Splintered Oak (Winsor Series Book 3) (22 page)

BOOK: Splintered Oak (Winsor Series Book 3)
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Each one of his words ripped at me because I knew he spoke the truth. Truth I hadn’t wanted to accept before now. I jerked out of his grip and all but pushed him out of the way. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Do you even see it, Naomi, how wrong for you he is? Your entire personality changes. You become this weak, timid thing that just blindly follows his lead. You are fire and passion and delight, but none of it shows when he’s around. How can you settle for that?”

Jake’s pleading words almost mirrored the same ones Alex has been saying to me for years. Words I ignored. Frustration gripped me as I stared at him, crossing my arms. “Jake, I have four brothers. I don’t need another one. Just leave it alone.”

Jake closed the space between us so quickly, I didn’t have time to move. I expected his grip and words to be harsh, but instead they were soft, caressing. “Don’t think, for even the smallest measure of time, that what I feel for you is brotherly.”

The tension flew between us in waves, charging even the silence.

I turned away and fled to my room, unable to stop the way my body trembled. Great, I thought as I threw my purse on the bed. Now I feel the zing.

 

25. CARETAKER

 

 

JAKE

 

My muscles strained as I pushed the weighted bar up one more time, attempting to sweat out the depression and frustration bearing down on me.

Exercise was the only thing that had successfully calmed me down in twenty-four hours. Visions of Naomi kissing that jerk were seared into my brain despite my attempts to wipe them out.

It was my own fault. I shouldn’t have been watching, but couldn’t help myself.

Naomi had stayed locked in her room since last night and part of me was glad. Looking at her would only bring back the pain.

All this time, I had assured myself it was her. That no one would ever be good enough to hold
her heart, but in reality, it was just me. I wasn’t good enough. The thought gave me the strength to push the bar up one more time before I dropped the metal in its holder.

Sitting up, I wiped off the sweat with my towel and glanced towards the wrestling ring. Matt was stretching and getting ready for his first go around with a guy I hadn’t seen before. Grabbing my water, I slowly walked to the area to watch them. I’d never seen Matt in the ring before.

His opponent looked strong. Stocky and ripped, the guy watched Matt with a predator’s eye. Matt looked relaxed, but focused. Soon, his opponent lunged and within minutes Matt had him pinned to the ground. The guy could have easily beaten him, but Matt never let him get a decent grip.

“You feel like giving it a go today?” Matt asked as he stepped out of the ring and took off his head gear.

“Nah, man, I’m good.”

The other guy came over and shook Matt’s hand, complimenting his skill, then disappeared. Matt took a long drink from his bottle before settling back on the bench.

“Things seem to be going better for you,” he noted casually.

I let out a sarcastic laugh as I thought of Naomi’s blatant rejection. “I don’t know about that.”

Matt kept his eyes steady. “No, you’re better. That look of desperation is almost gone from your eyes. Bruce is tricky like that. He sets things in motion, gets your mind thinking, healing, even when you don’t realize it.”

For the first time since meeting Matt, I was curious. “So is that your story too? Rough childhood and stuff?”

Matt smiled. “That, Jake, is a conversation for another time. Maybe when you’re more ready to hear it. I can see Him working in you, though, drawing you to Him. It won’t be long now.”

I assumed he was talking about Bruce and just let the topic drop. If Matt didn’t want to talk about his past, I wasn’t going to push it.

“So, how did you do it? That guy easily had fifty pounds on you.” I asked, nodding toward the ring.

“I told you, it’s not about size. You have to out-think your
opponent. Watch his moves, his patterns and find his weakness. Then it’s easy to take him down. In the ring and in real life,” he added as he stepped past me.

I watched him disappear into the locker room and contemplated his words. Robbie immedia
tely came to mind. Maybe there was a weakness there. Something we had missed.

As always, thoughts of Robbie led to thoughts of Issy, and the only visual I had was of her battered body. Unable to stomach the guilt, I walked back to the bench press to knock out few more reps.

