Happily Never After (9 page)

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Authors: Bess George

BOOK: Happily Never After
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Chapter 11

Kelsey spent the morning fixated on the tiled ceiling and thinking about her life since the attack. Until yesterday she believed she could work through the panic attacks on her own. The truth was crystal clear. She hadn’t dealt with her issues at all but allowed them to dictate how she lived.

At first, shame over her actions caused her to re-live the accident again and again. At some point during her self-assessment, chagrin changed to resolve.

Maintaining a calm façade while watching television took all her effort. The determination to take back control of her life consumed her.

David arrived and fussed over her until she threatened to harm him if he didn’t leave and go to the office. Her shoulders slumped in relief when Ann showed up. She waited to bring up the subject until her friend settled in a chair beside the bed, and they finished the preliminary small talk.

“I’m glad you stopped by.” A nervous tremor made her voice soft. “Do you remember what we talked about the first day I came by?”

“As I recall, we conversed on several different topics. Why don’t you make this easier by telling me what’s got you so agitated?” Ann reached for her hand.

A heaviness in her chest made breathing hard. “You were right. It’s time for me to get more counseling. I can’t do this on my own.”

Once they started, she couldn’t stop the sobs coming from deep within. Ann used one hand to soothe her as if she were still a child.

“Kelsey, don’t be ashamed of asking for help. They can find a way for you to deal with the mixed emotions you’re having and start the healing process.”

When her flood of tears had reduced to the hiccups, an enormous burden seemed to lift from her spirit. She laughed at herself and desperately accepted the tissues her friend offered.

“David reminded me last night that being a prosecutor is a simply a job. I should worry about my health first, and everything else will fall into place.”

Ann chuckled. “I always believed the first step is the hardest. Now, you’ve made it. What can I do to help?”

“You mentioned a group at the center. Is there someone I could make an appointment with?”

“Riley Smith is a local psychologist who specializes in PTSD. His meetings are what’s called psychotherapy, or in terms you can actually understand, talk therapy. It’s a group session. If you want to see him one-on-one, you can make an appointment to meet at his office.”

“When do they meet? Do I just show up?” It felt strange to feel any kind of excitement again after such a long time.

“Sunday at four. I’ll let him know to expect you. There are usually around ten to fifteen people at each meeting, so you talk as much or as little as you want. Should I come back later and give you a lift home?”

Kelsey shook her head. “I was told that I would have to wait for a doctor to make rounds. David is coming back to take me home.”

Ann gave her one last hug. “Okay, well, I’m going to a meeting. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. I’ll see you before or after your session on Sunday.”

By four o’clock she was restless, and a little ticked off that no one had shown up to release her. Guilt speared her conscience but didn’t stop her from pushing the call button.

In a few minutes, a nurse entered the room carrying a blue vase brimming with yellow and white daisies. “I was coming down to monitor your vitals, and these came for you. Can I get you something?”

“A ticket out of here.” She shot the nurse a teasing grin. “I’m beginning to doubt there even is a so-called doctor.”

She accepted the delivery of flowers from the nurse and breathed in a little of the outdoors before she opened a small envelope and withdrew the card.
Heard you got hurt. Hope you get better soon. The first cup is on me.
She tucked the little note back inside. This accident must be making the headlines if Joe had already found out.

“I assure you that he’s real, and he’s on the way. I’ve worked the desk all day, and you sure do have a nice boyfriend. He’s called several times to check your status. We couldn’t give any details over the phone, but he was happy knowing you were still here and being taken care of.”

A trickle of unease crawled up her spine at the other woman’s words. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Did he leave a name?”

The nurse took the flowers from her and placed them on a table next to the bed. “Sorry, if he did, I don’t remember it.”

A doctor strode into the room and ended their conversation. “Hello, Ms. Brackston. Are you ready to get out of here?” He shined a little bright light into her eyes and began poking her all over without waiting for an answer. “Everything appears to be back to normal. You may be dealing with a headache for a day or two, and you should take things easy. You can get dressed while we finish the paperwork.”

