Broken Ground: (Broken Series Book 1) (10 page)

Why the fuck are the halls arranged like a honeycomb. What sadistic bastard designed this shit?

I got to the hallway that should have housed room 318 but after 317, there was a fucking storage closet. I was about to fucking break something. Where the hell was she? I pulled up my contact list and scrolled through, looking for Vanessa's number as I stomped down the hall. She worked in this maze, maybe she could help.

I turned yet another corner and, thank God, ran smack into Spencer. He looked at me as if I was a two-year-old. "Would you quit playing in the halls and get your ass in here. She's asking for you."

He turned, and I followed him to the room, still two corridors away.

When I crossed the threshold, I stopped.

She looked so small, pale, fragile. She wasn't supposed to look like that. She was supposed to be up running around like she was 18 instead of nearly 80, burning up the streets and calling us constantly to tell us about her crazy adventures. The woman in that bed looked nothing like her. Tubes and monitors were dripping and beeping. It wasn't right.

Her eyes opened as Spencer took a seat by the impersonal motorized bed. When she saw me, she smiled, a thin toothless smile that did nothing to ease my nerves. They'd taken her teeth? What the fuck for? I'd never seen her without them, not ever. It seemed like such an indignity to have them taken from her.

The longer I stood there, the more pissed off I got. At the hospital for treating her like an old lady, at Spencer for not telling me sooner that she had been sick, and mostly at her for coming so close to doing the one thing she promised she'd never do.

She motioned me over, but I stayed by the door.

"You said it was just a cold." I accused.

She sighed and pursed her lips. "I thought it was. It's not like I wanted to get pneumonia, Clay. It just happened."

"You've had it for weeks, and it never occurred to you to get checked out? You lied when you talked to us on the phone. Said you'd just had a physical and you were fine. You told me Vanessa had checked you out herself. Surely your daughter the nurse would have known you were sick, right?" I glared at her and shook my head. "She didn't know because you never saw her, dammit. It was a lie, Gran." I paced by the foot of the bed, needing to keep moving or I'd throw something. "Are you giving up on us? On me?" I hadn't meant for my voice to sound so damn small, but she promised.

"No, honey. I'm not giving up on anything. I'm just a stubborn old fool who thought a little Vapo Rub was the cure for everything. I'll be out of here tomorrow and good as new in a few days." She looked over at Spencer and winked. "I have to be. I've got concert tickets for next weekend, and it's someone else's turn to spring for the beer."

He laughed and squeezed her hand, but I wasn't to be moved. I was fucking pissed, and no amount of joking was going to fix it. "That's just great, you two laugh it up. Real funny sitting here staring at your IV and catheter bags hanging from the bed. Fucking hilarious." I stepped over to the door. "I'll check on you tomorrow. I need some air."

I walked out and closed the door behind me.

As if I wasn't pissed enough, now I had to find my fucking way out of this place.

When I finally located an elevator, I selected the first floor and waited to see where the fuck it would spit me out. I hadn't been this angry in a long damn time. I needed to get away from the smell of antiseptic and into some place that smelled of booze and cigarette smoke.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out into another bland hallway. Fuck. Weren't there signs around here somewhere to tell you where to go? I looked both ways, neither looking like the way out. Randomly choosing a direction, I ground my teeth and hoped for the best.

Soon I came up on a set of double doors marked 'Emergency' and knew salvation was in sight. There had to be an exit through there.

I pushed the metal plate that opened the automatic doors and stepped aside as an orderly pushed through with a gurney. I turned to peer at the elderly woman he was transporting, and my heart sank again. Gran had probably looked like that as they wheeled her to her room.

It was with a profound sadness that I turned and stepped into the emergency room and nearly knocked over the poor woman who had been walking by.

She had her head down, long mahogany hair framing her face and obscuring it from view. I reached out to steady her, and she gasped. I looked on in horror as my hand unfurled from around her badly bruised upper arm. Shit! "Oh God, I'm so sorry Miss. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Are you alright?"

She didn't lift her head, didn't speak, just nodded and scurried off in the direction of the exit. Since I was headed that way myself, I kept an eye on her as she crossed the room. She limped slightly and nearly stumbled over someone's bag on the way out. Hanging her head like she was, it was a wonder she didn't run into the damn wall.

Something about her set off warning bells in the back of my mind.

She slipped out the doors as a young couple with an infant carrier was coming in. I stood back and let them through, but my mind was still focused on the dark-haired woman with the bruises. As soon as I was able, I darted through the door and scanned the area for her. I had nearly given up when I realized she was standing on the curb, several rows across the parking lot talking to a man.

From where I stood, I couldn't make out what they were saying but she seemed to be trying to move away from him. I watched for a moment longer, not wanting to intrude without reason, and nearly jumped out of my skin when she yelled "Get the fuck away from me," right in his face.

I was halfway to them when I saw his hand dart out and lock onto her wrist, keeping her from walking away. The last ten feet or so were a blur of movement I didn't really see. All I saw was his face as he snarled at her. The next thing I knew, I had the little bastard by his shirt collar, pinned against someone's SUV. He was wide-eyed and stunned at first, but that didn't last long. "What the hell are you doing, asshole? I'm trying to talk to my girlfriend, and you swoop in like a lunatic." He struggled against me, unable to get a satisfying grip. "Get the fuck off me before I call the cops, hero!"

I leaned into his face and sneered. "Good idea. Let's call so I can tell them about the bruises all over the woman you were just manhandling. That'll work out really well for you, you fucking pussy."

