The Sound of Consequence (Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love Book 1) (24 page)

“That means it’s about a woman.” Morgan put the fork down and tapped his hand. “Hmmm…let me guess, her name is Stacie.”

Owen dropped his fork and studied his sister. She raised her brow and smiled, knowing she’d defeated Owen.

“You’ve been talking to Bryan.”

“Of course I have. He and I have an agreement. He keeps me posted on what’s doing with you and I don’t nag the shit out of him.”

“I bet you still nag him.”

“Well, I’m a woman. It’s in my nature. So tell me about Stacie.”

Owen made a mental note to kick Bryan’s ass the next time he saw his best friend. The man gossiped like a girl. “She’s amazing. Beautiful. Passionate.”

Morgan’s eyes widened, like she was surprised to hear him say such a thing.

“What?” he asked.

“This must be serious because you’ve never described a woman like that.”

Owen had to think about that. Daphne had been his high school sweetheart. Actually, she’d been one of Morgan’s friends and they’d hit it off after he’d returned from a summer at his uncle’s house in Arizona. Morgan had warned him that Daph was a manipulative bitch, but she’d been sweet to him in the beginning. Of course, in the end, Morgan had been right.

Then there was Kristina. Owen held a genuine interest in her in the beginning, before she’d set the trap. Owen told himself he was in love with her to justify the marriage. In hindsight, he knew it was only words.

Now there was Stacie. His heart raced just thinking about her.

“I’m in love with her. Really in love with her,” Owen admitted.

“So I’ve heard. I’m a little surprised, big brother. Haven’t you learned by now that real love doesn’t exist?”

“Just because you’re afraid of it doesn’t mean I am.”

“You can’t be afraid of something you don’t believe in. It’s not like it’s a hairy spider that’s going to crawl on me in my sleep. Love is a convenience for people who don’t want to be alone.”

They’d had this debate before. Growing up with a mother who constantly professed her love to the man who beat the shit out of her had left scars on Morgan. She was as determined not to turn into their mother as Owen was not to turn into their father. But he wouldn’t avoid a relationship to prove he was his own man. More than anything, he wanted a family to love and take care of.

Rather than getting into a discussion neither would win, Owen took the high road. “I know what you believe, and I’ll respect that because I love you, but it’s not the path for me and you are going to have to respect that.”

“Because I love you.”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Throw you’re heart away again. When she stomps all over it, I’ll say I told you so with a smile on my face.”

“No you won’t. Besides, this time is different. Stacie is different.” Owen wasn’t just mincing words to try and appease his sister. This time was different. He was following his instincts, listening to his heart. Both pointed to Stacie.

“You’re using the condoms I gave you, right? Because you don’t need to be getting someone else pregnant.”

“That’s a low blow. Just for the record, I’m pretty sure Kristina was never pregnant.”

“Well, regardless, you are being careful, right?”

He’d used the entire stash and had to buy more. Then…oh, hell, that last night they’d been together, he hadn’t used a condom. He’d trusted her. He still wanted to trust her. He hoped Stacie’s deception didn’t extend to the birth control she claimed to be on.

“So, tell me about your interview.” Changing the subject was safer than allowing Morgan to pull that little tidbit of information from him.

“No, no, no, not so fast. This is the real thing, isn’t it? I mean, you’re not sweating like you were when you married Krisbitcha. And you’ve got this little spark in your eye. Not the glaze you had when Daphbitchne got pregnant.”

Owen wanted to laugh at his sister’s nicknames for what she called his ex-bitches. Instead, he ignored the animosity their names stirred and focused on how he felt about Stacie. “Yeah, it’s the real thing.”

“Then why are you sulking?”

“There’s been some problems.”

Morgan laughed. “Wait, you? You’re having problems with a woman?”

“Go to hell,” Owen said.

“Nah, I’m not in the mood for a reunion with dear sweet Dad. So what’s the problem?”

“Secrets. Betrayal. You know, same shit, different day.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“She lives across the hall.” Owen still couldn’t believe she’d been deceiving him all this time. “She never told me. I only found out when I saw her leaving her condo this afternoon.”

“You’ve been seeing her for how long? A couple weeks?”

Owen nodded and he got what Morgan was getting at. From a woman’s perspective, keeping where she lived a secret was likely a safety issue. But still, across the hall?

“Uh, OK. Is that the worst secret she’s kept?”

“She had a fiancé. She didn’t tell me about him until he made a special appearance in Seattle.”

