Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (54 page)

“We’re trying to avoid that,” he explained. “Everything is pretty cut and dry. The evidence of what went down was obvious.”

Relief flooded my body and surged through my veins. I took a deep breath, which hurt my chest, and let it out.

“That’s good,” I breathed. “How long am I going to be in here?” I asked. Now that I knew what was going to happen to Aaron, there was no point in talking about him…ever again.

“There’s no way to tell,” my mom said, pulling up a chair beside my bed, so that her and Trace were on each side of me. “It all depends on how well you do. A physical therapist has been coming in every day, to work with moving your legs and arms so that it will be easier for you to walk.”

“I don’t like that guy,” Trace seethed.

“The physical therapist?” I croaked.

Trace nodded. “His smile is creepy.”

I started to laugh, which turned to a cough, and I ended up clutching my ribs in pain. “Ow,” I cried, fighting tears. My chest felt like a bull had stepped on it.

“Don’t laugh, baby,” Trace bit his lip, “it’ll hurt your ribs.”

“You think?” I glared at him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and sat back in the chair.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you, but it really hurts,” I whined, “and I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll get you some water,” he hopped up from the chair and ran for the door. I think he was relieved to be able to do something to help me.

My mom was still sniffling, and I really wished she’d stop, because it made me feel bad. I didn’t like seeing her or
anyone,
this upset over me. I didn’t want anyone to suffer, because I was suffering. That didn’t seem right. The sadness that lingered in her eyes, as they fluttered over my body, upset me. Trace had that same look in his eyes when he looked at me. It was a look that said they wished they could heal me by glance alone.

The door opened and Trace stepped inside with a Styrofoam cup of water with a straw. Since I was so weak, he held the cup for me while I wrapped my lips around the straw, sucking slowly. My throat was still raw from the screaming I did…and for all I knew, I might have had a breathing tube, at one point.

When I nodded that I was finished, Trace placed the cup on the tray over my bed.

“I talked to a nurse. They’ll be in to check on you and take your temperature. They’re concerned about you getting a fever,” he explained, with his arms crossed over his lean chest.

“Why would they be worried about a fever?” I questioned.

Trace swallowed. “Your body has sustained a lot of damage and your system is weak. You’re going to be more susceptible to getting ill and if you get a fever…it could escalate fast,” the worry on his face tore me apart.

“I feel fine,” I assured him, desperate to make the line between his brows disappear. I wiggled my fingers and he placed his hand lightly in mine.

Looking over his gaunt appearance, I reluctantly muttered, “You should go home and eat, Trace. Take a shower and get some sleep. You look exhausted.”

“I’m not leaving,” he shook his head vehemently.

“What about Ace?” I hoped the mention of the puppy would spurn him into action.

“Trent’s staying at the apartment with Ace, so he’s fine,” Trace assured me.

“Still,” I rubbed his fingers, “you should get some rest. I feel guilty.”

He placed a tender kiss on the tip of my nose. “Don’t pull the guilt card, Olivia. I’m not going anywhere.”

I swallowed thickly. How did I get so lucky with Trace?

Continuing, he added, “I’m
not
leaving this hospital until you do.”

“What about work?” I inquired.

“Pete knows what happened, hell, all the guys do. My apartment was a crime scene for a few days until the police got everything they needed. So, he understands why I need to be here,” Trace explained, running his fingers through his hair.

“Okay,” I finally agreed, “but can you at least shower?”

His chuckle rumbled through his chest. “Are you saying I stink?”

“I’m saying I’m pretty sure that smell isn’t me,” I sniffed my arm for emphasis. I smelled like plain hospital soap, slightly citrusy.

“Fine, but
only
because there’s a bathroom with a shower attached to your room,” his eyes twinkled with laughter.

“Call Trent and tell him to bring you clothes,” I added.

“Is there anything else I should ask Trent to bring?” Trace shook his head at me.

“Um…” I smiled. “Think he can sneak in Ace?”

I wanted to see my sweet Lab and give him kisses. I hated that Trace and I had been away from him this long.

“I’m sure if I asked him, he’d try,” Trace chortled. “But they don’t allow dogs in the hospital.”

“They should,” I pouted. “Ace wouldn’t hurt anybody. He would lay right here, beside me,” I pointed to the empty spot in the hospital bed that was big enough for the puppy, “and wouldn’t bother anyone.” I smiled at Trace.

“I know he would, but I don’t want them to kick me out for letting my little brother bring a dog into a sterile hospital,” he chuckled.

“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll just suffer.”

“I’m so happy you’re feeling well enough to argue with me,” he snorted.

