Chapter 2 #2
My mind wanders back to Jess, but instead of picturing her lying in her hospital bed, I recall the first time I laid eyes on her, and the smile she gave me. I didn’t return it, and that caused hers to slip from her face. The next time she saw me, she didn’t smile. She just stared, and so did I.
I’d give anything for a fucking redo.
Do anything in my power to keep her smiling at me.
A more noble man would continue to cut the checks and disappear to let Tori figure it all out on her own, knowing deep down my presence will bring no good to an already impossible situation. But I’ve never been noble, and I ain’t about to start now.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say.
The words don’t come out as convincing as I intended, yet Tori’s head still snaps up, surprise flickering across her face.
“We?”
“I’ll cover all her medical expenses, and you make all decisions regarding her care.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “Unless you’ve got a better idea.”
Tori stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the war playing out behind her eyes—the instinct to keep hating me versus the desperate need to do what’s best for Jess.
“How will that work when everyone here thinks you’re her husband? I mean, they’re not going to listen to me.”
I’m more worried about what will happen when people around here start asking questions, and they realize I’m not Jess’s husband, but I keep that much to myself.
“I’ll speak with her team of doctors and give them permission to discuss her treatment plan with you. If that doesn’t work, you just tell me what you decide, and I’ll convey the message to them. Whatever you say goes.”
She studies me for a long moment before finally speaking again. “I don’t like this, but I’ll do whatever needs to be done to see Jess through this, even if that means working with you.”
I cock my head to the side. “Didn’t think I needed to remind you, but you remember you work for me, right? I might not oversee your daily duties, but I’m a partial owner of The Hideaway, and I sign your paycheck every week.”
“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”
I shake my head. “Like I said, it’s just a reminder. You’re so worried about working with me, when you already work for me.”
“This is different. I can find another job, but Jess can’t find her way out of this without both of us.”
I nod sharply. “Glad you see it that way.”
She exhales, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders.
“I have one condition, though.” Her voice is quiet but steady as she meets my gaze. She’s ballsy as fuck, and under different circumstances I might applaud her for her efforts.
“Let’s hear it.”
“The second Jess wakes up, I want you gone. You can continue to pay her bills, but your presence around her isn’t welcome. You don’t get to be the hero in her story. You don’t get to be anything to her.”
Everything in me wants to argue. I’m nobody’s hero, least of all Jess’s, but walking away from her isn’t something I’m sure I can do. If I could, she wouldn’t have been working in that bar.
“Fine,” I growl. The single word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Suddenly, a throat clears behind us, and both our heads snap toward the sound. Standing in the mouth of the waiting room is one of Jess’s doctors, and he’s flanked by two other people, neither of whom I’m familiar with.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Holland, but I was hoping to catch you before you left.”
There doesn’t appear to be any urgency in the manner in which he says it, but my stomach still drops.
“Is everything okay?”
“For the moment, yes. My team and I feel your wife is stable enough for us to perform the first excision.”
Every muscle in my shoulders goes rigid, and my spine straightens.
I don’t know why those words have me on edge.
Jess being stable enough to undergo her first surgery is good news.
It’s the first step in her recovery. Yet all I can do is stare at the doctor and wonder if he’s capable.
I’ve always been a man of action. If something is broken, I fix it.
If there’s an obstacle standing in my way, I remove it.
It’s a control thing, and right now I’m fucking helpless and at the mercy of the man standing before me.
It’s his hands that are gonna be doing the fixing, and that realization has me itching to wrap mine around his throat. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him I’ll kill him and his whole family if Jess dies on his watch, but I manage to keep my crazy at bay.
“Okay,” I say, my voice raw. “When?”
The doctor glances at the two people flanking him—a man in a cheap suit with a clipboard and a woman wearing a lanyard around her neck and a practiced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Ideally, we’d like to go in as soon as possible.” He adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “It’s just a matter of housekeeping, so to speak.”
“Housekeeping,” I repeat flatly. What the fuck does that mean? Do they not have a fucking room for her?
The doctor gestures to the man on his left.
“This is Mr. Reeves, our hospital administrator.” Then to the woman.
“And Ms. Calloway, Mrs. Holland’s case manager.
” He pauses, something shifting in his expression before his eyes meet mine again.
“It is our understanding that Mrs. Holland doesn’t have insurance. ”
“That’s right.” I keep my tone steady as I fight the urge to ball my fists. “I wrote a check the day after she was admitted and told the people down at the registrar that I would cover all her medical expenses.”
Mr. Reeves steps forward, tapping his clipboard with a pen. “Yes, we have that on file.” His eyes don’t lift from the clipboard he’s holding, and that irks me. “However, the check you wrote doesn’t cover the current balance.”
I stare at him. “Come again?”
“Between the ICU stay, the ventilator, the medications, the burn unit resources . . .” His voice trails as he flips the page on top of the clipboard. “The account is in the negative. We can’t proceed with the surgery until the balance is brought current.”
I wrote a check for fifty grand. Cleared out my fucking savings, and this prick bastard is telling me it’s all gone.
“How much?” My voice sounds dangerously low even to my own ears, and I watch Reeves’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
“The current balance is negative twelve thousand, four hundred and thirty-seven dollars. The surgical excision, plus the anticipated skin grafts and post-op care, will bring the total projected cost to?—”
“Give me the fucking number.”
He flips another page. “Roughly eighty to ninety thousand for the first procedure alone, and that is a conservative projection.”
Tori makes a sound beside me, but I don’t look at her. I can’t. I need to think. I don’t have ninety thousand lying around. I’m gonna have to tap into the club’s funds. It’s the only way to get the money quickly.
My gaze bounces between Reeves and Jess’s doctor. “I need a couple of hours to get the money. In the meantime, prep her for surgery.”
Reeves scoffs. “It doesn’t work like that.”
The little bit of control I was hanging onto snaps, and I take a step toward the pencil-pushing prick.
“I don’t really give a fuck how it works for everyone else in this place, but my wife is going to get that surgery before the day is over.
You’ll get your fucking money. Just put her on the fucking list or whatever it is that you people do.
” My gaze cuts to the doctor. “And as for you . . . you better pray to whatever God you believe in that those hands of yours are worth every penny I’m about to give you because if anything happens to my wife, I will end you. ”