Pretty Little Dreams (4 page)

“No, officers, we didn’t manage to get much from her other than her name, the fact she fell, and that she was kidnapped.
All we know is that someone came in with her in his arms, and started screaming for doctors and nurses to help her. As soon as she was placed on the gurney, a nurse turned around to ask some questions, and he had disappeared.”

“How long was it from the time she was taken on the gurney, that they realized he was gone?”
Another voice asks.

“The nurse said it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, tops.”

I crack my eyes and see the blurry figures of Dr. Arnez and two policemen standing there.

“How long will she be asleep?” one of the officers asks.

“Likely, a few more hours, or so.
Her body needs to rest in order to heal itself.”

“Okay, well we need to be notified as soon as she wakes up.
Time is of the essence and we have several questions we need to ask her.”

“I understand.
I will let the nurses know, as well.”

“Does she have any family or any friends here yet?”

“Not that we’ve seen, no.”

“Okay, well we contacted her parents.
As soon as we saw there was an APB out on her and for the man that is suspected of kidnapping her, we called her local police department for information. They let us do the honors of notifying her parents. They should be on their way here now, from what I understand.”

“Great.
Having family surrounding her will definitely be beneficial to her recovery.”

“We would like to keep an officer posted outside of her room.
That way we can be sure to be notified as soon as she wakes up. Is that a problem?”

“No, not at all, officers.
Again, I will be sure my staff is aware of the situation.”

“Thank you.”

I close my eyes again. While I can hear them, I am not sure who they are talking about, but somehow have the understanding that they are discussing me. They aren’t coming completely into focus and I can’t move at all. My body won’t listen to me, so I just give up, and surrender myself to the dark once again.

4.

PINCH ME SO I KNOW IT’S REAL

Luke

I
t feels like
it has taken me days to get here, instead of mere hours. As soon as Pyper got the call from Olivia’s parents, I’ve felt a rollercoaster of emotions. The private investigator I hired called me with the news at the same time Olivia’s parents tried to reach me. The relief I felt at hearing, “She’s alive,” was staggering. I can’t even begin to put it into words. I didn’t want to admit that in the deepest part of my mind, I was afraid of the worst. She’s been gone from me for four weeks, three days, five hours, nine minutes. Every moment has been mind-numbing and terror-filled, and in many ways felt like a lifetime. I couldn't concentrate or think of anything else; barely a moment passed without wondering where she was, if she was okay, what was happening to her, if she was alive. That question was the most painful. That and wondering what was he doing to her.

I have no idea what state I’m going to find her in.
I know the extent of her injuries, my private investigator told me on the phone. But emotionally, how is she going to be after four weeks with that monster? Can she heal from this? How will it have changed her? Is she going to be the same Olivia after such a traumatic experience? Will I be able to help her through this? Moreover, will she let me? Or will she blame me? Will she want to be with me? Can we move forward from this? Can I? I want to find him and kill him – to obtain my revenge for all he has done to Olivia, to us. For what he has taken. I don't care how irrational that is. The legal system will never be able to exact the penalty needed. So many questions, so much anger and pain, and each question, each issue is driving me crazy. And truthfully, I’m terrified of the answers. Terrified of what I might do. Or who we will have become. Will that stop me from rushing into her room to see her? Keep me from holding her, and telling her I love her? Hell no. Even if it’s the last time, because she can’t bear to be around me, I will take every moment, every second I can with her. I would walk through a pit of hypodermic needles if it meant she was on the other side. I will fight like hell to keep her in my life. Nothing will ever take her from me again.

After I got the call and found out Olivia was in St. Louis, I went to my condo in order to pack and make travel arrangements.
I stood there for just a moment, feeling completely overwhelmed from all the emotions running through me. I had so much to do, yet felt paralyzed, unable to process even where to begin. I stood like a school girl on her first day of school, staring at my closet, trying to decide what to pack before I even realized what I was doing and that it didn’t matter - she wouldn’t care and I certainly didn't care. I then merely threw the first things I saw into my suitcase while calling the airline to arrange for a flight and rental car for both Pyper, and me. All tasks that had to be completed, but I was furious with the time it took to accomplish it all. What I really wanted was to take action, to get in the damn car and take off and drive, but that would ultimately have meant an even longer time before I could see her. So, I did my best to put emotions aside, and just do what needed to be done.

