Every Breath (24 page)

Dalton steps out in the hallway to speak to the surgeon while the nurses hook up his monitors. I guess everyone has heard that I got him beat up, judging by the dirty looks one of the nurses is giving me.

“Thanks, ladies, I’ll take it from here.” Dalton shoos them out and shuts the door. “Dr. Velasquez says the surgery went fine. He’ll probably have a nice scar to go with the rest of them, but it should heal nicely. He actually should be able to go home tomorrow, as long as they’re able to put his hard cast on in the morning and he’s comfortable enough.”

I join Dalton at the side of the bed. “How long will he be asleep?”

“Uh . . .” He stops to look at his chart. “Probably not long. He wasn’t given anything real strong.”

I reach out to touch him, but I’m afraid to hurt him, so I end up resting my hand on the bed rail instead.

“Do you want to see? You don’t have to, but I thought it might help, so you’ll know where he’ll be sore.”

I nod, unable to speak.

Dalton pulls the sheet back slightly and pauses. “Umm, they haven’t put a gown on him yet, so if there are any parts you haven’t seen yet, we’ll keep this a strictly PG tour.”

“No, I, uh . . . I’ve had the full tour.” Dear Lord. Did I really just say that?

He snickers and pulls the sheet down to the top of his hips. All I want to do at this point is cry, and quite possibly kill Drew myself. He’s peppered in bruises, all ranging from bright red to nearly black. The one at his ribs is especially gruesome, and I know it has to hurt him to even breathe.

When Dalton pulls the sheet down over one of his hipbones, he looks confused for a second, and he walks around to the other side to inspect the other hip. “Mmmhmm.”

“What? Is something wrong?” I walk around to the other side of the bed.

He looks over at me, then down at my hands, and blushes ever-so-slightly. “Nope. I just think I found a souvenir . . . you know, from the grand tour.”

I peek under the edge of the blanket and see three perfectly parallel scratches along the outside of his hip, and I don’t really grasp what Dalton’s getting at until I see the matching set on the opposite side. He wasn’t looking at my hands; he was checking to see if I have fingernails. If I could crawl under this bed right now to hide my glowing, red face, I would.

Dalton clears his throat, fighting a smile while he pulls the sheet back up. “Uh, anyway, so as you see, he’s mainly just bruised. Once he’s ready to go home, I’ll give you some instructions that will help him stay a little more comfortable.”

I frown. “Okay.”

“Come here.” He pulls me into a hug and pats my back. “He’s not dying, Makenna. He’s just a little banged up. Don’t worry. You’ll feel better when he wakes up and talks to you. He doesn’t blame you for anything, I promise.”

Once Dalton is gone, I grab the blanket from the extra bed and drag the recliner chair right up next to Sawyer’s bed. Curling up in the seat, I rest my head at the edge of the mattress, hoping that, if he moves, I’ll feel it.

I should call my parents and update them, but first, I just want to talk to Sawyer. My whole world is stopped until he wakes up. Until I hear his voice, I can’t believe he’s okay. I can’t quell this nagging feeling that my worst nightmare has come true again.

“Please don’t ever leave me, Sawyer,” I whisper just before I fall asleep. “I love you.”

The shooting pain in my neck is a stark contrast to the soothing feeling of fingertips rubbing lightly across my forehead. I want to move, so my neck will stop hurting, but I don’t want that hand to leave me. Wait . . . who . . .

I jerk upright, feeling my neck pop in the process, and I nearly fling myself on top of him when I see Sawyer smiling down at me.

“Hey, darlin’.” His voice is more gravelly than usual. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I-I’m so sorry,” my voice cracks. “If I hadn’t brought you into this . . .”

“No, no, no. Don’t even say that. It’s
not
your fault. He’s a psychotic asshole that played you. You couldn’t have known any of this was going to happen. I’m just glad he came after
me
and not you. But I’m not so sure he won’t try. Don’t leave my side until they catch him, okay?”

I can tell he’s hiding something. “Why are you so worried about that? Did he say something?”

“No.”

“
Sawyer
. . .”

“Yeah, he did,” he growls. “He said that he would find a way to take you away like he had planned all along, and no one would ever find you again. But don’t worry; he’s going to have to kill me first for that to happen. He won’t get the best of me again.”

I huff at him. “What? Are you just going to stop sleeping completely now? You can’t do that. I’m sure he’s long gone now.”

“About that . . .” He looks down at his fingers entwined with mine. “That’s how he got in without me knowing. After what happened last night, I went home and took one of those pills, not realizing it would make me sleep so hard. When I left your house, I swore to myself I’d start taking them, so I wouldn’t be that way with you. It’s one thing to deal with those dreams on my own, but I won’t risk hurting you again.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? You know all about me, so it kind of hurts that you don’t trust me enough to talk to me about that.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I thought I was protecting you, but my plan backfired. I’ll tell you everything. Right now. There’s a lot more to it than just the nightmares. Just promise that you won’t think less of me.”

