Priest (A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Love Story) (71 page)

BOOK: Priest (A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Love Story)
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“Thanks,” I told him with another
half-assed, painful smile.

“I’m just glad…I’m glad you’re gonna be
okay.”

They visited for a few more minutes before
the nurse came in and told them only one visitor at a time. They all kissed me
on my forehead. I hadn’t seen my face yet, but that was the only place that
didn’t hurt. They were gone about five minutes and I had just closed my eye again
when I heard another familiar voice. I opened my eye and saw Justin…the good
one.

“Hi gorgeous.”

I laughed. “Yeah right. I’ll bet I look
like something out of Tales from the Crypt.”

He came close to the bed and kissed my
forehead like the rest of them had done. “You’re beautiful, as always. I’m so
damned sorry this happened to you.”

“Thanks, me too.” I tried to smile again.
I really needed to stop doing that.

“Did you know this guy? This isn’t the one
that you were seeing, was it?”

“No,” I said, licking my lips. He
immediately picked up the water off the bedside table and brought the straw to
my lips. I drank and swished because everything was just so damned dry. “Thank
you,” I said, grateful for his kindness. “It wasn’t Paul. It’s a really
disturbed man who thinks Paul’s wronged him in some way.”

“Can I ask you a personal question? I
don’t want to upset you…”

“It’s okay, as you can see I’m kind of
tough-skinned.”

“I just wonder why this Paul guy isn’t
here. Obviously this wouldn’t have happened to you if you weren’t seeing him.
Shouldn’t he be standing vigil?” I was instantly ready to defend him, even to
Justin who I knew wasn’t a malicious guy.

“He has bigger worries right now, I’m
afraid. He’s a good guy, honest.”

“Okay. If you say so I will believe you.”
I felt my eyelids getting heavy again and Justin must have noticed because he
said, “I’m going to go and let you get some sleep. I’ll be back to see you.”

“Thank you, Justin.”

“My pleasure,” he said, kissing my
forehead again. “By the way since you’re in ICU they won’t let you have flowers
and balloons and all of that, but don’t let them jip you when you leave.
There’s a whole room full of them out there.” That made my heart warm. One
thing some creep who likes to beat on women could never take from me was my
amazing friends. I drifted off then for a while, I’m not sure how long before I
had more visitors. Mark came to see me and he was sweet and kind and a perfect
gentleman. My other gym buddies all showed up one at a time too. I was
exhausted, but I was touched and so blessed to have so many good people in my
life. The best news I got came at the end of the day when the detective came
back to see me. He told me that Mitch was being charged with assault and he was
locked up tight at the L.A. County jail. His knuckles were scuffed from beating
on me and he still had blood on his clothes. Stupid fuck. He really didn’t
deserve to be a cop…or a human being. The next time I closed my eyes I was
actually able to sleep peacefully for a while. The only thing still bothering
me was not knowing if Paul and his family were safe.

 

CHAPTER
FOUR

I made it through the night being woken up
every half hour so they could take my vital signs. The irony of it was that
every time they left the room they would say, “Get some rest.” Then they’d be
back in five minutes. They also casted my right arm and took out the chest tube
because my lung was doing well on its own. I still had a tight band around my
ribs that made it hard to breathe, but it was nice knowing there wasn’t a little
container of green gunk next to the bed any longer when people came to visit.
The feeling was back in my left arm, they had put it back into its socket. I
decided I preferred the numb, it hurt like a bitch.

When the light began to stream into the
room, I woke up slowly. I was happy that both of my eyes seemed to open now.
They were still a little blurry at first, but when the blur cleared this
morning they were in for a welcome treat. Paul was sitting in the chair next to
my bed, asleep. I just lay there quietly watching him for a long time. He had
such a beautiful face…and it didn’t look harmed at all, so I’d like to believe
that meant Mitch didn’t find them. I don’t know how long I stared at him before
he finally opened his eyes. He looked a little disoriented at first but then I
saw him focus on my face…and wince.

