18. Callie
eighteen
Callie
The floor appears miles away as I dangle above the crowd. Strobe lights flash, and music blares. I try screaming for help, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
The steady bass of the music vibrates around me and loosens my fingers one by one as they slip from the ring. My stomach lurches as I freefall.
I wake with a jerk, blinking back at the harsh fluorescent light overhead.
The starchy sheets beneath my hands and the steady beep of the ECG machine inform me I’m lying in a hospital bed. Memories of the fall flood my brain and make it throb.
It wasn’t a dream. I move to rub my head, but the tug on my wrist from the IV stops me. My range of motion is limited with the cervical collar on, but when I wiggle my toes, I take consolation, knowing I can still walk.
The hospital room door opens, and a familiar smiling face walks in.
“There you are, superstar,” Doctor Taylor says, using a soft voice I very much appreciate. She’s wearing a white medical coat, with a stethoscope around her neck this time. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this.”
It hurts to laugh, but with the brace around my neck, I manage with little pain. “I’d really like that.”
“Me too.” She walks over to the bed and lays her warm hand on mine, proving cold doctor’s hands are a myth. “Do you remember what happened, Callie?”
“Yeah, I, uh… I fell doing a stunt at rehearsals.” I wince at the memory of falling. My stomach flips, and a wave of nausea rolls through me.
Doctor Taylor hands me a cup of ice chips, observing my movements. “Callie, I’m going to start with doing a vitals check, and then I’ll fill you in on what happened. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Taylor opens her tablet, making notes as she reads the ECG, takes my pulse, checks my oxygen levels, and listens to my lungs. She flashes a penlight in my eyes, and I wince. She explains that she’s checking for signs of concussion, but I want to shove that light up her ass. It’s so damn bright it makes my eyes burn and my head pound.
“You gave us a scare there for a minute. I’ve never seen Eli so distraught before. He was going out of his mind with worry.”
Eli. How could I forget about him?
I search the room for the man. He’s not here . His absence is like a weight on my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
He left. He promised he wouldn’t leave.
Tears sting my eyes. I don’t know if I’m more disappointed in him for breaking his promise or myself for taking his absence so personally.
“Oh, hun.” Taylor takes a seat in the visitor chair beside me. “Breathe. Eli’s coming right back. He didn’t want to leave you, but he said there was something he needed to do. He made me promise to be here in case you woke up before he returned.”
He’s coming back .
Her words bring a tidal wave of relief as I breathe like she asked until the ache goes away and my breathing returns to normal.
“Thank you.” There are so few people I trust, and twice now, Taylor has gone out of her way to care for me. Sure, it was at Eli’s request, but she didn’t have to check on me or be so kind.
“You’re welcome.” Taylor’s smile is genuine, and it puts me at ease as I lie in bed, vulnerable and hurt. I don’t let anyone see me like this. I can’t, for so many reasons.
“If there is anything I can do for you—tickets, an appearance at your niece’s or nephew’s birthday party—please let me know. I’m so grateful for your kindness and discretion.”
Taylor chuckles. “You sound like Eli.”
“I do?”
“Oh yeah. For as long as I’ve known him, Eli has collected and exchanged favors with people.”
My eyes widen in surprise at this new bit of information. What does she mean, trades favors? Like, sexual?
Taylor blanches at the look on my face. “That sounds so bad. It’s not like that. Nothing nefarious, I swear. Eli’s a good guy. The best. Think of his favors more like him trading goods and resources. It’s how he pays his gratitude forward.”
“Wow. I, uh, didn’t know.”
“Few do. He doesn’t like people getting the wrong idea.”
“I get that.” I’m guilty of thinking the worst, which is dumb.
I know what kind of man Eli is, and he would never blackmail someone. He might be rude and a little cocky, but not once have I heard whispers of him being anything but professional and well respected in the business.
