Never Been Ready (3 page)

"Hey, how are you doing?" I asked.

He looked up at me and at that moment, I knew what losing a patient meant to him. He was destroyed.

"Oh God, Logan...I'm sorry," I said, pulling him into a tight hug.

I'd lost patients before. I knew the pain and guilt, worrying that I could have done more. I remembered the few I'd lost like it was yesterday. I remembered their names, the parents who grieved the lost lives and the years that had passed by without them.   

"I don't know why this one is affecting me so much more. It's not like this is the first time I've lost someone on the table."

"You're a father now Logan." I said, pulling back from our embrace.

"Every mother you save is Clare. Every child you bandage up is Maddie. It's harder now to separate yourself from your patients because
you
feel so much more."

"You're right. I can't stop thinking about that child. He's parentless now. There's no father on record. We can't find a next of kin. He said they were on their way to visit a close family friend so we are trying to make contact. Social services is on their way."

"Hey, it's okay. You did everything you could. Go home. Be with your wife and daughter and let them help you get through this. I've got this. I'll take care of him until Social Services come, all right?"

He nodded before pulling me into another hug.

We said our good-byes, and I made my way towards the room that held the child. His name was Connor. He sustained only mild injuries from the accident, since he'd been in the back of the car.

Right before I was about to push open the door open, I paused, feeling panic rise in my chest.

What was I doing?

I should find someone else to go in there —a mother maybe, someone who would know what to say or do. I didn't have any experience with children beyond my goddaughter, Maddie. What the hell did I know about caring for a hopeless child? Isn't that something I should have learned from my own parents? All I learned from my mother and father was how to abandon and hurt. 

Looking around the empty hallway, I realized there was no one else. It was only me. I had to do something. I entered the room, and my heart fell. He was sitting in the center of the bed with knees pulled to the center of his chest and his head lowered. He was clutching something in his left hand, but I couldn't make out what it was.
A paper, or a photo maybe?
Tears trickled down his legs, and I heard him heave in a breath as he sobbed.

As I clicked the door shut, his eyes jerked up and found me. They were hazel and looked like paint splatters. Blue, green, and brown were mixed together to create one of the most beautiful sets of eyes I'd ever seen. They were so unique, yet familiar. I felt the overwhelming need to pull him into my arms and tell him everything would be okay even though I had no proof otherwise.

"Who are you?" he questioned.

"I'm Leah."

"Are you here to take me away?" he asked cautiously.

"No, I'm not taking you anywhere. I'm a nurse."

"They already put bandages on me."

"I know," I said.

"So, why are you here?" he asked softly. He quickly wiped away the tears from his eyes in a halfhearted effort to cover up the fact that he'd been crying.

"I'm here so you don't have to be alone. You can talk to me if you want, or you can ignore me, but I'm going to sit here with you until it's time to leave because I think you need a friend right now."

"You're not my friend," he retorted.

"No, but I'd like to be."

~Declan~

The flight attendant had just announced our final descent into Richmond. In twenty minutes, I would be stepping foot in Virginia for the first time in six months. After months of delays, we were finally ready to start filming the Civil War movie I was both the star and executive producer. If given the choice, I would hand the acting role to someone else. Let them deal with the constant attention and the never-ending chatter. But that was a condition the studio had put into my contract. If I wanted my name added to the list of producers in the credits, I had to take the lead role. It was an honorary title mostly, but it would hopefully get me to where I wanted to go.

Acting was never my intention. I had come to Hollywood to direct, but I'd had a hard time getting my foot in the door. So, I'd auditioned for a small role, and got it. One thing had led to another and before I knew it, acting had become my full-time career.

When a little known film I'd done struck it big with several Oscar nominations last year, my name had been plastered over every gossip magazine and Internet site known to man. I had been dubbed the newest up-and-coming Hollywood hunk.

I fucking hated it.

I couldn't leave my apartment for weeks without some dick with a camera following me around asking me about anything from the weather to who I'd fucked last night. I had been offered every role imaginable. I'd turned them all down. I didn't want to be the next action hero or the newest heart-throb. I just wanted to be left alone to retire from acting so I could get behind the camera.

When the script for this movie had come across my desk, I'd seen an opportunity. It had a small budget, and was an independent film —exactly the type of thing I needed. I'd approached the director and asked if I could step in as an assistant director —only. They'd given me a flat-out no, which wasn’t a total surprise since I hadn't directed a single thing since college. But they had offered the title of executive producer —if I agreed to star as well. It was an olive branch and my hope was that by getting my name recognized for something other than acting credit, it could be a step in the right direction.

I'd accepted, hating the fact that I had to add another acting gig to my schedule, but I was grateful for the opportunity. The director needed my name in the starring role to gain the necessary attention. With Declan James, the hot new thing in Hollywood, cast as the lead, they had been able to land a top-notch actress to costar. It was a compromise, but at least I had my foot in the door now. My only wish was that it hadn't taken so long to get going. Spending six months in Hollywood, sitting around while they finalized everything, had about killed me.

I'd felt like a caged animal waiting to get out of confinement. All my life, I'd been able to go wherever and do whatever I wanted. It was what I'd demanded and expected, and no one had ever stood in my way. Now that my face was everywhere, I couldn't have a private moment to save my life —which meant that every second of my life was watched and scrutinized. If I walked down the street with a woman, she was automatically my girlfriend. If we were seen together twice, we were obviously engaged. It was fucking ridiculous. I'd managed to hang low long enough that the attention from my last movie had died down a bit. Eventually the paparazzi had gotten bored and stopped stalking my house, but I would still get the occasional flash when going into Starbucks or a club. If my last name were Pitt or Pattinson, I didn't think I would have gotten off so easily. But the entire experience had left me paranoid and edgy.

