Reckless (Blue Collar Boyfriends Book 1) (19 page)

“He’ll get a slap on the wrist. His driving record is clean. I’ve asked.”

Anger shot through her like lava, burning an unfamiliar trail. Cade had violated Derek’s privacy. A concerned family member inquiring about an arrest charge was one thing, but throwing credentials around to dig into a person’s driving record—not public knowledge—that was despicable.

“You had no right.” Her voice shook with conviction, and a part of her couldn’t believe she was standing up to Cade. That part urged her to shut up, but for some inexplicable reason, she kept going. And it felt darn good.

“You’re not my lawyer. You’re my brother. And you’ve been a pretty lousy one of those for the past eight years. Now you want to waltz back into my life and start dictating who I can and can’t see, and sue everyone in sight?”

Her anger rolled downhill, gaining speed. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. You declared me guilty eight years ago, and you’ve been punishing me ever since. Well,
guess what, Cade, you’re not a judge. It’s not up to you to dole out justice. You leave Derek alone.”

Cade’s eyes bugged out. He was one of those physically blessed men who had to work to make
himself unattractive; this look did it. Indignation and offense.

She pressed herself back into the bed as he stood up to tower over her. Where was the bravery that should have come with that bout of righteous anger?

“Derek? You’re on a first name basis with this guy? This
perpetrator
? This asshole who almost killed you?” He scoffed, an ugly sound to match his expression. “It’s not an attorney you need. It’s power of attorney. Your brains got scrambled in that accident. You’re not thinking straight.”

Her eyes were hot. They filled with tears. She’d always looked so far up to Cade that his
opinion of her had meant more than anyone else’s, except her father’s. His open disapproval had destroyed her eight years ago, and it threatened to do so again. She was tempted to apologize, to backpedal and smooth everything over, go back to how things had been a few minutes ago. Go back to pretending.

But Cade was threatening Derek.

She swatted at her tears. Her gaze fell on the roses, which caught the sunlight on the windowsill. The sight of them gave her strength, and she wondered how she could have ever considered sending them away.

She took a breath and said, “Get out, Cade.”

He wasn’t listening. He followed her line of sight. “Oh, hell no,” he said. “They’re from him, aren’t they?” His yanked at his tie, loosening it as his neck turned red. “That asshole sent you flowers to try to talk you out of suing him. I’ll murder him in the courtroom. He knows he’s not supposed to have contact with you. That son of a bitch.”

He turned the vase roughly, inspecting the bouquet. “Where’s the note?” he asked. He turned harsh blue eyes on her. “Where is it? What did you do with it?” He scanned the room, his gaze landing on her again.
No, not on her. On her pillow.

Oh, no.

He strode to her bedside and thrust a hand behind her pillow, drawing out the precious letter. She reached to stop him, but he was too quick. Her attempt left her wincing with pain all through her left shoulder and her back.

“Give it back, Cade!” Her pain made her voice shrill. She didn’t care. “Give it back right now!”

He shook it open and started reading. “Never told you that I loved you? What the fuck, Cams? This guy’s as big a nut job as you are.”

“That’s private. Give it back!” She felt like a kid again, discovering her brother on the back porch with his friends, all of them giggling over her journal. Despite mortifying embarrassment, she’d marched directly into the horde of older boys and grabbed her journal back. Old habits
died hard. Her legs were over the edge of the bed before she could think better of it. She gripped the rail with her good arm and used it to launch herself onto her feet.

Derek signed in at the third floor visitors’ desk and got a nifty badge with his picture on it. As he went up a floor to the IMCU, he kind of missed Reynolds’ presence. At first, he’d thought she was a pill, but she’d turned out to be all right. When he’d been with her at the hospital yesterday, he hadn’t had any doubts about belonging there, but oddly, without the uniformed, no-nonsense cop, he felt conspicuous and out of place, as if at any moment, security would spot him and usher him out.

Probably just nerves.
And the fact that Camilla’s brother despised him. It had been a long time since he’d cared what another guy thought of him, but he found himself caring now. He wanted to get along with Cade. For Camilla’s benefit. But pulling it off would take a miracle.

He flashed his badge at the IMCU desk and asked for her room number.

“Four-twelve,” the receptionist said.

He waited a beat, expecting to have to answer questions or defend his existence, but the gray-haired woman in scrubs only smiled at him and pointed him down the hallway. No sign-in sheet or anything.

Industrial tan carpet and cool light from overhead fluorescents led him down the corridor of patient rooms. Handrails lined the walls, obscured here and there by a stray wheelchair or a hulking piece of medical equipment. Every twenty feet or so was a recessed bay with a computer monitor and keyboard where nurses could make their patient notes. He took advantage of the quiet and coached himself for the coming encounter.

Say you’re sorry. Ask her how much she remembers. Tell her you love her.

He got to room 412 and lifted his hand to knock on the closed door.

A muffled, “Right now, Cade. Give it back,” met his ears. The command was followed by a wounded cry.