Bode entered carrying one of her small overnight bags. The doctor mumbled a few words of hello to him on the way out.

Still grumpy about sitting all day, she huffed at Bode. “It’s about time. I sat here all day watching soap operas. I should have been out of here this morning.”

“Come on, Princess, let’s get you dressed.” He smiled at her while he walked over to the bed.

She punched him in the arm with a frown. “Why do you insist on doing that?”

“Doing what? Try to help you?” He rubbed his arm and asked in a dry tone.

She snorted. “You know what. Why do you keep calling me Princess when you know it irritates me?”

“Exactly!” A mischievous grin lit his face, and her heart flipped.

Using one hand to steady her and the other to reach into a small bag, he hauled out a T-shirt and sweats. She gasped in horror when he handed her a bra and pair of panties.

“Oh. My. Lord. You went through my underwear drawer?”

“Kelsey, believe it or not, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen a woman’s panties.”

Shaking her head, she snatched the clothes out of his hand and began the slow and painful shuffle to the restroom. She refused to acknowledge any dizziness in case they decided to keep her in the hospital.

The simple process of getting dressed used every ounce of strength that she had. When weakness threatened to buckle her knees, she sat down on the toilet seat to rest. It took almost twenty minutes, but she managed to get her clothes on and go back into the room.

Bode leaned against the bed talking on his cell phone. His tone let her know he wasn’t happy. He wore the scowl she already recognized. He hung up and helped her sit down in the wheelchair before placing the bag in her lap.

She bent forward to grab the vase, but he got there first.

“So, who’s Joe?” His voice remained neutral as he handed her the flowers.

“He’s a guy I met at the gym. We go to the same coffee shop. The chain of gossip in this town is in full force. He already heard the news and wanted to wish me well. It was sweet of him to think of me.”


Sweet,”
Bode muttered as the nurse walked in and started fussing over her. He left to get the truck and by the time she arrived downstairs he waited at the curb. Ignoring her protests, he lifted her up from the wheelchair and placed her in the passenger seat.

He maneuvered into traffic as something occurred to her. “Why didn’t David pick me up?”

Bode grunted. “He called me during a break in the trial. It looks like it will run long today, so I volunteered. I was coming by with your clothes anyway.”

One hand absently played with her hair while she stared out the side window mulling over the mystery caller. Buildings and strip malls flew by unnoticed. Maybe the nurse just assumed it was a boyfriend and David had called to check on her. Bode would’ve identified himself as a detective. Who else could it be since she was a stranger in town? She’d almost worked up the nerve to bring the subject up when he broke the silence.

“They found the car that hit you.” His gruff tone held a note of annoyance. “It was reported as stolen. We still don’t know who was driving, but it appears to be a random event. I don’t want to leave you alone right now, but I need to go to another scene. I can take you to David’s or Ann’s. Your choice.”

“I’d rather just go to my apartment for a long hot bath. I want to rest and relax. Call later if you’d like, but I’m going home.”

A frown creased his forehead. “That’s not a good idea. They determined that you have a slight concussion, and you’re weak as a kitten.”

His frustration increased the tension between them, but she was too unsettled to worry about it. Yesterday had been a heck of a day for her, and she needed to be in control again. Her fists bunched at her sides. “Like you said, it’s my decision and I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.”

The dark thundercloud on his face caused her to give an internal flinch, but she refused to back down now.

The lady D.A. had fascinated Glade since his first day in Redding. He’d noticed her while he was following the cop around. The cop ended up giving her a ride to the hotel because of a flat tire. From the first moment he saw her, she’d haunted him.

He ran his callused finger across the top of her nightgown, and it snagged on the elegant lace. After arriving in town, he’d spent his days watching. Waiting. He came here with a thirst for revenge. Now, he wasn’t so sure that was enough.