I shake my head emphatically and squeeze his hand. “Not today. We’ll have a nice long talk when you’re out of here and feeling better. Until then, I’m going to spend every minute of every day making this up to you. No matter how you spin it, I’m the reason this happened, and I want to take care of you.”

“Sweetheart, you can be my nurse any day. Do you do sponge baths?” The confused look sweeping across my face makes him chuckle. And then groan, clutching his side while his face contorts in a grimace. “Oh, shit. Don’t make me laugh.”

I hate seeing him in pain. I can’t stand seeing him lying in that bed, all bandaged up. He looks so fragile, so far from the usual strength and vigor that emanates from him. “What can I do? Do I need to see if you can have more pain meds?”

“No. I’m okay. I just have to remember not to laugh, cough, sneeze, or breathe. But one thing you
can
do is to lean down here.” He crooks his finger.

I scrunch my eyebrows at him, but I do what he says anyway.

“Closer. Much closer.”

I bend over him until I’m merely inches from his face.

“Kiss me.”

My eyes fall to his busted lip. “I can’t. It’ll hurt you.”

He uses his only good hand to grasp the back of my neck, pulling me down until our lips meet. It takes only seconds for me to forget about his hurt mouth. Hell, I even forget where we are when he catches my bottom lip between his teeth and then sucks on it gently. Kissing him holds a myriad of sensations. He’s soft and gentle one second, and then the next, he does things with his tongue that I swear I can feel deep in my belly. He leaves me blissfully dizzy, deliciously delirious, and perfectly breathless.

“I’m much better now,” he says softly against my lips. “I don’t feel a thing, except . . . happy.”

I kiss him once more at the corner of his mouth and wink. “Let me know when you need another dose.”

“I’m damn glad you’re here. I was dreaming about you the whole time I was asleep. I have a question, though. Were you and Dalton in here talking?”

Oh crap. “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“I could hear you, but I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not.” One side of his mouth curls up. “Did you really look under the sheet? Or did I dream that part?”

He knows it happened, and he’s thoroughly enjoying my embarrassment. “Not a dream.”

“For the record, I’m yours, so you can look anytime you want. But what about what you said . . .” He frowns slightly and looks away from me for a second. “Did you really, uh . . . did you say that you love me?”

Oh my. I did say that, didn’t I? I can’t stop the insanely stupid grin on my face when I think about it because I know, without a doubt, that I meant it. “I did.”

“I was hoping so.” He places his hand at the side of my jaw, urging me to come close again. He pauses just before his lips touch mine and closes his eyes. I can practically see the last piece of the wall crumbling down. “I love you, too, Makenna.”

“I understand you didn’t want us to worry, but that’s our job.” A tear trickles down my mom’s cheek. Sawyer just came home from the hospital yesterday, and they were dying to hear what happened and to come down to have Christmas with us. So I invited them today, meeting at my house in neutral territory to explain everything before going to Sawyer’s house.

“I’m sorry. I know you guys have had to worry about me more than your fair share. I haven’t made the last few years easy. I just wanted to spare you from any more. At first, it wasn’t that big of a deal. The house was broken into, and Drew promised he’d help me take care of everything. Then, when everything with him happened, it just snowballed. At that point, I didn’t know how to tell you.”

A sudden thought causes my mom to gasp. “You should warn Callie. What if he comes after her?”

“Already thought of that. She and Wes are spending the whole Christmas break in Colorado with her parents. I don’t want to ruin her break, so I’m going to catch them as soon as they come back.” She may not want to talk to me, but I can’t help but feeling like I should warn her that Drew is a psycho.

My dad is perfectly silent, just staring at me across my kitchen table. I’ve always been close to him, always told him everything. I know I’ve really hurt his feelings this time, and it may take a while for him to forgive me. “Dad, I really am sorry.” He only nods.

“But that’s not all I need to tell you.” I take a deep breath. “I want to talk about Shane.”

And that definitely catches their attention. I’ve never willingly so much as said his name to them since he died. I want them to know everything because . . . well . . . it’s time. I’ve kept it buried so long, and I’m ready to let go. I’m tired of shutting people out and hurting our relationships because of it.

I begin by telling them every detail I can remember about the accident, including the agonizing hours after I woke up in the hospital. I explain that I could see the hurt in their faces that day, pain that I was causing them, and I loved them too much to put them through that. So I turned it off the best I could. I put on a brave face even though I was completely dead inside. I wanted to die. I didn’t want to live without him. But death just wouldn’t come, no matter how hard I begged for it.