“Now, to business.” She opens her pad and pulls up my chart. “Luck was on your side, Callie. The X-ray didn’t reveal any breaks or fractures. Your head CT came back clean, which means no brain bleed. Your heart rate, oxygen levels, and blood pressure are all in the normal range. How do you feel?”
“Um…” Pressing my palms into the bed, I risk moving into a seated position. I hiss at the shooting pain in my butt and lower back.
“Take it easy.” The good doctor hands me the remote and shows me how to adjust the bed. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“No problem. Now, tell me. How are you feeling?
“Aside from the pain in my ass?” I groan.
Taylor covers her mouth, attempting to maintain her professionalism. “Yes, aside from your butt pain.”
“My neck feels stiff, and my head hurts. But I’ll survive.”
“You will. You’re a strong woman. The stiffness, bruising, and headache will all go away. If it wasn’t for Eli catching you, I’m not sure you would walk away with only whiplash.”
“Wait, what do you mean he caught me?”
“Somehow, Eli got under you just in time. Caught you under your knees and your back before you hit, but the force was too much for him to erase the impact, so your backside hit the ground, and your head snapped back as he fell to his knees. He’s lucky he didn’t get hurt. It was a dangerous move on his part, but if he hadn’t…” She lets the rest of the sentence hang, but no explanation is needed.
I could have died . But I didn’t because he saved me. Without a second thought, he put himself in danger to save me.
Elijiah Miller saved me.
“He sure did,” my doctor says with a grin.
My cheeks heat; I’m embarrassed by my not-so-silent thoughts.
“I’m going to give you a painkiller to help you sleep a little more comfortably. It will also help with the headache. Is that okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“My pleasure, Callie. I’ll send the nurse in with your medication in just a few. Get some rest, and I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon.”
She walks out, leaving me to sift through the flurry of thoughts in my head and emotions battling in my chest.
Eli caught me. I can’t believe he would do something so risky to save me. Does he care more than he lets on? You wouldn’t put yourself in danger for just anyone, right?
As promised, a young nurse with kind eyes enters my room and inserts a syringe into my IV bag. The drug doesn’t take long to make its way through my system, and I slip into a deep sleep faster than I can count to ten.
A deep, gruff voice has me blinking my eyes open. My head feels better as I adjust to the sunlight pouring into the room.
Eli is pacing back and forth in front of the door, frustration rolling off him in waves as he holds his cell phone to his ear.
“This wasn’t an accident.”
What wasn’t an accident?
“She’s a little banged up. Doc says whiplash, bruising. But she’s okay.” He sighs, and I can hear the exhaustion in his voice. He’s talking about me. “I’m good.”
Like a spy, I lie quietly, listening to Eli’s one-sided conversation.
“How long does it take to look at the fucking footage? It’s been hours, for fuck’s sake,” Eli whisper-shouts, making me wince.
Who the hell is he yelling at?
The voice on the other end doesn’t appreciate his tone and shouts something back. I can’t make out the words, but whoever it is has Eli pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, Mase.”
I watch as Eli listens to the person on the other end of the line. He looks angry and tired. His hair is damp, and his clean, manly cologne is strong like he showered not too long ago. He’s changed into a pair of dark jeans and a charcoal-gray T-shirt that looks a little tight around his biceps, and his scruff is a little fuller than the five o’clock shadow he usually wears.
My lady bits tingle at the sight of him. I don’t know how he looks hotter in regular clothes, especially when he looks like sex on a stick when he’s in a suit, but he does.
“Yes, I’m fucking sure, Mase. I went back with a friend. He has experience with stunt work, and he inspected the cables and harness. He’s damn sure someone tampered with the rigging. The wires were sliced, and both the turnbuckles and descenders were jammed. The entire contraption was damaged. Someone wanted her … to fall.”
My blood runs cold as Eli stops before finishing his sentence. Someone didn’t just want me hurt; they wanted me dead.