 

 

David was already seated at the bar when I emerged from my room on Sunday morning. Dressed in his suit and tie, I found it humorous that he got so dressed up when Naomi typically wore jeans to her church. Oh well, I thought, to each his own.

“Have
you talked to Naomi?” He looked toward her door.

“Not since Friday night. I think she’s been laying low,” I reasoned, not wanting to admit that she was probably avoiding me.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just that she hasn’t been out of that room.”

“Maybe she’s just been waiting until we’re gone.”

“I thought that too, but last night I noticed she still had the same flyer on her windshield that had been there since Friday.”

Fear started to move through me as I remembered her headaches. Calmly, as to not give away my concern, I casually replied. “I’ll check on her.”

David stood to leave, glancing at his watch. “Okay, good. Just give me a call if she needs anything.”

I was over at her door the minute he left. “Naomi,” I called as I tapped the wood lightly. No response. I rapped again, harder this time. “Listen, I know you don’t want us coming in your room, but I’m worried. Just let me know you’re okay.”

I paused a minute, but the silence echoed. Fueled by apprehension, I dismissed her rule and pushed open the door. The smell in the air immediately tugged at my senses. I know that smell—stale…thick…sickness. Seeing a mound buried by multiple layers of blankets, I rushed to her side.

“Naomi?” I whispered, moving the blanket away from her face. She was pale and shivering, even in her sleep. I pressed my hand against her forehead and almost cursed at the heat. She was burning up with fever and I could tell by the touch that it had spiked to a dangerous level.

Instinct taking over, I rushed to her bathroom to grab some washcloths. Soaking them with cold water, I returned to her side, and placed one on her neck and one on her forehead.

“No…too cold,” she murmured, her teeth chattering.

“Sweetheart, just hold on to me. We’re going to take a little drive, okay?”

She was still delirious, but somehow I managed to get her arms to hold on to my neck as I lifted her frail body off the bed.

“Where are you taking me?” she whispered as I grabbed me keys.

The cloths I had put on her head were already warm, so I threw them on the couch as I carried her to the door. “You need to go to the hospital. You’re burning up, and I don’t think you want me giving you a cold bath which is my only other option.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, that would be awkward later.”

Even with her hair matted against her face and sweat dried on her cheeks, Naomi could still pierce my heart with that smile. Adjusting her so I could open the door, I moved quickly to the parking lot and out to my car. I stood her up as I opened the passenger door, but held on tight. She was too weak to stand despite her attempts to try. Slowly and carefully, I got her settled in the seat and buckled up, laying her back so she could rest on the way.

Realizing that she would need identification, I ran back in the condo and grabbed her wallet, locked the door and bolted back to the car. She was already asleep again when I slid beside her so I gently shut my door and turned on the ignition.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at me affectionately, reaching up to touch my cheek. “You have such a big heart. I guess I see why you guard it so well.” The words trailed off as her eyes closed again. Her breath moved in and out in
a slow, methodical stream, while mine felt labored against the ache in my chest. My cheek burned where she had so gently touched me and the hope I had all but trashed, seemed to reappear with vigor. Naomi shivered, reminding me of my purpose, and I turned my attention back to getting her to the hospital as quickly as possible.

She had gotten hotter in the ten minutes it took me to pull up to the emergency room and get her checked in. There were several others in the waiting room – a man clutching his stomach, a baby wailing, a teenage girl looking around fearfully – but thankfully they took Naomi immediately back to one of the examination rooms.

I backed away so the nurse could do her job, but couldn’t help but bite my fingernails when I saw the thermometer read 103.4
o
F and her blood pressure came in way below a normal range.

“How long has she been running a fever?” the nurse asked, her words sharp as she recorded all the numbers.