“Had a fiancé? As in, doesn’t have one anymore?”

“Come on, Morgan. I thought you were on my side.”

“Of course I’m on your side. Seriously, big brother, are you so scarred by your ex-bitches that these things bother you? I mean, it doesn’t sound like that big of a deal to me. As long as she’s not trying to trap you.”

“No, actually, she runs at every opportunity, like she’s the one who doesn’t want to be trapped. She went through my stuff when I left her alone in my condo.”

Morgan choked on her beer. After clearing her throat, she asked, “Do you have anything to hide?”

“That’s not the point.”

“So I suppose you told her everything. Because, I seem to recall, just a few months ago, you had taken some girl from work to dinner, told her your sad, sad story, and never heard from her again. I believe you told me you were
done opening your baggage
.” Morgan used air quotes around that last phrase, quoting Owen word for word.

She laughed when he didn’t answer. “I think you’re looking for a reason to run.”

“No, I’m not. I just, I guess I don’t understand why she’d keep all this a secret. And I think there’s more. I think the fiancé abused her somehow. Or someone did.”

“Well, then you have your answer. If she’s got something like that in her past, she’s going to be gun-shy about getting involved, just like you were.”

Owen sighed again. “I don’t know, Morgan. It’s just that I feel a little betrayed.”

“Betrayed because she wanted to know more about you and went through your papers? Hell, Owen, it’s not like she was screwing another guy in your bed. Did you ask her not to go through your papers?”

“I never asked Kristina or Daphne not to sleep with another man while we were married. It’s implied. Just like when you leave someone alone in your apartment, it’s implied that you don’t want them to snoop.”

“Seriously?” Morgan asked with a tone of disbelief. “Owen, you know so little about women.  We snoop. It’s our God-given right to do so. Men are idiots, so snooping is our best offense. How did you meet her anyway?”

“At a bar,” Owen mumbled, knowing Morgan had probably gotten all the details from Bryan.

“How long ago?”

“A couple weeks.”

“And you’re in love with her. Is she that good?”

Owen was not going to let his sister in on his sex life. She may have sent him the condoms, but she didn’t need to know how amazing it was to use them. He also didn’t like that she was implying his feelings were based on sex. They weren’t. He’d felt that jolt of lightning when Stacie had spilled coffee on him at Starbucks. It wasn’t something he could explain, but it still buzzed through him. Being with her on the ferry, talking after they made love, watching her sketch in Gasworks Park. It all fed the fire. The incredible sex was just the icing on the cake.

“OK, well silence is concurrence. Guess she is that good,” she said. “Well, I think you should get over what you think is her little betrayal and go for it.”

Owen was a little flabbergasted. Morgan never told him to go for it. In fact, she’d always been the voice of warning. And she’d always been right.

“She betrayed me. You’re supposed to tell me to steer clear, move on to the next, something.”

“You never listen to me. Maybe if I tell you to go for it, you won’t.”

“Reverse psychology?”

“Maybe it’ll work this time. Anyway, I can tell this one is different. You seem different. Happy, despite your brooding. I’ve noticed it the last few times we talked on the phone.”

“I thought she was different. I just don’t know what to make of her living across the hall. Why wouldn’t she tell me that?”

“Have you asked her?”

Owen laughed. No, he hadn’t. Would Stacie tell him?

“Let me ask you something…how long did you know her before you slept with her?”

“Bryan didn’t tell you?”

“No. He said you were involved with someone you’d met at a club, that you were in pretty deep. So how long?”

“Uh, you don’t really want to know the answer to that.”

“Either you tell me or I’ll ask Bryan.”

“He won’t tell you.” Bryan was one of two people he could trust in the world without question. Morgan was the other. If he asked either one of them to keep their traps shut, they would.

“I have ways of making him talk.”

Owen did not like the sound of that, especially when that devious smile crossed his sister’s face. “Do not even think about seducing my best friend. He’s a man-whore and you had better still be a virgin.”

“Oh my God. You are such a caveman!”

Owen resisted the need to grunt and pound his chest. He loved his sister. She always had a way of bringing a smile to his face. Even though she hadn’t really helped him understand the situation with Stacie, he was glad to be with her.

“Seriously, Owen. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. Not all women are like Daphne and Kristina. Those two bitches might have had one brain cell between them. Just to be sure, you should introduce me so I can make the judgment call for you. I’m really good at judging people.”