“Yeah, I’ll hold,” he grumbles. He turns his body in my direction, and I slam my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep. If Eli knows I’m awake, he will hang up on whomever he’s talking to. He’d try to protect me by keeping the truth from me.
“I’m here.” He pauses, listening to the voice on the other end. “What the fuck do you mean, you can’t see his face? There are ten goddamned cameras, Mason. One of them had to catch something.”
I listen as Eli and that Mason guy go back and forth discussing what happened yesterday. Turns out, I passed out after the fall, and between the pain meds and my body’s exhaustion, I’ve been out for almost twenty-four hours.
“We land tonight. I’ll text when we’re en route.”
We ? He’s taking a trip somewhere? With someone?
Tears sting the back of my throat at the thought of Eli and who knows who leaving me behind. This hurts worse than finding out there is someone out there who wants me gone.
Footsteps on the linoleum floor grow closer, and the cheap leather of the chair beside me creaks. Eli slips his fingers through mine. His touch sends a surge of energy up my arm and settles behind my breastplate.
Holy shit, he’s holding my hand.
Butterflies swirl in my stomach as I slowly open my eyes to find him staring at me.
“Hey,” I croak.
“Hey, princess.”
A smile plays on my lips at the nickname. A nickname I used to hate but now can’t wait to hear roll off his tongue.
Eli exhales, and his shoulders fall from his ears. With his free hand, he swipes a lock of my hair from my face. “Fuck, am I glad to see you smile. You were asleep for far too long. You know Hudson would kill me if I lost his favorite client, right?”
My smile falters for a second. I see what he’s doing. And yet, he saved me. He feels something. He can deny it all he wants, but here he is, still holding my hand.
Shaking off his attempt at putting distance between us, I keep my smile in place. “I’m pretty sure you’d be sad without me too.”
Eli huffs a short-lived laugh. “Maybe.”
“You like me, and you know it,” I tease. I lift my free hand and poke his cheek with my index finger. “I’m growing on you.”
“Knock it off.” He bats my hand away.
“Admit it, and I’ll leave you alone.” I jab his forehead. “Say you like me.” I boop his nose. “Come on, say it.”
“You’re ridiculous.” Eli bites back a smile.
“Say it.” Without thinking, I flick his bottom lip down. His very silky-soft and warm lip.
Touching his mouth was a bad idea. A really bad idea. Terrible. Now, all I want is to know how it feels trapped between my lips and teeth as he kisses me.
Tearing my eyes away from his mouth, I look up to find him frozen in his seat, heat swirling in his eyes as he stares back at me. His blue-green orbs bounce from my eyes to my mouth and back.
Eli leans forward, inches separating us.
Go for it , my brain hisses at him.
With everything that’s happened, I don’t want to waste any more time not taking a chance. Even if Eli rejects me, at least I’ll know and I can move on, right?
The world stops as Eli comes close enough that I can feel his breath on my lips. I bow forward, ready to kiss him, to submit to my desire for him—and only him—when an excruciating stab of pain in my neck stops me with a yelp.
Reaching for my neck, I close my eyes and breathe through the pain.
“Fuck.” Eli lets go of my hand to press the call button for the nurse. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just a little whiplash,” I grit.
“It’s not fine. You could have died.” He stands from the chair, gripping his hair, and moves to the foot of my bed. The internal struggle over yesterday’s events is making its way outward.
“But I didn’t because you saved me.”
He whips his head around, shocked at my words. “You know?”
“I know,” I whisper.
We stare at each other, the tension between us thick and heated. I want to scream at him to say something. Anything.
His mouth moves as the nurse enters the room, oblivious to the stare-off happening between me and Eli. Her presence sucks all the energy from the room, and whatever was on the tip of his tongue.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Wright?” she asks, rushing to my side.
“Nothing. Just a little twinge.”
“Twinge, my ass,” Eli snaps, his eyes narrowed at me.
I know that look. I’ve been on the receiving end way too many times.