His money was running low, and he should be out looking for work. Instead, he’d wasted away the entire day here in her apartment. Touching the things that were important to her. The delicate scent of her citrusy perfume titillated his senses when he pressed the silky garment to his nose.
Orange blossoms and sunshine
.

His thoughts were reverent as he read another page in her leather-bound journal. His plan to break in, peek at her things, and get out before anyone saw him changed with the discovery of her diary. Page after page of her most personal reflections kept him rooted to the spot.

Several times today he’d called the hospital to make sure they hadn’t released her. If he swiped the book when he left, she’d know someone had been here. He didn’t want to scare her.

Yet.

This particular journal covered the interval from before her shooting until the present. The transformation was what drew him in like a moth to a flame. Before the attack, work had consumed her days. Dull and lifeless. But now, now she was broken. His mama had always said, like calls to like.

The clock’s time caught his eye.
Damn, he’d gotten lost in his daydreams
. Jumping up from the chair, he dialed the disposable cell he’d purchased. “Hi, Lucy. I’m with Endless Flowers and have a delivery for a Kelsey Brackston. Oh, I see. Okay, thanks, I’ll let the sender know.”

The gabby nurse revealed that the cop was bringing her home. His chest heaved from the raw urge to throw the phone against the wall. Taking a deep breath to calm down, he tossed the journal on her bed. If he didn’t leave now, they might see him, and ruin his plans.

And what would be the fun in that?

For the first time, the silence between them was uncomfortable. Bode parked next to the driveway of Kelsey’s apartment. He helped her get out and walk up the stairs. A small crack revealed the door wasn’t quite shut. Pushing her behind him, he studied the area.

She tried to peek around him, but he held her back with his body. “Did you lock the door after getting my clothes?”

“Wait here.”

He unclipped his gun and used one hand to ease the door open. She clung to the railing when her legs threatened to give way.
What if someone was still here? What if they hurt Bode? What if—

She jumped when he came back out on the porch.

“It’s clear. It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here,” he said.

They entered her modest living room together, but Bode strode on into the bedroom. He was pulling clothes from a drawer when she entered the room.

Mouth gaping, she stared at him in confusion. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m taking you over to David’s.”

Anger and fear combined to make a nasty cocktail. She stalked to the dresser and yanked her clothes out of his hands. “No, you’re not.”

He picked up another pair of jeans from the stack. “I can’t be one hundred percent sure that I closed the door all the way when I left, and that no one has been here. Your brains are still scrambled from the accident so I’m making the decision for you.”

His hand almost didn’t get out of the way before she slammed the drawer shut. Her jaw clenched hard enough to crack a molar. “I’m. Not. Going. Anywhere. Stop trying to control me.”

Frustration radiated from his big body as he loomed over her. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe as a picture of her father swam in her consciousness. Dominating and overpowering her small mother. There wasn’t enough air in the room. She couldn’t do this.

“Please just leave,” she whispered.

His eyes bored into hers. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. You're being stupid about not going to stay with someone. You don’t need to be by yourself.”

Stupid.
Stupid?

She choked on disbelief and threw her words at him like stones. “Get. Out.”

One finger tugged at the collar of his shirt, his guilt easy for her to see. “If you don’t go to David’s, I’ll have to get things settled so I can come back to check on you. My plate is full, and you’re not helping matters by being hard headed.”

Did the man not have any filters on the words spewing out of his mouth? She flashed him a look of disdain. “If you’re through calling me names, it’s time for you to leave.”

Both hands flew into the air in surrender. He stalked to the front door. She trailed along behind. Opening the door, he stepped outside on the porch before pivoting back to her.

“You’re being—”

She held up one hand to stop him, resisting the urge to punch her hero smack dab in the nose. “Stop. It’ll be better for both of us if you don’t finish that sentence.”

Her tone was low and controlled when she continued in spite of his flinty glare. “Don’t worry about me. Believe me when I tell you that you’ve done quite enough for one day. Don’t bother coming back or calling because I won’t answer.”

She then picked her spirits up by slamming the door in his clueless face.

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