Lost Without You: Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series (29 page)

I count to ten, then peek above the vinyl seats, seeing nothing. He didn’t see me. Not taking any chances, I pull myself down the stairs, not stopping until I’ve hit the bottom.

As I close the cabin door, I scour the room for any resemblance of a key. Searching through drawers and under piles of clothes, I find nothing. I rip the cabin apart, cursing his name as I ransack the room. Nothing.
Please, don’t let it be above deck. I can’t take the chance of his seeing me.
I can try to wait it out, wait for it to get dark. No, when he doesn’t find me on the island, he’ll eventually look here, and there’s no fucking way I’m going to let that happen.

I take a deep breath and open the door just enough for me to see. When the coast reads clear, I creep, slow at first, up the steps toward the captain’s chair. Picking up speed, I crouch high enough to see, but low enough to be partially covered by the back cushions. I desperately search for a key and am rewarded when I find it in the ignition.

Just as I’m about to turn the engines over, a loud bang ricochets from behind me. Spinning around, I catch Evan jumping onto the back of the boat. Scrambling backward, I attempt to put as much distance between us as I can, but he reaches out, grabbing the back of my hair.

Pulling me back, I’m forced to look into his wild eyes. “I told you I would find you,” he says, sneering.

“You don’t have to do this,” I plead, trying to convince the Evan who once loved me to stop this madness.

Smacking me hard across the face, I fall forward, the side of my head bouncing off the side of the boat with a
thud
. “If I can’t have you, no one can,” he snarls. Curling up into a ball, I protect my head and pray the end is quick. His foot connects with my ribs and air explodes out of my lungs.

“Please, Evan,” I plead, wincing with every labored breath.

“No!” he screams, prying my hand away from my covered head. My hands are covered with blood from a gash on my forehead and I’m lightheaded.

I struggle against his grip as he drags my limp body off the boat and across the dock, back toward the cottage, but I’m too weak. The pain radiating from my shoulder is too much to bear and stars dance across my vision. Placing his hands around my neck, he squeezes tight. Pushing against his massive chest is useless; he’s too strong.

My lungs burn from lack of oxygen and I beat against his chest helplessly. Evan stands over me, blocking any air in or out of my lungs. My vision starts to darken, lingering on the edge of consciousness. Before it goes completely black, a blur appears and Evan is no longer on top of me.

Desperate to fill my lungs with air, I gasp and cough, and with each breath, my vision begins to return. With my breathing almost back to normal, I can focus on saving myself. Wrenching my body, I see movement in the dusk, but it’s the grunting and groaning that has my attention. Chase.

Struggling to stand, the sharp pain radiating from my shoulder causes me to collapse back onto the hard dock.

I drag my limp body toward the action, needing to be with Chase. As I get closer, I see Evan swinging wildly at Chase. Chase, seeming to have the upper hand, finds an opening, nailing Evan square in the jaw, knocking him down.

Chase grabs Evan by the shirt, dragging him back up. “C’mon, you Son of a bitch! Get up!” Evan staggers to his feet, swinging wildly, never even coming close to Chase.

“Fuck you,” Evan sputters, taking another swing.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Chase growls low in his throat, throwing a right hook, landing across Evan’s left cheek. Spinning, Evan falls again, but this time, Chase dives on top. “I’ll kill you.”

“Chase,” I squeak out. He freezes, his fist in mid-air. Spinning around, he sees me. The look on his face frightens me, but I know it isn’t meant for me. It’s a look of sheer hatred, anger, and fear all balled up into one.

“Olivia,” he whispers, his expression changing to shock as he looks me over, “what has he done?”

“You found me,” I breathe, barely holding on to consciousness.

“Of course I did.” He reaches out to touch me, but I cringe. “Tell me where it hurts,” he asks, concern etched on his face.

“Everywhere.”

A single tear runs down his face and everything I’ve been through comes to the surface in a gut-wrenching sob.

“I thought—”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Chase says, gently stroking my face. “I’m going to call for help.”

Standing, he pulls his cell phone from his pocket and dials. “Chase,” I call out, the darkness calling me.

“Yes, baby,” he says, running over.

“I have to tell you something.”

“Don’t talk. It can wait.”

“No. No, it can’t,” I say, my voice hoarse. He bends down, wiping the mix of blood and tears from my cheeks. “I’ve wanted to say this for so long, and it can’t wait.”

“Okay, baby.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you on the dock, right here.”

“Olivia, stay with me,” Chase begs. “I was lost without you. Please, stay awake.”

“I love you, Chase.” A final tear runs down my cheek as my vision starts to blur, then slowly fades to black.

There is nothing but pain. My head, my limbs . . . burning pain. I try to open my eyes, but my body betrays me. I feel like I’m floating, almost dreaming, but I wouldn’t feel pain in a dream, would I? Muffled sounds break through, like words sloshing under water.

Subtle beeping noises are in the background, but I don’t know why. The sounds are getting closer, and slowly becoming clearer. People are talking, but who? No! What if it’s Evan? I need to wake up, to get away. The beeping sounds get faster and I hear more voices. It’s then that I hear Chase. He sounds anguished, begging someone to do something. Before I can hear any more, I’m dragged back down into the darkness.

