Chapter Twenty-Seven Lena
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lena
I have a headache the size of the Grand Canyon, and every inch of my body hurts. I’m afraid to open my eyes, so I start by stretching out my fingers and toes, and even that aches.
What the fuck happened?
I feel like I fell off a cliff and was unlucky enough to survive.
I bend my knees and elbows and whimper with the ache of it. My shoulder is singing in pain.
“Someone’s waking up.” I don’t know that voice. “Take your time, Lena. Take it slow. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”
Three days?
That can’t be right.
“Gideon.” I try to say it out loud, but all that comes out is a croak.
“Here’s some water for that dry throat.” The top of my bed starts to rise, and when I’m somewhat sitting up, I blink my eyes open and scowl at the brightness of the fluorescent lights, but there’s a straw in front of my lips, so I lean in and take a pull of the cool water.
That feels good.
“I want Gideon.” I glance around the room. “Where am I?”
“The White House, of course,” the nurse says. “I’ll be right back.”
Why am I in Washington?
And where is my man? Where’s Willow?
Don’t panic. They’re probably around here somewhere. Grabbing food, or getting some fresh air.
I’m taking a deep breath, trying to calm down, when my father walks into the room and offers me an encouraging smile.
“Hi there, pumpkin,” he says. “I’m so damn glad you’re awake.”
“What’s going on?” I ask him as he sits on the bed, by my hip, and takes my hand in his. “Why am I here?”
“Do you remember the attack?”
The attack?
And then it comes back to me. We were at dinner, at the pub, and those men grabbed me.
“Oh, God, is Gideon okay? Did they hurt him?”
I sit up straight, panic shooting through me.
“Whoa, Lena, calm down.”
“Is. He. Okay?”
Dad nods and kisses me on the forehead. “He’s okay. No one was seriously hurt but you. Well, and the ones who tried to take you. I can’t tell you more than that right now. I don’t want you to stress yourself. You have a head injury, sweetheart, and you need to rest.”
I feel tears track down my cheeks.
“Dad, is it all over?”
“Yes, baby. That I can tell you. You’re home now, and you can get back to your life.”
I swallow hard.
Back to my life.
“My life is at that ranch, Dad.”
He shakes his head once, and then I hear my mom’s voice.
“Your life is here,” she says and crosses over to kiss my head. “I’m so glad you’re awake. You worried me.”
“Where is Gideon?” I ask her.
“I assume he’s in Montana,” she replies simply, as if my world isn’t falling apart. “And you’re where you belong.”
“Mom—”
“No.” Her voice is sharp now, and I shut my mouth because I know there’s no talking to her when she’s like this. “Get some rest. We’ll move you upstairs out of the infirmary later today.”
“I’d like to go home.”
I need to go to the ranch.
“You can move into your apartment in a few days, once you’re well on your way to recovery.”
“Has Chelsea been in to see me?”
Mom and Dad share a glance, but they don’t answer me, and that pisses me off.
“We’ll be back,” Mom says. “I have a press conference.”
They both walk out, and I’m left with no answers.
“I need my phone,” I say to the nurse, who’s walked back in to check my vitals.
“It’s right here,” she replies, setting the device on the bed next to me. “You really should nap.”
“I’ve been asleep for days,” I remind her. “I think I’m fine.”
Picking up the phone, I go right to my contacts, but they’re gone.
I have literally no contacts.
“I was told that it’s a new phone,” she says with a wink.
Why do I need a new phone? And where’s my old one?
I’m feeling sleepy again, and that frustrates me, but I let the nurse lay me back, and I close my eyes.
It’s been two weeks since I woke up.
I’m back in my apartment, and I hate it.
Not that I’m not in a great part of town, in a beautiful building. I have a new security detail, and no one will tell me where Richie is. No one will give me Gideon’s number, and when I tried to google it, I got an immediate call from my mother telling me to stop.
What the fuck? They’re monitoring my internet use?
Mom has been much more attentive since I’ve been back. Every minute of her day is always scheduled to the second, but she finds time to call or text me, just to check in. I know that what happened in Montana scared her, and I understand that, but why are they keeping me from Gideon?
And why isn’t he burning the world to the ground to get to me?
None of this makes sense.
Not to mention, I haven’t heard even one peep out of anyone. And it reminds me how fucking isolated I am in my life. I don’t want Chelsea back in my orbit. She’s toxic as fuck, and I’m so much better off without her.
But I miss Willow and Ryker. And oh my God, every bit of me aches for Gideon.
He’s my person.
Is it because I fucked up again? It was my fault that we went to that dinner. Willow and I talked him into it. I just wanted to celebrate my man’s birthday, and it all fell apart in the worst way. I just had to have it, he caved and gave it to me, and it blew up in our faces.
Hell, I wouldn’t want to be with me either.
But God, how I miss him.
To keep myself busy, I’ve been sketching like a madwoman, and I even decided to reach out to my favorite gallery to see if they’d exhibit some of my work under a pseudonym, and I’m meeting with them later this afternoon.
It’ll be a soft launch, since I’m not well known, but the fact that they agreed to give me gallery space meant a lot to me.
It sucks that no one I care about will be there.
Fuck, I’m lonely.
There’s a knock on my door, and I open it to find Bishop standing there.
“Hello, Lena. I just have some questions for you, if you have time.”
“I have nothing but time. Come on in.” I step back, giving him room to pass. “This is convenient because I have some questions for you too.”
We walk into the living room and have a seat across from each other.
“How are you feeling?” he asks me.
“Fine. I have headaches once in a while, but I’m told that’s normal.”
He nods. “Good. I’m glad you’re healing. Lena, I have to ask questions about Chelsea.”
I frown over at him. “Is she in trouble?”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t know.”