His heart jumped into double-time. He shoved open the door in time to see a slender form in a hospital gown crumple to the floor.

Camilla!

He rushed to her, his knees hitting the linoleum. As he pulled her into his arms, a tall form crowded over them.

“Cams, shit.” He recognized Cade’s voice. “I’m so sorry.”

“Get a nurse,” Derek said through gritted teeth.

Camilla looked nothing like he remembered. Bandages wrapping her entire head replaced the auburn waves cascading around her shoulders. Bruises colored the left side of her face, and swelling hid her delicate bone structure. A line of stitches bisected her left eyebrow. Her lips were semi-recognizable. Their lush fullness struck a chord deep inside him, but they were bloodless and parted in a mask of pain. Her eyes, familiar and crisply blue, locked on his.

He had no idea what had happened, but it registered with the primal part of his brain that it had been Camilla’s voice he’d heard. Her cry. There was no one else in the room, so she must have been talking to Cade. This was her brother’s fault.

He bit back a curse, tamped down his rage. It wouldn’
t do any good here. She was in trouble, and she needed him.

After Cade’s footsteps retreated at a run, he said, “Are you hurting anywhere?”

She touched his cheek and said, “Not anymore.” Then her eyes rolled back in her head and her body began shaking.

All hell broke loose. People in squeaky shoes came running. Carts were rolled in. Two people took Camilla from his arms and put her on the bed. A woman in a white coat was shouting at him, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from Camilla, shaking uncontrollably as gloved hands held her down. Helplessness tried to swallow him whole.

“What happened? Hey, you! What happened in here? What was the patient doing out of bed?” Fingers dug into his arm, making him look away from Camilla.

His mouth was dry, but he managed to say, “I don’t know. I just got here. Is she going to be okay?”

The woman in the white coat had short brown hair, and she looked pissed. “If you don’t have any helpful information, then you need to get out of here. Now. Before I call security. You too.” She pointed at Cade, who stood shaking his head in shock.

She’d said the magic word.
Security. He wouldn’t let anything come between him and Camilla again. He didn’t think he could survive if he got thrown out of the hospital. And he didn’t fool himself into thinking he could do anything for her right now. He snagged Cade’s arm on his way and dragged him out of the room, leaving the experts to fix whatever the hell had gone wrong.

He wandered to the cluster of armchairs and potted plants near the
elevators, fell into a chair and held his head between his hands. Worry for Camilla had him sick to his stomach, and he shook with the effort not to pin Cade to the wall and demand answers.

After a couple of tense minutes, the IMCU doors hissed open and several staffers pushed a gurney past him toward a set of double doors marked
Service Elevator
. Camilla lay in the bed.

She was terribly still. He recognized the woman in the white coat. She was squeezing a bag over Camilla’s face, giving her oxygen.

He rocketed out of his chair. “Where are you taking her?”

The woman in the white coat glared at him.
“To CAT scan.” She offered no more information as the gurney was wheeled through the doors, which sighed closed with a soft thump.

He stood staring after them. What the hell was happe
ning? He couldn’t lose Camilla when he’d just found her. He pulled at his hair.

Not going to lose her. She’s strong. Persistent.
She’d shown him over and over again during their nights together. She’d get through this.

“It’s my fault,” Cade said behind him.

Derek looked up to find Cade’s eyes hard as ice.

“She didn’t want me to read this.” He held up a crumpled piece of paper.

Derek recognized the note he’d put in with the flowers this morning and snatched the letter from Cade’s hand. “Can’t say I blame her. It wasn’t meant to end up exhibit A.”

So that was why Camilla had gotten out of bed. Shit. If he’d known it would lead to her getting hurt, he never would have written it. He’d wanted to reassure her that he remembered their time together. It had occurred to him she might not remember anything, and he would come off looking like an idiot, but the risk had been worth it. He hadn’t considered how crazy the letter would sound to anyone else. It was his heart on that page, exposed for Camilla alone. The violation of Cade’s reading it had a vise clamping around his lungs.

“Don’t worry,” Cade said. “She’s not going to sue. Congratulations. You manipulated her into caring. She refuses to take you to court for what she deserves. What the fuck, man? What’s with the crazy love shit in there? Are you nuts or something? Are you trying to mess with her head?”

Anger bubbled under his skin. A string of curses shoved at the backs of his teeth, but he swallowed them and mentally counted to ten. He’d decided to get a head start on the class by Googling anger management techniques. The counting thing had sounded
cliche, but oddly, it seemed to be working. By the time he got to six, he no longer wanted to bury his fist in Cade’s male-model-perfect face, and by the time he reached ten, he’d regained the ability to focus on what was important here, or rather
who
. Camilla.

Cade didn’t matter. Derek shouldn’t have to defend his private note. He shouldn’t have to, but he would. Cade meant nothing to him, but he meant something to Camilla. And it made her look foolish to let her brother believe they were strangers.