Owen wasn’t sure he wanted to subject Stacie to Morgan’s inquisition. She was worse than an overprotective mother.

“So what’s next?” Morgan asked. “You gonna eat that or take it home?”

“Take it home,” Owen said, poking at the steak one more time. “I didn’t have time to get your room ready, so we’ve got some cleaning up to do before you can hit the sack.

“My room is far away from yours, right? I don’t want to hear any sexy moaning coming from your room.”

“You’re safe tonight,” he said with a smile. As much as he missed Stacie, he still needed time to think, time to wrap his head around his feelings for her. He wanted her back in his bed, but not unless he could get over feeling betrayed. And certainly not with his sister in the next room.

“So what time is your interview tomorrow?” Owen asked. He was excited to have his sister in town, even more so since she’d be moving here in a month to attend the University of Washington School of Nursing. He always knew she’d do great things and was proud that she wanted to pursue an advanced degree in midwifery. She’d applied for a few jobs and planned to view a couple of apartments near the university. So in addition to doing a little recon on this trip, she was also getting ready for the big move.

“Eleven,” Morgan answered, getting up from the table. 

“Traffic won’t be bad that late in the morning. We can leave at ten thirty.”

“Actually, I want to experience the city. Take the bus. Hit a Starbucks. And I won’t be good company before the interview. Being around you will just make me nervous.” she said.

Owen laughed. “Fine, but just don’t get an espresso. You don’t want to be all strung out on caffeine for your interview. I’ve seen you like that. It’s scary.”

Stacie struggled through a night
of headaches and nightmares. The same nightmare launched her out of bed three times, in between icepack treatments. She had finally concluded that they weren’t tension headaches.

After Owen’s suggestion that it was post-traumatic stress from the accident, she thought he might be right. She just wasn’t ready to admit that. The CT scan after the accident had been clear. A follow-up scan was required at three months. The doctor had explained that with head injuries, symptoms could surface months later. She hadn’t gotten around to finding a doctor in Seattle. Maybe it was time to do that.

Stacie’s head hung low as she came off the elevator, still pouting about the situation with Owen. She had wanted to bang on his door first thing, but opted to respect his space, to give him the time he said he needed. So instead, she’d headed to the Starbucks around the corner for an ice cold Frappuccino. Her ulterior motive was to run into Owen. It was Wednesday, so he should be working. Of course, that’s what she’d thought yesterday afternoon when she ran into him in the hall. Hope filled her when she heard a door open.

When a gorgeous woman came out of Owen’s condo, key in hand, locking the door as if the place belonged to her, Stacie felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart. Dressed in a grey tailored suit and black pumps, her wavy black hair hung to her shoulders. She carried a pocket book over one shoulder, a raincoat draped over her arm.

Stacie remembered Owen’s parting words last night. He had someplace to be, needed time. Stacie had believed it was to sort through the rash of information she’d dumped on him, her boring past, the confrontation with Greg. Now, it was apparent he’d just used a line on her. He’d obviously already found another woman to keep his bed warm.

The woman turned, a friendly smile on her face. Stacie realized she was staring, her mouth open in shock, but the woman was too busy putting the keys into her purse to notice Stacie’s blatant gaze. When the woman looked up, Stacie focused on the Frappuccino, taking a long, steady pull from the straw as she bee-lined for her condo.

At the door, Stacie fiddled with her keys, taking in the woman’s trim body and long legs. She stepped confidently in those heels. Of course, Stacie knew the magic of Owen’s touch. She’d left his place enough times with the same confidence in her steps. Stacie used her peripheral vision to track the woman until the elevator doors closed. Then she watched the floor indicator count down while her heart shattered into a million pieces.

Stacie stood paralyzed at her door, tears filling her eyes. She had blown it, waiting too long to tell Owen about her past, about where she lived. And just like that, he had found someone else. I should be happy, she thought. She hadn’t come here looking for a man anyway. It was just a fling. No biggie.

Then why are you crying?

Stacie fumbled with the keys some more and as she tried to unlock the door, a strong pain throbbed across her head. Her stomach lurched, unleashing a wave of nausea and dizziness that forced her to lean against the door to steady herself. It didn’t help.