“Hey,” he said, sitting up straight in the
chair.

“Hi,” I didn’t try to smile. I still
wasn’t sure what it looked like.

“God Jessie…I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for
everything. I’m sorry I got angry at you on the phone. Shit! Look what the
fucker did to you. Of course you had to tell him…and then he hurt you anyways
for calling me, right? I’m so sorry.” He looked like he was going to cry. It
was hard to watch. He was always so tough and stoic.

“It’s okay…I told him where you were
because I had to protect my Mom. I didn’t want to, Paul. I was so afraid that
he’d hurt you, but he had her in jail and I was afraid for her…”

“Shit! Mother fucker! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s really okay. It’s not your fault…”

“Are you kidding? Of course it is. It’s
all my fault. If I wasn’t being stupid and calling your mother a “druggie” in
the first place, I may have been there with you when he showed up…”

“We can’t do “what if’s.” It is what it
is. The good news is that he’s in jail. He’s right where he needs to be. Are
Marie and Victor okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Thank you for warning
me that he was coming. Now that I see what he did to you though, I’m sorry you
did. I would have rather he attacked me instead. I’m so sorry.” He reached over
and lightly touched my face with his fingertips. His hand was shaking. “I’m
going to make Mitch sorry that he was ever born for laying a hand on you.”
 

I hated that. I didn’t want him going
after Mitch. I wanted this to be over. “He’s in jail baby. He’s not going to
hurt us any longer. Let’s just forget it and move on.”

“Forget it? No fucking way. Jail is too
good for him. They better keep him there though…for his own protection. Maybe
we’ll get lucky and he’ll go out into Gen Pop and they’ll find out he’s a cop.”

“Paul, please,” I begged. “I don’t want to
have to keep worrying about you getting hurt. Please leave it alone.” He didn’t
confirm or deny that he’d be willing to do that. He did get up and plant a soft
kiss on my sore lips. It was the sweetest pain in the world.

*****

They kept me in the hospital for several
days. I was moved out of ICU to a regular room and I found out that Justin
hadn’t been kidding…it was filled with flowers and balloons and get well cards.
It made me feel good to know so many people loved me. I had been calling the
rehab every day and checking on my mom. I was glad that she wasn’t ready for
visitors yet because I really didn’t want her to know what had happened. She
would worry and maybe even leave her treatment and that was the last thing I
wanted. She sounded content on the phone and her therapist told me she was
doing great. It did my own mind good to know she was in a safe place.
Rationally I knew Mitch was locked up and couldn’t hurt us…but the trauma was
still fresh in my mind.

On the day I was scheduled to be
discharged, Paul was there to pick me up. He took three loads of stuff down to
the car. He’d brought his Sensei’s car so that I wouldn’t have to climb up into
his truck. When he helped me in the whole thing smelled like roses. We went to
my apartment first and stayed there the first night. I could smell the cleaning
products as we walked in the door. The place was spic and span. Paul told me
that my friends from the gym had all pitched in and cleaned it up. They didn’t
want me to have to come home to the mess that Mitch and I had left. They had
even patched the hole in the wall. That was good, no visual reminders of having
my head put through the wall.

For the first few nights I was home Paul
would order us dinner and we would watch movies…cuddled up together under a
blanket on the couch. I was healing but still too sore to do anything other
than light kissing. He seemed okay with that and he was sweet and gentle and he
was a lot less wound up than he was before…again I think that was due to Mitch
being in jail and everyone he loved being safe. I wondered if I was amongst
those he loved. I was falling deeper in love with him every day but I resisted
telling him. I didn’t want him to have something new to be so tense about.