After six months, I would finally be out. Returning to Richmond, I knew exactly where I was going and who I was going to see first —Leah Morgan.

The blonde bombshell had become a permanent fixture in my mind since that one amazing night we'd spent together so many months ago. She haunted me, filled my dreams and made me ache. I'd tried to rid myself of her by losing myself in other women but no matter how beautiful, or sexy, they didn't hold a fucking candle to Leah. It was her face I'd pictured every time I'd come, her body I'd felt every time I touched another and her moans I'd heard echoing through my ears.

She was like an addiction running rampant in my system, and I knew only one way to cure it.

The Captain came on the intercom and said something, probably telling the flight attendant to plant her ass in her seat. The plane angled downward toward the ground and the landing gear locked into place. I looked out the window and saw the darkened city, taking note of the lights dotting the landscape. Anticipation took over as I waited for the plane to touch down. I had been waiting for this moment for months now —ever since I'd decided Leah's invasion of my mind wasn't going to go away on its own. It was going to require drastic measures. I never slept with the same female twice. Repeat performances in one night were fine, encouraged even, but I never, ever returned for seconds. That made them think you had feelings, and I didn't.

Couldn't. Wouldn't. Not ever again.

I wasn't built that way anymore. Monogamy wasn't something I wanted with anyone. I was sure it worked out for some people. But for the majority?
No.
It was something people did out of obligation or guilt, even though they would rather be screwing their hot secretary or racquetball instructor.

So, I had rules —well, one rule really. Never sleep with the same woman twice. It was a brilliant fucking rule, and it had worked —until Leah. I didn't know what it was that had me so hooked. When I'd picked her out in that bar so many months ago, I had pegged her as just another gorgeous woman. Granted, I'd never seen any other woman who equaled her. With her long honey-wheat hair, striking blue eyes and curves that could kill a man, she was the whole fucking package. The fact that she was friends with Logan's girlfriend just made things easier. She would have been going home with me that night no matter the circumstances. When we'd all sat down together, she had begun fumbling all over her words, and I'd thought "bingo", knowing I had her. The only coherent thing I had gotten out of her all night was the mention of a cemetery when I'd asked her about the history of Richmond.

Trusting my instincts, we had stopped by the old cemetery that dated back several hundred years so I could get a good look for the camera crew to consider as a possible location. Now the location was actually going to be used, thanks to me. As I roamed, taking note of headstones of generals and fallen soldiers, and the various different angles that could be shot, she had seen me. No, it had been more than that. She had seen through me. I'd never felt so exposed before. Usually women saw what they wanted to see with me, and I would let them. It was easier that way. Let them sleep with the playboy movie star for a night, and their expectations are set nearly as high. When I would disappear the next day, they expected it. Leah? She had seen the real me, and it was chilling.

I'd never craved a woman after she left my bed like I did with Leah. Days, weeks and now months after that night, I still remembered everything —her smell, the touch of her skin and the way she had trembled when she broke apart beneath me. It had to stop. I couldn't go on like this, obsessing about a woman I didn't want anything permanent with. I figured after one more night, maybe two, with her...and I'd be cured. I could move on with my life —without the beautiful blonde ghost following my every step. It was a good plan. It was goddamn brilliant. Soon, I'd be back to my normal self again, and I could put this crazy Leah business behind me.

I took a deep breath of air as the plane landed and made its way to the gate. We all filed out of the plane, and while I walked into the terminal, I swore I could hear laughter in my head. It was as if my conscience were saying,
you think you're going to get off that easy?

Yeah, buddy I do.

I was so fucking wrong.

~Leah~

Looking into the bathroom mirror, I finished securing my blonde hair into a messy bun on the top my head and then I removed my makeup. I took a quick glance at my reflection, seeing the spitting image of my mother staring back at me and I sighed before shutting off the light and walking into my bedroom. My father always said I'd grow up to look just like her.
Guess the bastard was right.
The few pictures I had tucked away that I'd managed to steal from home were like staring into my own reflection. It was one giant reminder of what was left behind. 

After slipping into my favorite robe and fuzzy slippers, I made a beeline for my modern small kitchen decorated shades of my favorite color —teal. I opened the freezer and pulled out the pint of rocky road that was currently calling my name.

It had been a long, emotional night. Watching social services walk in and eventually escort Connor out of the hospital was heartbreaking. They'd promised me they would take good care of him, and they really had been gentle and loving with him. They were going to follow through with trying to contact the family friends Connor mentioned. He told them their name and said they were the only other family he had. He wasn't even from here. He was visiting from out of state. I couldn't imagine how scared he must have been.

He had eventually agreed to be my friend. We'd sat quietly in that exam room for probably thirty minutes as I listened to him try to hide his tears.

Then he'd asked, "Do you have a Mommy?"

I'd answered, "No."

I'd told him I had lost my mommy when I was seven also. He'd asked if she died in a car crash, too. I'd just shook my head. He'd looked up at me with those big mesmerizing eyes so full of hurt and he leaped into my arms. He'd cried and cried, and I'd just let him, knowing he needed it. I'd held him for an hour as he'd let every last drop of moisture leak from his body. I knew the feeling. I remembered doing the same thing at the very same age.
The only difference? I hadn't had anyone to hold me.
I was so grateful that I could be that person for him. I just hoped there was someone else willing to take up where I'd left off.