The flight seemed to take forever, but upon arrival at the Saint Louis International Airport, while hard for her, Pyper chose to wait behind for Olivia’s parents, while I went on ahead.
They shouldn't be far behind us, scheduled to have arrived within a half hour of our flight, but I couldn’t wait another minute. I have to get to Olivia. To see her. My heart won’t beat right again until I do.

“In one mile, turn right on Hospital Plaza.
Your destination will be on the left.”

Finally.
Thank God for GPS since I have no clue where the hell I’m going. The twenty two miles seemed so far and seemed to take so long. I couldn't drive fast enough, yet, knew that getting a ticket would only make things worse; require time that I do not have to spare. And I can only imagine how an interaction with a cop would have gone down – not very pretty. So, why St. Louis? Why did Deacon bring her here, of all places? I finally reach my destination and quickly swing into the first parking space I see. I don’t give a fuck that it’s a handicapped spot, my life has been one big handicap without my girl. Anyone that has a problem can call the cops, I couldn’t care less.

As I fly through the hospital entrance, aware that this is a fucking big place, I abruptly ask the volunteer Olivia's room number and the directions to the elevator.
They really do wear pink at these places. Could one elevator take so long? Arriving on the 12
th
floor, flying through the doors, I am confronted by a large nurse's station and a young nurse who seems oblivious to my arrival. There are no signs that I can see indicating where I should go, so getting help is necessary. She’s twirling her hair, snapping gum, and talking on the phone - awesome. I swear she turns her chair slightly away from me. “Yeah, I know right?! Thank goodness it’s kind of a slow night tonight. If I’m lucky, I’ll get off early.”

“Excuse me, Miss?
I need directions to Olivia Brooks’ room, please.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes, “I gotta go, Joey.
I will see you during break. Uh huh…yeah. Oh really? They’re serving fish again? Ugh, gross, who wants to eat fish from a –“

I reach over the counter and disconnect little Miss bubblegum’s call, “HEY!”

I take a deep breath, and try again, “I said, where is Olivia Brooks' room, please?”

With another sigh, she taps on her keyboard before finally telling me, “She’s going to be in room 1236, but right now she's in recovery room three, down on the second floor.
The elevators are through that entryway over there,” she says pointing to the right. “Oh, yeah, you know that right? I mean you just came up them. But maybe you came up on the other ones...”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I hear her mumble under her breath.

I take off in a near run and find myself again stabbing the elevator button with impatience.
I barely acknowledge the individuals on the elevator with me, and begin the second longest elevator ride of my life. Once I’m on the floor, I confront yet another reception desk. I again ask for Olivia and after providing my name, rank and serial number, am allowed through the doors that lead to her current room. There are no doors, only curtains, and the numbers are posted outside each cubicle looking space. I’m so close to her, my stomach is in knots, my heart is aching, and my mind is full of so many questions. I’m just steps away from seeing her, holding her.

When I see the policeman standing outside the curtain of room number five I abruptly stop.
Looking at me, eyebrow raised, the officer says, “Can I help you?”

“Uh, yes.
Is this Olivia Brooks’ room?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Luke Easton.”

“Okay, I was told you were on your way here, but I need to see some identification first.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” I hurriedly take my wallet out of my back pocket and pull my driver’s license out, showing it to the officer. He holds it up and inspects it carefully, looking from my ID, to me, and back again.

He hands it back to me, “Okay, thanks.
The last time I checked, she was still unconscious from surgery. We are still waiting to get a statement from her about what happened. As soon as she wakes, I need you to let me know. Time is of the essence, if we are going to find the man that did this to her, okay?”

Just the reference to that bastard makes my fists clench as anger rushes through my body.
I tap it down because now isn’t the time. Instead, I nod and reply, “I understand.”

He nods, “You can go on in.”