For two years, I went through the motions: studied hard, finished college, got a good job doing what I love. I pushed everyone away, not letting anyone in for even a second. It was easier that way. Pretending to be happy made everyone else happy. And it took me two years to see how alone I was. I thought if I filled part of the gaping hole in my heart with someone new, just maybe, I’d feel halfway human again. I thought if I forced myself to feel love again, I would actually start to believe in it.

“But somewhere in the middle of all that, Sawyer appeared out of nowhere.” I’m not sure why my mom smiles when I’m explaining how Sawyer and I started video chatting almost every day, but it makes me feel warm. I haven’t seen her smile like that in a long time. She even tears up a little when I tell her how he surprised me by coming to visit with my class.

“Then when everything hit the fan with Drew, he was there for me. Taking care of me. Protecting me.”

“You weren’t fooling anybody, Scout,” my dad says, unable to stay very angry with me for long. “We’ve been worried about you all this time. We could see right through you, but we didn’t want to bring it up for fear of hurting you more. We were cowards.”

I reach across and rest my hand over his. “Dad, I guess we all were.”

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you? When you started talking about him, your whole face lit up, and I could see it.” My mom, such the keen observer.

Before I could answer, my dad shakes his head. “No, I could see it as soon as I laid eyes on her today.” He turns toward me. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your eyebrows furrowed. Your eyes are brighter. You’re finally happy.”

“I am. Incredibly so. I can’t wait for you to meet him, even though he’s not in the best shape right now. He’s excited to meet you, though. His house is a little small, so I would’ve brought him here, but it’s just too painful for him to ride in a car right now.”

My mom stands to slip her jacket on, clearly ready to leave. “Honey, if we had to all cram into a coat closet, I’d do it. I can’t wait to meet the man that has made my baby smile again. I could kiss him, and I just might.” She walks over to the bar, slings her purse over her shoulder, and looks back at Dad and me. “Are you two coming?”

I snicker and nod. She might be just a tad excited.

Dad surprises me by crushing me into him before we leave the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything, but I know it’s his way of accepting my apology. I feel like another piece of me snaps back into place now that my parents know everything. It’s amazing how a little honesty—or a lot—can make you feel human again.

As soon as my parents and I pull into the drive, Sawyer limps out the front door. I think he was a little worried about how my parents would take everything, so I nod to him and smile to let him know it went well. He may feel worse today, but he sure looks a lot better than he did when he was in the hospital. Some of the swelling in his face has gone down, and they also put a smaller bandage on his forehead. But he’s still extremely sore and horrifically bruised.

“Mr. and Mrs. Madison, I’m honored to meet you.” Out of habit, Sawyer offers his right hand, which happens to be the one with a heavy cast down to his knuckles.

My dad shakes his hand awkwardly. “The honor is ours. Thank you for taking care of our precious girl.”

“No thanks necessary, sir. She’s precious to me, too, and I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”

“Aww.” Mom clutches her hands at her chest. “Will I hurt you if I hug you?”

Sawyer grimaces when he laughs, but he tries to keep a straight face. “No, ma’am. As long as you stay above the shoulders.”

Mom smiles sweetly and gingerly wraps her arms around his neck, kissing his discolored cheek. “Thank you.”

“Well, now that Mom is kissing my boyfriend, I guess we should all go inside and start dinner. We have a lot of Christmas to make up for.”

Sawyer’s head snaps in my direction, and he nearly goes white.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You need to go lie back down on the couch. You’re getting pale.”

“Yeah, I should.” He turns and practically stumbles into the house. Trying to suppress a groan, he lies back on the couch, and Darcy jumps up and curls around his head on the pillow. I brought her here when he came home yesterday, so she wouldn’t be home alone, and she doesn’t ever leave his side. It’s like she knows he’s in pain, and she wants to take care of him since he took care of her.

Mom and Dad bring in the food from the car, and I start heating everything up. We decided there wasn’t any sense in wasting all those Christmas leftovers since they weren’t really touched to begin with. My mom only makes sweet potato casserole once a year, so I wasn’t about to pass up that opportunity, even if it’s been in the fridge for a couple of days.

We opt to eat in the living room area, so Sawyer doesn’t have to leave the couch, and I think it’s a little cozier this way. After I make his plate, I help him sit up and pull the lever to make the footrest pop out. While I’m arranging his plate and drink so he won’t have to move to reach them, I catch both of my parents smiling at me, thoroughly enjoying watching me dote on him, I guess.

Sawyer is abnormally quiet while we eat, but I assume it’s because he doesn’t really know my mom and dad. Come to think of it, I wonder if he’s ever really had much of a family Christmas. This may be totally unlike anything he’s used to. But when he and my dad realize they share a love of classic cars, Sawyer relaxes significantly and tells my dad all about the restoration of his car. He’s smiling, that true smile of his that shows both dimples and crinkles his eyes. He’s actually enjoying himself . . . with my parents. Huh.