The nausea roiled, washing through her body like a violent wave on an otherwise calm beach. Gray spots started to fill her vision. She blinked hard, trying to focus on the welcome wreath hanging on the door, but she could tell by the blurry vision that the vertigo had kicked in with a vengeance. The gray spots grew larger and darker. Her vision went completely black and she felt herself falling and falling and...

~~~

Owen was on the elevator from the parking garage. He was surprised to see Jenny when the doors opened on the first floor.

“Hey,” Jenny said as she got in the elevator. Her tone was level, neither friendly nor filled with angst. He knew girls talked, especially best friends, so Jenny probably knew more about him than he wanted to admit. That also meant she knew more about where he stood with Stacie, but the woman wasn’t giving anything away in her stone-like gaze or her voice. He bet she could bluff her way through poker.

“Hey,” Owen said through a forced smile. “Home for lunch?” It was small talk, which Owen hated, but what else could he say to Stacie’s roommate, aside from declaring his love and demanding to know if Stacie felt the same way?

“Kind of.” Jenny sighed, then moved in front of him, keeping her stone face gaze. “Actually, I came home to check on Stace. She had a rough night.”

Owen grimaced. That was probably his fault. He’d avoided her, mostly because he needed time to think. He’d barely gotten any sleep himself.

“I’m on my way to see her, too. We need to talk.”

“Yeah, you guys do. That’s not what I’m worried about though.”

Owen knew Jenny was aware of the headaches, possibly the nightmares, too. He recalled hearing Stacie in the hall with Jenny yesterday. He remembered Jenny asking about a headache and Stacie saying she was fine. He decided to broach the subject with Jenny, hoping she would be more telling than Stacie.

“So what do you know about these headaches and nightmares that Stacie’s having?”

“What has she told you?” Jenny asked.

“She won’t talk about it.”

Jenny sighed. “I think it’s related to the car accident. She’s up several times during the night getting ice. Apparently a cold compress helps with the headaches. I don’t know about the nightmares. I’ve heard her startle awake when I’ve been up working late, but she won’t talk about it with me either.”

Owen had witnessed more than just a startle. “She woke up screaming at my place the other night. I’ve been deployed a few times. I had guys in my unit who went through some pretty traumatic shit, then battled post-traumatic stress. Headaches and nightmares are pretty common. And avoiding talking about it. If she hasn’t seen a doctor, she really needs to. It might be best if we both talk to her.”

“You mean gang up on her.” Jenny smiled as though she liked the idea.

“Power in numbers,” he responded.

The elevator dinged, announcing its arrival to the fifth floor. Owen turned to exit the elevator and saw Stacie lying on the floor in the hall. Jenny kept pace with him as he ran to her. Dropping to his knees, he checked her breathing and pulse. Both were good, strong.

“Call 911,” he directed. “And get a cold cloth.”

~~~

Stacie opened her eyes to find herself in unfamiliar surroundings. Fluorescent lights filled the pastel colored room. Her hand ached and she lifted it to find an IV running from the back of her hand to a bag hanging next to the bed. She turned to the other side of the bed and found Owen and Jenny.

“What happened?” she asked.

“We found you unconscious in the hall outside the condo. We were hoping you could tell us what happened,” Owen said, stroking the top of her head.

Stacie registered the look of concern on Owen’s face. She looked past Owen to Jenny, who had a similar worried look.

Stacie looked up at the sterile white ceiling and recalled the pounding in her head and the wave of nausea. Then everything went black.

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” she said, still staring at the ceiling.

As if on cue, a doctor came in and introduced himself as Dr. Carlson, the attending physician. He was short and slim, thinning gray hair and round spectacles making him look older than he probably was. He placed his clipboard at the foot of the bed and took out a small pen light to examine Stacie. He asked her how she was feeling and took notes while she talked. Then he asked her to tell him about her symptoms.

Stacie described the last couple weeks, when she started experiencing the headaches and the nightmares. She recapped the accident, describing what she could remember outside of her nightmare and what her doctor in Maine had explained. She told Dr. Carlson about the required CT scan that she still had to schedule it here in Seattle.

“Head injuries can be very serious, Ms. Nightingale. We need to get you in for a scan right away. I’m going to call in one of our neurologists for a consultation. I’ll need you to sign a release so that we can get your medical records from Maine. And I’d like to keep you here overnight for observation.”

“Is that really necessary?” Stacie asked on a sigh. She wanted to work things out with Owen.

Oh, MacBeth, that woman. She needed to find out who that woman was coming out of his condo. This was hardly the place to have that conversation.