“Zip it, Eli,” I snap at him. He’s so damn frustrating. We went from almost kissing to him growling at me in seconds.
He ignores me and speaks to the nurse like I’m not here. “She’s in pain and won’t admit her neck hurts.”
I stare daggers at him. “She is right here and can speak for herself.”
“Then admit you’re experiencing pain.” His demanding tone hits me right at the apex of my thighs. I hate how he gets my blood boiling with his controlling attitude. “Admit it,” he growls like an angry animal.
Half of me wants to slap him for being so bossy and condescending, while the other half wants to shut him up by riding his gorgeous face.
“Admit you like me.”
Our eyes clash like swords in battle.
Admit it, you stubborn jerk.
“Calliope.” He says my name like a warning and my body reacts, desire rushing through me.
“Elijiah,” I reply in the same tone.
His chest rises and falls in a mesmerizing rhythm.
Unsure of what to do, the nurse’s head ricochets between the two of us.
“Knock, knock.” Doctor Taylor breezes into the room, flipping through the stack of papers in her hand, unaware of Eli glowering at me. “How’s my favorite patient?”
I keep my eyes on Eli and answer her. “I’m doing much better, thank you.”
Eli’s eye twitches and the gold flecks burn like embers in a fire, and not from being turned on. No, this time, he’s pissed.
“She’s lying. Her neck hurts,” he grits out. He hinges forward and places his fists beside my feet, daring me to challenge him. “She needs pain meds.”
“No, I don’t,” I grind out. If he wants a fight, then that’s what he’s going to get. “I’d like to go home now.”
From the corner of my eye, I watch Taylor cover her mouth with her papers, hiding her smile.
“No,” Eli snaps.
Who the hell does he think he is ? He’s getting ready to jet off to who knows where. Why the hell can’t I go home?
“No?” I scoff.
“That’s what I said, princess.” His snotty attitude returns, fortifying my resolve.
“Too. Bad.” I don’t know what it is about Eli, but when I’m with him, I want to fight. I want to prove that I’m strong and won’t back down to a challenge.
“Wow,” Taylor interrupts, fanning her face. “While this is really fun, and hot as hell to watch, let’s all just calm down. Callie?” I turn my attention to her. “I’m guessing you don’t like the strong stuff because it makes you groggy, so I’m going to prescribe you some extra-strong Tylenol and some muscle relaxers. Take them as needed.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. At least someone is listening to me.
Taylor turns to Eli and shoves the stack of papers in her hand into his face. “These are her discharge papers, prescription, and some notes on care in case she experiences any other symptoms. She needs lots of rest, so chill out. Got it?”
He snatches the papers from her hand and stands up. Even though he’s no longer looming over me, his cold, hard attitude is taking up all the space in the room. “Got it.”
Taylor angles her body away from Eli so only I can see her. She wiggles her brows at me and mouths, Wow .
I fight a smile. She’s not wrong. Eli might be a bigger pain than the bruises currently on my ass, but he’s a sexy pain. A pain I would gladly experience. Repeatedly.
“Will you please go get a wheelchair?” Taylor asks the nurse then turns to me, stopping me mid-protest. “Hospital policy.”
“Fine.” I nod, too tired to fight with her or anyone else.
She walks around the bed to where the IV is inserted into my hand and gently removes the needle, and leaves the ball of gauze and medical tape covering the small wound.
Eli watches, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug smile. I stick my tongue out at him.
He mumbles, “Brat,” under his breath, but I hear him just fine.
“Ass.”
His eyebrows lift to his hairline.
We glare at one another until Doctor Taylor speaks, breaking the moment. “You two?” She fans her face. “Hot, hot, hot. But I need you to take that somewhere else, and I need to call my husband.” She hustles out of the room, talking to herself about a video call during lunch as the nurse enters with the wheelchair.
“Here we go, Miss Wright. Would you like me to help you get dressed, or can you manage on your own?” the nurse asks.