My stomach rolls. I never know anything.
“Well, why don’t you tell me?”
Bishop blows out a breath and pulls his hand down his face. “Chelsea was the one responsible for feeding information to the people who tried to take you.”
No.
“She was having an affair with Rogers, and he was feeding her drug addiction in exchange for inside information on your whereabouts.”
This is impossible.
“She’s currently in jail, awaiting trial, and she’ll end up in prison for the rest of her life for treason.”
I’m simply staring at him, not even blinking. I don’t want Chelsea in my life anymore, but I wouldn’t wish this on her. She was on . . . their side? She was my best friend!
“This is impossible.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s not. It’s the truth. I need to ask questions about specific times and dates that the two of you were together and what she was privy to.”
“She was privy to fucking everything. She was my best friend. My only friend, thanks to this fucked-up life I live. Jesus.” I stand and pace the room, my heart hammering. “She could have had me killed. She could have had Gideon killed.”
I hate that her weakness was used against her, but she knew that I would get hurt, and she didn’t care.
She didn’t care.
I spin and stare at Bishop, who’s now also standing.
“Please tell me he’s okay. Dad said he is, but—”
“He’s in Montana,” Bishop says with a nod. “The three of them are safe, Lena.”
My shoulders drop in relief. “Why isn’t he here? Or better yet, why am I not there? No one will fucking talk to me, and I can’t get his number.”
Bishop’s face is hard, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to answer me.
“Please talk to me. I’m not a child, Bishop. I deserve to know what in the hell is going on.”
He’s quiet for so long, I’m convinced he’s not going to answer me, and my heart sinks.
Finally, he whispers, “Shit,” and sits down again.
“You’re here because your mother wanted you to be here. The threat was eliminated, and it was time for you to come home. Gideon is in Montana because that’s where he lives, Lena.”
I shake my head. “You know what I’m asking you. He would not just abandon me. If my mom insisted I come back here, he would have come with me. Why isn’t he here, Bishop?”
“Because he was given very specific orders to not be here,” he replies. “Not because he didn’t want you, Lena. He was a fucking mess in that hospital. I’ve never seen him like that.”
Oh, thank God.
He didn’t abandon me.
“We don’t question the commander in chief’s orders. We follow those orders to a T. It’s what we do. He left that night because he’d been given the order to do so, but that isn’t what he wanted.”
Tears fill my eyes, and I cover my mouth with my hands, holding the sobs in.
“What do I do?” The question comes out as a hoarse whisper. “I want to be in Montana. I need to be with him.”
“I think you need to take a little time,” he replies slowly. “You’re still healing, and if you’re going to fight your mother for what you want, you need to be at the top of your game for that.”
He’s not wrong.
“Keep getting well. Work on your art. If you want, I’ll set you up with a therapist to help you navigate all this, and when the time is right, Gideon will be there. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere.”
“I want to call him. I need to tell him what the plan is and hear his voice. I was with him every single day for weeks, and now nothing? This isn’t right, Bishop.”
He nods slowly. “Gid’s not taking calls right now.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”
“He’s shut off his phone. He’s back to work, and he’s isolating. He’s healing too, Lena.”
My heart aches. Fuck, poor Gideon.
“If this were any other situation, I’d call him and get him on a plane. Or I’d send you out there. I’m on your side in this, but if you tell your mother that, I’ll deny it.”
My lips twitch.
“But it’s not normal circumstances,” I murmur, glancing out my windows.
“No. It isn’t.”
“I’ll follow your advice. I’ll work on myself. I think I have an art exhibit happening, but no one will know it’s mine. I’m working under a pseudonym. That’s the deadline, Bishop. Because after that day, I’m moving to Montana, whether my mother likes it or not.”
His lips twitch. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Bishop smile before.
“That’s a good plan. I’d like to know more about that exhibit.”
“All the contacts were removed from my phone. Otherwise, I’d call you.”
That news has him pausing, a crease forming between his eyebrows.
“May I see?”
I pass it to him, and he taps the screen. He sets my phone aside and taps his own phone, then puts it up to his ear.
“Reinstate Blackbird’s contacts immediately.”
Holy shit, Bishop’s on my side!
For the first time in two weeks, I don’t feel so alone. I don’t feel like everything I love is lost to me.
I have a plan.
I like having a plan.
He shuts my phone off, then turns it back on and passes it to me.
Magically, all my contacts are back.
“Thank you. It’s not like I call many people—”
“It doesn’t matter. That’s yours, and no one has the right to take that away. My number is in there. If you need anything, call me.”
“Please give me Gideon’s number,” I say, my voice strong. “I need it.”
After another pause, he takes my phone back and programs it in.
“I’m not lying to you, or trying to hurt your feelings,” Bishop says. “I haven’t been able to reach him since I left Montana.”
“I understand.”
He nods and stands, and once he’s gone, I let myself have a good cry.
I wish he was here.
But now I have his number. He probably doesn’t want to hear from me. If what Bishop said is true, he won’t read anything I send him, or answer my calls.
Gideon is my person. After all that time together, he’s the one I confide in the most. He knows everything about me, inside and out. That man is the only one I want to talk to.
So after wiping the tears from my cheeks, I open a new text thread and start talking to him.
Me: God, I miss you so much.
I hit send. It doesn’t deliver.
Bishop wasn’t lying.
After taking a long breath, I type some more.
Me: It’s been two weeks since I saw you, and it’s freaking killing me, Gideon. I hate it so much. I get it, though. Now that I’ve talked to Bishop, I understand why you’re not here, but I miss you and the ranch so much. This isn’t the end for us.
I hit send, and with a renewed sense of determination, I pick myself up off the floor and get to work.