“Did it occur to you your sister and I might have a history outside of the accident?” He managed to keep his volume civil, but Cade would understand from his tone he had questionable control of his anger.

Cade scoffed. “You saying you and
Cami were involved?”

Before witnessing her reaction to him a few minutes ago, he might have hesitated. Not now. “Not were.
Are.”

Cade grimaced with open disdain.

The urge to wipe that look off his face had his fists clenching so hard his fingernails dug into his palms. The note wilted in his sweaty grip.

“Yeah, right,” Cade spat. “You just happen to accidentally cut off your girlfriend on the highway. That’s likely.” His gaze became calculating. “Unless you had a fight or something, and you planned a little payback.”

“Watch it,” Derek warned. His voice had become a growl.
Take it easy. Remember who’s
important here.
“It was an accident. One I caused because of a bad decision. I was being impatient and taking it out on the other drivers on the road. Your sister happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and trust me, I had no idea. If I knew then what I know now—”

Rage spun out toward Cade and in toward himself. A hurricane of anger threatened to rip him to pieces. He paused to bring himself under control and did a quick ten-count. “You have no idea how bad I wanted to mess myself up after I figured out it was Camilla who got hurt.”

Cade studied him, giving him an idea how it might feel to be cross-examined by the guy. For all Derek wanted to hate him, he’d bet Cade was a decent lawyer. And a decent brother. In some ways.

Finally, Cade blew an agitated breath out his nose. “You’re wrong. I have more than an idea.” His gaze drifted to the service elevator doors.

Silence pressed the walls of the lobby until Derek said, “She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter.”

A look cut between them. They’d reached a tentative truce for now. The war was far from won, but this battle had come to a halt under the white flag of mutual concern.

He forced himself to sit down. Nothing he could do now, but wait for news of Camilla’s condition.

Cade sat a few chairs away, his eyes and thumbs glued to his smart phone.

The minutes crawled by with painful cruelty. When the clock edged toward four, the time he was supposed to pick Haley up from her mother’s house, he had to make a decision. Leave and be terrible company for Haley this evening, or call Deidre and do what he’d never done before, voluntarily give up one of his nights with his little girl.

Before he could decide, Cade looked up from his ph
one. “Heads up,” he said. “Our mother’s on her way. She just texted from the parking lot.”

Great.
One more complication. He’d come clean to Cade, but he didn’t relish telling Camilla’s mother he was the one who had put her daughter in the hospital…and that he loved her. He’d have to tell her eventually, but now probably wasn’t the time for a moment of revelation worthy of reality TV. He stood to go.

“What are you going to tell her?” Derek asked.

“About you?”

He figured Cade wouldn’t go there for the same reason
he was planning to get out of Dodge. “About what happened in there.”

Cade’s jaw went rigid.

Maybe it was shitty of him, but it gave him a little satisfaction to see the guy squirm.

Cade hissed a long, drawn out curse, and Derek’s satisfaction softened around the edges.

“Hey, whatever, man.” He spotted the exit sign a few paces behind where Cade sat. Presumably the door led to a stairwell—he didn’t want to run into Camilla’s mother in the elevator in case she recognized him from their brief interaction in the hall yesterday. He paused as he walked past Cade. “I don’t suppose you’d give me a call when you hear something.” It made his lungs tighten to have to ask Cade for a favor. But he pushed through the irritating sensation by remembering once more what was most important: Camilla.

The elevator made a soft
bing
. Not wanting to take a chance Camilla’s mother would step out and see him talking to Cade, he dropped the letter into Cade’s lap and slipped through the stairwell door. He hated to put the letter back in Cade’s hands, but his phone number was on it.

Cade hadn’t given him an answer, but maybe, just maybe he’d cut
Derek a little slack.

Or, he thought as he pounded down the stairs, Cade might use the letter and a creative retelling of events to make sure he’d would never have a fighting chance where Camilla’s mother was concerned.

As he pulled out of Mercy Med’s parking lot, his stomach was in knots over Camilla, and he still hadn’t made up his mind whether he was up to entertaining Haley tonight. His truck knew the way to Deidre’s house, though, so that’s where he found himself a few minutes after four.

After angling his truck into the driveway, he spotted Haley in the shade of the front porch. She had on shorts and a purple t-shirt that matched her cast. She was lying on her stomach with a glass of lemonade at her elbow, and writing in a notebook. He’d been right; the cast wasn’t slowing her down one bit.

The sight of his Haley-girl, so carefree and cute, eased the pressure squeezing his lungs.

He might not be such bad company tonight, after all. But would Cade call when Camilla woke up? If hell froze over and he did, he wanted to be able to go to her at a moment’s notice. He’d been waiting too long to see her.

His lungs squeezed again.

“Hey, Dad!”
Haley scrambled up and bounded over to greet him as he climbed down from his cab.

“Hey, kiddo!”
He squeezed her in a long hug. “How’s the arm?”