I slammed his head against the glass to emphasize my point. He glanced at something over my shoulder, and I turned to follow his gaze, secure in the knowledge that he couldn't go anywhere.

The woman was several spaces over, standing beside the open driver's door of a Jeep, peering at us over the hood. I still couldn't make out her face, but there was a flash of green as she turned and climbed into the car, speeding out of the parking lot a moment later.

After I was sure she had made it safely out of there, even waiting for the traffic light to change from yellow to red just in case, I dropped the little prick and watched with glee as he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air. I leaned down close, looking him right in the eye. "If you want to see tomorrow, you'll keep away from her. I've got access to her information, and I might just use that number she gave to check on her. I'd hate to find out you didn't listen. Understand, you little cocksucker? "I didn't have access, Aunt Vanessa would never give out confidential information, but I was convincing enough that he looked persuaded.

He nodded his head vigorously and tried to scoot back out of my reach.

Given my mood, he was lucky I didn't bash his skull in. As I climbed into my truck to leave, the woman's bruised arms flashed in my mind. Yeah, he was lucky I didn't fuck him up. If he ever crossed my path again, I still might.

AS I SNAPPED
back to the present, I stood there watching him. The look of recognition on his face was quickly followed by fear. It took him a minute to get his shit together, and it was one of the best minutes of my whole fucking life.

The worthless piece of shit remembered me.

Good.

Ali stood ramrod straight beside me. She was unaware of the tension between me and Keith because she was fighting her hatred for him. As much as I wanted to torment the little bastard, I had to keep it together for her. She was the one with something to lose here tonight.

Her voice was laced with undisguised disdain as she asked him, "What do you want, Keith?"

He was at least six inches shorter than me, but his shorter frame didn't mean he was weak. He had the build of someone who routinely lifted weights, something he hadn't had when I pinned him against that car all those months ago.

Over-compensating for the humiliation perhaps? No matter. I could still take him. And I intended to, but not tonight. Not this way.

He pointedly ignored me and smirked at her. "Shouldn't you be reserving your spot on the unemployment line? Traitor."

I instantly understood her concern about being at the gala. I wanted to throat punch that little bastard myself.

She gave him a bored expression, making me proud. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere shopping for hair plugs?" When he barely fought the urge to touch his hair, actually raising his hand to check before catching himself, I nearly lost it. Being half a foot taller than him, I could see that his hair was indeed thinning. Ali chuckled. "Unlike you, I have no reason to worry. Can't prove something that didn't happen." She turned and lifted her glass. "If you don't mind, the smell of cowardice is quite pungent, and it's rolling off of you in waves. Perhaps there's some sort of deodorizing spray you could use next time." She pinned him with narrowed eyes as she lowered her voice, "Until then, fuck off."

He looked affronted but after his eyes darted to me, he bit back his reply.

Good idea, fucker.

When he slinked away with beet red ears and a childish scowl, I couldn't help laughing. She really did know how to handle him. But I wasn't done with him yet. Far from it.

I peered over at her, at the look of satisfaction and relief on her face, and I knew I couldn't tell her what I'd remembered. She would be mortified. She had way too much pride to take it well, and I was way too invested to give her a reason to push me away. No matter what, she couldn't know that I knew.

She met my eye and tapped my glass with hers in celebration, but all I kept seeing were those damn bruises.

After Ali had dispatched of Keith, she seemed to relax and enjoy the evening. She even managed to keep her composure during the presentations, which was not an easy feat.

I had damn-near cried and I was a hardass.

When they brought out some of the families who the charity sponsored, you could have heard a pin drop. As the parents stood and tearily spoke of their last days with their children, of the gift of being able to have that time with their babies without worrying about the financial repercussions of missing work, it tore my heart out.

Without charities like Outreach Hospice, parents would have to choose. Go to work so you could feed your family and pay for your child's medications or stay home with them and watch them suffer without. No one should have to make such choices when they're already in so much pain.

One of the last speeches was to honor the donors to the charity and included the level of sponsorship each had provided though they didn't mention exact figures.

I couldn't help watching Ali as the last of the speeches ended. She stood and clapped, as we all did, but her hands were trembling, and her whole body shook. This charity meant something more to her, something deeply personal.

The possible reasons for that frightened me.

After the formalities were over, Mr. Glenn approached us again, all smiles. He offered his hand, and I shook it. "I can't thank you enough, Mr. McGavran. Your donation and those of your associates were the largest of the evening. I want you to know that your generosity is much appreciated." I said nothing, just shook his hand firmly and released him.

He turned to Ali and gave her a warm smile. "Alison, I must say that I'm impressed with your gumption. You've handled yourself well throughout everything. It's a sign of true class and dedication, and it didn't go unnoticed." He shook her hand as well. "I'll be in touch soon. Enjoy your leave of absence, I suspect it won't last much longer."

She smiled and thanked him, looking encouraged. When he left us once again, I asked if she wanted to stay a while longer. She grabbed me by the hand and pulled me onto the dance floor by way of reply.

Several drinks and dances later, Ali started winding down. She excused herself to powder her nose before leaving. I headed off to retrieve my jacket, having checked it when it became cumbersome on the dance floor. The evening replayed in my mind as I waited for the attendant to produce my garment. The feel of her in my arms, the squeals of delight when I dipped her and spun her across the floor. It was like being drunk without touching a drop. She did that to me just by being close. It was addictive.