“It is necessary. Like I said, head injuries can be very serious.” The doctor rattled on some more about the scan and other tests, including blood work. Stacie tried not to tune him out, but all of this was a lot to take. She’d left this morning to go get a Frappuccino. She hadn’t expected to end up in the hospital.

Owen and Jenny stayed with Stacie all afternoon while they waited for the CT scan and the neurologist. Jenny sat in the chair in the corner while Owen held vigil at Stacie’s side, holding her hand and stroking her hair. Exhausted, Stacie passed in and out of sleep.

After a couple of hours, an orderly wheeled Stacie out of the room for the scan. When Stacie returned a short time later, Owen was pacing the room. Stacie smiled at him when the orderly wheeled her back to the bed, hoping all the pacing wasn’t on account of her.

Owen kissed her temple and whispered, “I missed you.”

That was good. He missed her. Maybe that meant he hadn’t been with another woman and that they still had a chance. With Jenny sitting there and the nurses coming in and out constantly, she couldn’t talk to him.

An hour later, after they’d passed the time watching the Discovery channel, Dr. Carlson returned with the neurologist, who was flipping through the results from her scan.

“Ms. Nightingale, the scan shows some mild swelling of the frontal lobe of your brain. You also have some intracranial bleeding,” Dr. Carlson explained. “Dr. Kam is a neurosurgeon. He has some questions for you.”

Stacie’s heart stopped. Her brain was bleeding. There was no way that could be a good thing. She was horrified that she’d ignored the headaches for so long, and terrified at what that could mean.

Dr. Kam extended his small hand in greeting to Stacie. “Ms. Nightingale,” he started.

Stacie interrupted. “Could you please call me Stacie?” she asked, feeling like a school teacher again. Teaching hadn’t been an awful experience. It was, however, part of the past she wanted to leave behind.

Dr. Kam smiled. Handsome, probably in his mid-forties with thick, black hair that had started to show signs of gray. He was shorter than Stacie, with a slim build that was typical of his Asian descent. He wore navy blue scrubs under his white lab coat.

“Stacie, I need to get an idea of when your symptoms started. Chances are the swelling and possibly the bleeding started quite some time before you began experiencing headaches, but some symptoms are behavioral, so you might not associate them with a brain injury. It would help if you could tell me about the accident, what you remember, of course, and about what you’ve been doing since then.”

Stacie sighed and started her story. Again. She had avoided talking about the nightmares and the accident for nearly two months. Now in the last couple of days, she felt like a broken record, telling the same sordid drama over and over.

It was embarrassing, not remember the accident and the craziness of the nightmare. Most of it was very real, even though it was played in reverse and in slow motion. Some of it was just plain bizarre, her mind conjuring up crazy images.

“Since the accident, have you noticed any changes in your behavior? Acting on impulse? Loss of inhibition? Inappropriate behavior?”

Stacie blushed. Owen coughed lightly, as though clearing his throat, while Jenny practically cackled.

Dr. Kam shifted his gaze to Owen, then Jenny, and back to Stacie. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he smiled at her. “Can you explain, please.”

“I’ve been more impulsive than I was before.”

“How so?” the doctor asked.

“Uh, well, I woke up one morning and decided to move here, so I packed my things and left. I didn’t tell anyone. Well, except my brother. Before the accident, I never considered leaving Maine.”

Stacie looked to Owen. Had her pursuit of him in the bar been a result of her head injury? And when they’d made love in the rain on Alki Beach?

“Umm, I guess I’ve been experiencing a loss of inhibition, as well.” She squeezed Owen’s hand tightly. “I’d rather not explain the details.”

The doctor smiled, as though he knew all of her and Owen’s intimate secrets. “Just tell me when it started and how often you experience this kind of behavior.”

Stacie thought about the timeline and explained to Dr. Kam that the first few times, she thought it was just alcohol-induced. She could recall times when alcohol wasn’t really involved. She tallied up a half dozen episodes, mostly related to her promiscuous behavior with Owen.

Owen smiled at Stacie. “Don’t forget about the chips.”

Stacie could feel the burn of embarrassment flood her cheeks. She had forgotten about the chips. Honestly, she had hoped to forget about it forever. “I, umm, helped myself to this woman’s chips at a Sounders game.” She relayed the whole story, hoping the doctor wouldn’t judge her.

“Well,” Dr. Kam said to her, “that kind of behavior is pretty common with brain injuries.” He made a note on Stacie’s chart and she felt a little reassured. At least there was a reason why she’d acted so crazy.