“Well,” my mom begins as she stands to take everyone’s dishes, “how about we open gifts and relax a little before we have dessert?”

“Sounds like a great idea to me.” I stand to follow my parents into the kitchen, but Sawyer catches my wrist and pulls me toward him.

“I need a favor. I need something from my room, but I can’t reach up high enough to get it from the shelf.” He’s looking kind of weird again. This may be too much excitement for him.

“Oh, just tell me what it is, and I’ll get it, so you don’t have to get up.”

He struggles to his feet, grunting in pain with every movement. “No, I’ll go with you.”

I just shrug my shoulders. I guess his pride is hurt enough; he doesn’t want to seem completely useless. “Okay.”

I follow him into the bedroom, right behind Darcy, and he shuts the door behind me. Before I can fully turn around to ask him what he needs, he backs me against the wall.

“Hi.”

“Umm, hi?” I have no idea what he’s up to, but I don’t mind the way he’s pinning me to the wall with his hips.

“Your parents are nice.”

“Mmmhmm . . .”

“They still staying at your house tonight?”

“Yeah. Uh, the suspense is killing me. What’s all this about?”

He slips his good arm around my waist and leans forward, resting his forehead against mine. “You called me your boyfriend.”

Boyfriend? I don’t think I would’ve said that. He’s so stoned on pain meds that he’s hearing things now. “I did? When?”

He worries his lip. “You don’t remember? When your mom kissed me, you made the comment about her kissing your boyfriend.”

Shit. “Oh, sorry. I guess I
did
say that.” And I have no idea why. I’m the one that said we didn’t need a label, and I just slapped one right on us.

He looks concerned, almost like he’s not happy about it. “Well, it kinda freaked me out a little bit at first, mainly because I’ve never been the boyfriend type before. But . . . I like it.”

“You do?” What a relief. I thought he was going to be upset.

“A lot, actually.” He places a feather-soft kiss at the tip of my nose. “But I feel like I need to ask you to make it official. Am I supposed to ask your dad, too?”

He’s so freaking cute. “No, that’s a marriage proposal.”

“Oh, well, we’ll get to that soon enough.” He cups my cheek, and his eyes fix on mine. “But for now, Makenna Madison, will you please be my girlfriend?”

After his not-so-subtle hint about a marriage proposal, I don’t know how he expects me to think clearly. I know neither one of us is ready for that right now, but somehow, I know we’ll end up together. I guess he feels the same way, if he’s confident enough to mention it now. But for now, I’m more than happy being his girlfriend. “Yes, I absolutely will. I want to be your everything.”

“Oh, but darlin’, you already are.” He claims my mouth passionately, effortlessly sending me into oblivion as soon as his lips touch mine. And I think for a moment, even his soul touches mine. Now that all of our barriers are gone, we’re connected on a more intimate level.

This is far more than I thought I’d ever have again . . . ever feel again. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a meaningless relationship, hoping to someday feel a mere fraction of what I felt for Shane. And now, with Sawyer, it was there almost immediately, and my heart seems fuller than it’s ever been. My relationship with Shane was pure and innocent and perfect. But with Sawyer, it’s all that, plus something that I can’t quite verbalize. I didn’t find what I had with Shane. I found much more.

“Your parents are going to get suspicious if I keep you hidden away in my bedroom much longer.” Sawyer lifts his head, attempting to hide the cringe he makes when straightening his torso.

“I assure you. My parents couldn’t be happier.” I peck him softly on his moist lips once more. “But you do need to lie back down, and it’s time for your pain meds.”

“I took them half an hour ago.” He takes a few gentle steps toward the closet and points high toward the top shelf. “I wasn’t just trying to get you alone when I asked you to come in here. I actually do need some help getting something off the shelf. It’s under those blankets up there and wrapped in shiny red paper.”

“Up here?” I ask, stretching up on my tiptoes and slipping my hand beneath the pile of soft quilts. When he doesn’t answer, I peek over my shoulder in time to catch him staring at me in a way that makes me blush. “Umm . . .”

His bottom lip pops out from between his teeth, and his lazy eyes travel up until they meet mine. “Have I mentioned how much I like those jeans you’re wearing today?”

“Your pain killers are starting to kick in, aren’t they?” I giggle. That goofy grin on his face says it all.

“I’m just appreciating how beautiful my
girlfriend
is, that’s all.” He seems to have stunned himself with those words. “Damn,
I
have a girlfriend. Just wait until I tell Dalton.”

Isn’t it funny how high doses of codeine can work like truth serum on some people? Maybe I could use it to my advantage next time we’re alone. But for now, I have to hurry and find this box, so I can get him back to the couch before he falls over. He’s obviously not going to be much help right now, so I keep feeling around until my fingertips graze the smooth paper of the small, flat box. Just as he said, it’s wrapped in shiny red paper, with a thin matching bow tied around it. “This it?”