refrained from punching anyone else since,” I say with an eye roll.
“That’s good to hear,” he says, his smile growing wider.
“How come Tommy called you? Is that a normal thing to do?” I ask.
“Technically, no, but with a patient like Maya, I knew she would need a familiar face when she got here. She's been through so much trauma in such a small amount of time, it makes sense for her to need some stability.”
“That’s really… nice.”
I'm trying with all my might not to gaze at him in a starstruck way, but how can I not when he's this bloody perfect? It’s not normal for him to be this good.
“Nice isn’t the word I’d imagine you would associate with me,” he says, his voice darkening as his eyes bounce between mine. Making a jolt of excitement rush through me.
“Oh, really, then what would you rather me say?” I ask a little breathlessly.
“Now, Fallon, that would be telling,” he winks.
I feel a flush fill my cheeks at the dirty words I used the night that we spent together.
And he is right, nice was definitely not one of them.
I would love to live that night all over again, to feel like I’m free, even just for a few hours.
The more I stare at him now, taking in his rugged hair and unshaved face, all I can picture is the ink that I know is hidden beneath his clothes.
“I will get you out on that date, Fallon. It would be easier to say yes now than have us both painfully wait for your conscience to give out,” he says, lounging back into his chair.
“You’re very sure of yourself, Dr Smyth,” I say, deflecting as much as I can.
“Oh no, Fallon. You’ve got it all wrong. I am very sure of you.”