I don’t waste another moment maneuvering the curtain back, anxious to see her. I stop in my tracks at the sight. She looks so small; the bed almost swallows her whole. She has an oxygen tube around her nose, an IV running in her arm, some type of device attached to her index finger, and is connected to various monitors that are producing both a rhythmical beat and hum. Her right leg is suspended slightly over the bed, being held in place by some sling contraption, and her left arm is wrapped in a large bandage. She has visible bruises and scratches in nearly every place where her skin is exposed. She’s still resting, but her eyelids move rapidly and her brow is furrowed in sleep, as if she’s trying to solve a problem.

I have to keep myself from falling to my knees at the sight of her.
My legs buckle, tears flood my eyes, and I feel a ball in my throat. Her beautiful ivory skin is so pale; it wrenches my stomach. I can’t help but miss the beautiful flush her skin has when she’s laughing or excited by my touch.

I don’t want to wake her, but the desire to touch her is a physical ache I feel all the way to my toes, making them curl in my shoes.
Walking to the foot of her bed, I simply stand there and take her in. Tears I had been trying so hard to contain fall freely from my eyes. It has been one hell of a day – between my mother’s funeral and now this – it’s all too much. Wow, I've hardly thought about that in all of the urgency and rush to get here. Leaving my mother’s funeral, while difficult because I know my dad could use my support, was the right thing to do. I have no doubt about that. Once upon a time, I chose my mom over Olivia, trying to make everyone happy, and the consequences of those actions took me years to make right. Choosing Olivia, prioritizing her, even at this time wasn’t even a question, and I know she would understand. Wiping my face, I find myself at the side of her bed reaching my hands out to touch her. I hesitate because with all her scrapes, bruises and cuts I don’t want to hurt her. There isn’t a spot on her that appears to be a safe choice.

Finally, I settle for her cheek.
I can’t stop myself from trailing the back of my fingers down her profile, and as I do more tears escape, and I don’t even care. I will gladly hand in my man card. I was so afraid I would never see her again. I love this woman with every part of me. She is my past, my present, and I hope she’s my future. If she can forgive me, I will spend my life trying to make it up to her. I don’t want anyone but her. I’ve spent seven long years of my life living without her, always wondering where she was, if she was happy, if she ever thought about me or remembered us at all. I can’t imagine going back to that. It would kill me. I need her like the earth needs the sun.

Cupping the side of her face, I whisper, “Oh, my angel.
I’m so sorry. So, so, sorry. Please forgive me. I should have been there. I wish I had been there.”

Without warning, Olivia turns her face into my hand, nuzzling it.
Her eyes open to slits and she murmurs, “Luke?”

“I’m here, love.”

“Am I dreaming?”

Those words make my heart wrench hard in my chest, “No angel, you’re not dreaming.
I’m here.”

“Luke, please don’t leave me.
Please God, I know this is a dream, but please, let him stay a little longer.” Her eyes close and it takes her a while to reopen them. I can tell she’s struggling to stay awake.

Her words gut me.
“I’m here. You’re safe now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her lips turn up at the corners making my breath catch in my throat.
Her smile is beauty amongst so many touches of pain. “This is the best dream so far. I love you, Luke.”

My breath leaves my body in a harsh exhale.
I don’t think I will ever tire of hearing those words pass her lips. “I love you too.” I bend down and place a soft kiss upon her lips. I can’t resist. She doesn’t respond, and I know she’s slipped back into sleep once again.

I’ve planted myself
in a chair at her side, with no intention of leaving. They have moved her to the room on the twelfth floor. She hardly aroused when the nurses told her what was happening, choosing instead to sleep through the entire process, commotion and elevator ride and all. I'm guessing it's part medication and part exhaustion. I’m holding one of her hands, and can’t stop myself from repeatedly tracing circles over her knuckles. Since we arrived in her room, three more times she’s regained consciousness, each time, her eyes find mine, she asks me if she’s dreaming, and falls back to sleep. It splits my heart open every time.

I just want her to open her beautiful green eyes and know without question that I’m here.
I want her to know she’s safe, and that I will do everything I can to make sure this never happens again.