As I slowly awaken, I’m blinded by bright light. Squeezing my eyes shut, I assess my situation. I move my fingers and wiggle my toes. My body is stiff and sore. I try to open my eyes again, slowly this time. It’s then that I feel a tube shoved down my throat. “Olivia, thank God you’re awake,” he says, relieved. I reach for the tube protruding out of my mouth, but Chase stops me. “Let me call a doctor.” Turning his head, he yells down the hall, “I need a doctor in here!”

A minute later, people flood the room. I have nurses hovering over me and a doctor checking the beeping monitors next to me. Nodding to himself, the doctor turns to me, and says, “Olivia, it’s good to see you awake. Can you hear me?” I slowly nod my head since I can’t speak. “I’m Dr. Hunter. It seems you gave us quite a scare.”

Chase stands on the opposite side of the bed, close to my head. “Mr. Remington, could you step out of the room for a moment?”

“Not a chance. I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

“Fine, but I need you to stand over there.” He points to the far side of the room.

“Fine,” Chase snaps, and stalks to the corner.

Dr. Hunter starts to examine me, checking my reflexes first. He asks me to touch my nose and squeeze my fists. Shooting pain spreads down my arm as I try to lift it. Gripping my arm gently, he turns to the nurses. “Her oxygen level is good, let’s take out the ET tube.”

“Doctor, how is she?” Chase asked, anguish in his voice.

“Her vitals are good, and she’s awake and alert. So far, so good.”

Turning back to me, he starts to explain what he’s doing. “We’re going to take out the breathing tube now.” He turns to one of the nurses. “I’m ready to extubate. Olivia, I need you to take a deep breath and cough when I say. Okay?” I nod.

One of the nurses removes the tape holding the tube in place while another suctions my mouth. “Okay, Olivia. Take a deep breath and cough.” I glance over at Chase, who looks pale.

“Very good, Olivia. Now, don’t try to talk. Your throat is dry and irritated from the ET tube. If you need something, write it down.”

“When can she be released?” Chase asks Dr. Hunter.

“We’re keeping her here for observation overnight, at the least.” Turning to me, he says, “You’ve been through a lot. You needed surgery to remove a subdural hematoma. That’s when blood collects between the layers of tissue that surround the brain. The outermost layer is called the dura, and the bleeding occurs between the dura and the next layer, the arachnoid. The bleeding was under the skull and outside the brain, not in the brain itself. As blood accumulates, pressure on the brain increases. We needed to remove the clot to decrease the pressure. You also have a dislocated shoulder, a zygomatic fracture, and a concussion, among other bruises.” My face twists in to a frown and the doctor chuckles. “A fractured cheek. You need to take it easy for a while.” He turns to Chase. “Don’t let her overdo it. She needs rest.”

As the doctor and his entourage leave, Chase comes back over to my bed. “Baby, I was so worried,” he chokes out, unable to hide the pain in his voice. I try to whisper, but Chase puts his finger over my lips to silence me. “It’s my turn to speak now.” He sits on the edge of the bed, clearly nervous. “I thought I lost you. Lying here, you looked so helpless.” His jaw clenches and his eyes flash. “Evan will never hurt you again, that I can promise.”

My heart rate accelerates at the sound of Evan’s name. “Don’t worry, he isn’t dead. He has you to thank for that. If you didn’t call my name when you did . . .” Chase’s jaw ticks, his eyes dull and lifeless.

“Chase,” I whisper, my voice dry and raspy.

“Don’t talk. Here, sip this.” He holds a glass of water with a straw. “Slow sips, Olivia,” he scolds. When I’m finished, he places it on the table beside me.

My eyelids feel like lead bricks and I have a hard time keeping them open. Chase, seeing my need to rest, breathes, “Sleep, my beautiful angel.”

I sense Chase’s presence before I open my eyes. Chase is slouched in the chair, top buttons of his shirt undone, his tie loosely hanging around his neck—the exact same shirt and tie he had on when I saw him last—snoring softly. Finding the remote for the bed, I sit myself up.

Chase begins to stir and practically leaps out of the chair.

“Hi,” I manage to squeak out. My throat is still irritated, but if I whisper, it doesn’t hurt too much.

“Hello, beautiful.” Standing, he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. He lifts his hand and gently strokes my good cheek with the back of his fingers.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“Know what?”

“Evan told me he texted you, with my phone,” I say, my voice barely audible.

“Yes, he did. Only, I knew it wasn’t you.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did. I know you, and you would never do that. Besides, the lingo wasn’t you.” I give him a funny look and he shrugs. “The text said things you would never say, at least not the way they were written.”

“Oh.”

“As soon as I read the text, I called Brenda to see what was up. She said she hadn’t heard from you, which was a big red flag. If you were that pissed, I knew you would have called her.” He’s right. She would have been my first call.

“Go on.”

“Once she confirmed my suspicions, I was on the next flight home.”

Scooting back on the bed slightly, I wince from the pain emanating from my shoulder. Chase gives me a look of concern, but I assure him I’m fine. “So, how long before you tracked me down?” Chase runs his hands through his hair, a sign of distress I know all too well. “Chase, how long?”