I felt like a kid again, sucked back in time to the first night I took my mother to the emergency room. I was fourteen, too young to drive, but I somehow managed to get her there. She had collapsed and started seizing right in the middle of our kitchen floor. I was afraid back then, crying as I watched her flop around. But I was the man of the house, so I swallowed my tears, and did what I needed to save her.

“Sir?” the nurse asked again, her voice getting sharper.

My mind returned to the present as I shook off that scared little boy. “Sorry. Um, I think maybe twenty-four hours or so. She’s also been complaining of headaches for several days now.”

The nurse wrote down everything I told her and then disappeared out of the room. She was back before I even had a chance to move, expertly hooking up an IV bag. I watched as Naomi twitched just a little when they struck her with the needle, but relaxed again soon after.

“The doctor will be in here shortly.” She set the timer on the machine and left again in a hurry.

Naomi had never seemed so fragile as she did in that moment, and something about seeing her lying there ripped open a tidal wave of emotion. The tears came in sheets, leaving me embarrassed and vulnerable as I turned away from her. Tears for the woman I buried one year ago, tears for the little boy who lost his childhood, tears for Issy and my betrayal, and finally tea
rs for the woman who had been my strength. Who now needed me to be hers.

Pulling myself together, I wiped away the evidence of my breakdown and slid a chair beside Naomi’s bed.

“Hey beautiful. This is no way to win an argument,” I teased, brushing aside her hair so it wouldn’t cover her face.

The IV ticked away, matching the rhythm of the wall clock. Words caught in my throat. There was so much I wanted to tell her, so much I hadn’t realize
d I even felt until that moment. But it didn’t feel right. Not when she was so weak.

The door behind me opened and I stood to greet the young resident assigned to Naomi’s case. He checked her chart and then her blood pressure, which had gone up a little, thankfully. Taking out his medical supplies, he checked her ears and up her nose. She was too lethargic to open her mouth, but he managed to get in a peek in there as well. He wrote more notes and then clicked his pen, looking at me.

“Well, I think your friend is lucky you got her here so fast. If her temperature had risen much higher, her recovery might not have been so easy.”

I stood, preparing myself for the worst. “What’s wrong with her?”

“The fever is likely from a sinus infection that has moved to both of her ears. Her weakness is probably due to her level of dehydration. Nothing a few bags of fluids and some antibiotics can’t fix. You’ll probably be able to take her home in a couple of hours.”

R
elief flooded me as I dropped my head in response. Lifting it back up, I smiled at the young doctor, resisting every urge to hug him. “Thank you.”

He just shrugged but I saw his mouth twitch up a little. “No problem. We gave her something for the pain, so she’ll probably sleep for a while. Jackie will be in here to give her another bag when this one runs out.” Another click of his pen and he was gone, leaving the room brighter than it had been since we arrived.

I sat back down and picked up Naomi’s limp hand, kissing her fingers with joy. “Looks like you are going to be just fine, except I am going to be a watchdog from now on. This stunt shows that you are totally incapable of taking care of yourself,” I scolded as she slept.

The time ticked by, and her vitals and color improved
with each minute that passed. Suddenly, I felt the urge to write. I had been unable to write even a sentence since Bruce assigned me the grief letter, but now my mind was full of all the words I wanted to say to my mother. Words I never could because she was always too sick to hear them.

I reached in the nightstand for a
pen and paper, and discovered a small Bible in the drawer as well. I pulled out the worn book and turned the pages until I saw Psalms come across the top.

People
were always quoting Psalms, right? It seemed like a good place to start.

“I’m only doing this because it’s Sunday and I don’t want you to get in trouble with the man upstairs, okay? I know how you feel about Him.”

I flipped a few pages until I read something that struck me and then read it aloud so Naomi could hear.

“The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.”

It was subtle, but Naomi’s lips curled into a little smile. Wanting her happiness to continue, I found another chapter and kept reading to her, convincing myself the entire time that I didn’t believe a word I was reading.

 

 

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