I look at Eli, who—without even saying it—demands I let her help me.
“Help would be great, thank you.” I look down at my gown with a frown. The last thing I was wearing was that stupid leotard and leggings. “Wait.”
“There are clothes for you in your bag.” Eli points at the lavender duffle bag sitting on the small guest chair on my other side. “I just grabbed whatever I could from your dressing room. You can buy whatever else you need when we get to Portland.”
Portland?
I don’t have time to ask when the nurse grabs my bag and pulls out a pair of sweats, a bralette, and a T-shirt. She asks Eli to leave the room, but he refuses and turns his back, giving me privacy.
My heart beats wildly in my chest at his reluctance to let me out of his sight. I sit on the edge of the bed and let the nurse help me get dressed. I have to admit it was harder than I thought to put the clothes on—with help. I have no idea what I’m going to do later when I need to shower.
When I’m ready, I turn to Eli, taking in his strong back, tapered waist, and firm butt. I’m not the only one appreciating his backside when I turn to find the nurse ogling him too.
Irrational jealousy has me snapping at her. “You can go.”
“Sorry,” she mumbles, her cheeks flaming red as she hustles from the room, leaving me alone with Eli.
He spins, looking at me in question. “What was that about?”
“Nothing. Can we go now?” I slowly place my feet on the floor to stand, but the pain makes it hard for me to do so without flinching and wobbling like a newly walking toddler.
Eli is at my side in four steps, lifting me into his arms bridal style.
“I could have done it.”
“Yeah, but this way is faster.” He places me in the wheelchair.
“Whatever,” I mumble. “What’s this about Portland?”
He walks over and grabs my bag, placing the strap over his shoulder before returning to me. “I’m taking you out of LA.”
“Why?”
Eli squats down, bringing us eye to eye. “You need some time to recover, and we need to talk.”
His words are like a bucket of ice-cold water. “About?”
He sighs hard enough that I can taste his minty breath on my tongue. “A lot of shit, Callie.”
A prickling sensation skates over my skin, giving me shivers. We do have a lot to talk about. There’s so much he doesn’t know. He’s probably going to hate me for lying all these years.
But before we can, I need to make a stop. “Can we make a small pit stop before we go?”
He stares into my eyes, trying to decode my thoughts. “Depends.”
“On?”
“On where you want to go. You can’t go back to your apartment,” he says flatly, leaving no room for discussion.
If he thinks I’m going to fight him on that, he’s wrong. The penthouse is not home. I lost that a long time ago.
“Good thing it’s not my apartment, then,” I muse.
“Should I be worried?” he asks.
“No.” But I am.
Eli deserves to know the full truth. He needs to know about what happened all those years ago. Dread settles like a ball of toxic vomit in my stomach, waiting to be expelled. How he reacts to my truth will define how we move forward. If we move forward.
“Here, put these on.” Eli hands me the same Evaders’ hat I wore to our dinner and a large pair of aviators that probably belong to him.
“Does it really matter? Everyone probably already knows I’m here,” I moan.
“They don’t. Now, hurry.”
“How?” I place the hat on my head.
This time, he grazes his fingers over the lobe of my ear as he tucks a strand of my curling hair behind it. Goosebumps break out across my skin at his touch.
“Because I’m the best damn agent in Hollywood, and I have the best damn people working for me,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Cocky much?” I cover my eyes with sunglasses.
Eli chuckles as he stands up and grabs the handles of the wheelchair. “I’m not being cocky. Just stating facts.”
Behind the shades, I roll my eyes at his overconfident response as he pushes me out of the room towards the elevator. No one notices us as we leave the hospital or as Eli lifts me into the passenger seat of his car.
He climbs in and turns on the engine. “Where to?”
“Malibu,” I whisper just loud enough for him to hear.
Eli hums as he shifts the car into drive and pulls away from the hospital’s secret entrance.
Part one of my confession is coming right up.