We didn’t really talk about anything
serious either. I told him my mom was in rehab and he told me Marie and Victor
were now in Long Beach with some old family friends. He was considering setting
them up somewhere out of state after his big fight. He’d have the money to do
it then and that way when Mitch did get out their trail would be
cold…hopefully. I still had so many questions for him though…what was it about
a son who died? Was he married before? How did he have such intimate knowledge
of the drug treatment program and where the druggies hung out? But those were
all for another day…another time. Time was something we seemed to have on our
side these days. As long as Mitch was in jail, and Mom was in rehab, and Marie
and Victor were tucked away safely, life was good.

I got tired quickly of sitting around the
house though. I was used to being active. I couldn’t even run or work out with
the cast and the bound ribs. My ribs felt better. I think they were healing
well, so about three days after I got out of the hospital Paul showed up to
find me dressed in my gym clothes and not wearing the brace for my ribs. If I
could have used a knife with my left hand without cutting off my arm, the cast
would have been gone too.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he
asked.

“I’m going stir crazy,” I told him. “I
know I can’t do a lot, but I thought I’d go into work for just a little while…I
can just talk people through their work-outs, I don’t have to do any hands-on.”

“No. You’re not going to the gym, crazy
girl. You’re still healing.”

“I feel better, really.” He didn’t look
like he was buying it, so I got close to the side of his face and whispered,
“Maybe if I can’t go to work, you could help me work-out here.”

He smiled and said, “We’ll see. I’m a
little freaked out about hurting you.”

“I’m all better,” I whined. “I promise.”

Grinning, he said, “How about we go for a
ride first? Then later, if you’re still feeling up to it…”

“I will be,” I told him, definitively. I
wasn’t just stir crazy; being this close to him day in and day out without
having him inside of me was driving me crazy as well. “Going for a ride will
do…for now.”

He showered and dressed and then we got
into his car and he got on the 101 Freeway. I didn’t ask where we were going
and he didn’t tell me. He drove us out towards the valley and finally into a
residential area. The houses were older…probably built in the seventies or
eighties, but the lawns were neatly trimmed and it looked like a nice, peaceful
place. He parked the car near the curb between two houses and came around and
opened the door for me.

“Where are we?” I asked. I wondered if
this was where Marie and Victor were staying, but that couldn’t be right, he
said they were in Long Beach.

“This is where I grew up,” he said. I
noticed as he walked me up to one of the houses, a single-story white western
style house with a small front porch and attached garage that there was also a
“Foreclosed” notice on the front door.

“Your whole life?” I asked him.

“Yeah, until I was old enough to leave.”

That was something for me. Mom and I moved
a lot. Every time she used the rent money for her “entertainment” instead, one
too many times, we would get an eviction notice and have to move to another
creepy apartment.

“No one lives here now?”

“No. When my parents left for Florida
after my dad retired, they sold it. The people who bought it lost it in a year.
It’s been empty since then.” He had ahold of my hand and he led me around the
side of the house. We went through a wooden gate that he reached over and
unlocked and we were standing in the back yard.

Smiling, I said, “So what are we going to
do, break in?”

He laughed and then said, “Yep. That’s
exactly what we’re going to do.”

“Paul…”

“It’s okay. I’m not going to break
anything.” He went over to one of the big windows and took off the screen. He
pressed his hands against the glass and raised it up. As he climbed through he
said, “I’ll be right back.” A few minutes later, he opened the sliding glass
door and said, “Welcome. Please come in.”

I followed him in, but once we were
standing in the empty kitchen I said, “You’re a little bit crazy, you know
that?”

He smiled and nodded. “Come on, I’ll show
you around.”

The house wasn’t huge but it was a lot
nicer than any place I had ever lived. I know you never know what went on
inside someone else’s family behind closed doors but I know when I was a kid I
would have given my right arm to live in a “real” house like this. It was four
bedrooms and two baths. He showed me Marie’s old room and his parents room and
told me the extra bedroom had been his dad’s home office. There was a living
room and a den. The living room had a fireplace that took up one whole wall. He
looked at it fondly and said, “When I have my own house someday, it’s going to
have to have a fireplace.”

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