“Someone’s awake and talkative,” the same nurse from the other day breezed into my room. Her short auburn hair was straight and her pink scrubs were the only sign of color in the plain white room, aside from the clothes Trace and my mom were wearing.

She looked over my vital signs. “Everything seems to be looking good, sweetie. I’m going to take your temperature,” she promptly stuck a thermometer under my tongue. Ten seconds or so later, it beeped, and she checked it. “Temp is normal, so that’s excellent news. I’m going to check your blood pressure now,” she explained.

My mom scooted out of the way, and let go of my finger, so I could lift my arm for the nurse.

The cuff tightened against my arm and I winced as it dug into my tender skin.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse apologized as she removed the cuff. “Your blood pressure is excellent though. The doctor will be making his rounds in the next thirty minutes,” she smiled at each of us and ducked out of the room. The heavy door clicked closed behind her.

I relaxed against the fluffy pillows, fighting against the exhaustion that was threatening to pull me under. I didn’t know how it was possible for a person that had slept for two days straight, and a week before that, to still be sleepy. But I was.

Trace noticed my eyelids fluttering open and closed. “Olivia, if you need to sleep, go to sleep. Your body needs the rest.”

“No,” I shook my head slightly. “I need to stay awake. I’ve been sleeping so much-”

“Don’t fight what your body needs,” his green eyes were fierce.

My stubborn side kicked in and I looked away from him.

“Olivia,” he groaned warningly.

“I want some more water,” I requested, to sidetrack him.

He sighed and held the Styrofoam cup to my lips. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

I finished the water and fanned my eyes at him. “More please.”

“I’ll be back,” he sighed.

My mom slid her chair closer to the bed and hooked our fingers back together. “I’ll stay until the doctor checks on you and then I really have to go.” Apology was clear in her brown eyes.

“It’s okay, mom,” I assured her. “I know you can’t stay here with me. Heck, I don’t expect Trace to stay with me, but he’s so stubborn.”

“He loves you,” she smiled, “and he wants and
can
be with you. I don’t have that luxury. I have to be at work early in the morning. I work on the lower level of the hospital but I’ll try to stop by if I get the chance. If I don’t, I’ll come by after my shift ends.”

“You don’t need to do that, mom,” my eyes started to close again but I forced them open.

“I’ll find a way to see you tomorrow,” she promised.

“Okay,” I swallowed, because selfishly, I wanted to see her. I was hurt, and I wanted my mom to comfort me, like a small child sick with the flu.

Trace came back with my water and a doctor followed behind him.

“I’m Dr. Richards,” the gray-haired man said, grabbing a clipboard attached to the end of my bed, and looking over it thoroughly. “I’ve been following your progress closely and you’re doing extremely well. You sustained quite a beating,” he looked at me with kind blue eyes. “You’re lucky to be alive, Olivia. Count your blessings.” He skimmed over my chart again and placed it back in its slot at the end of the bed. He looked me over and said, “I want to keep you, for at least four more days, to make sure you’re breathing okay and everything’s fine with your lung and ribs. If that checks out, you’ll be free to go home.”

“That sounds great,” I breathed.

“I want you to try walking, today. I can see that you’re tired, but before you go to sleep, I’d like for your mom or husband to walk the halls with you,” he smiled kindly.

“Sure,” I agreed. “Wait, wha—”

Trace silenced me with a hard glare.

What was going on? Had we gotten married while I was sleeping or something?

“Walking’s fine,” I tried to cover myself.

“I’ll check in on you tonight,” he smiled and strode from the room.

“Husband?” I snapped, eyeing Trace.

He grinned sheepishly. “If I said I was your boyfriend they wouldn’t let me stay around the clock. So, be a good girl, and pretend to be Mrs. Wentworth.” His smile turned cheeky.

“You’re ridiculous,” I shook my head.

My mom stood and moved the chair back to its original spot. “I have to go. I love you, Liv.” She kissed an uninjured spot on my forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you too, mom,” I smiled.

Trace waved goodbye to my mom. “I’m going to go get a nurse to unplug you from all of this junk,” he pointed at the various monitors I was hooked up to, “so you can get some walking done.”

“Okay, I’ll—uh—be here,” I joked.

He shook his head at me and left.

I forced my arm to move, reaching for the cup of water. Being helpless, was getting old really fast.

I managed to get my hand to grip the cup and slowly brought it to my lips. My body was so sore and weak that I knew walking was going to suck the last of my energy right out of my body.

“I hear you want to walk,” the nurse smiled, breezing into the room. The scent of her floral perfume permeated the air around her.

“More like, I’m being forced,” I pouted.

“Walking will be good for you. Just do ten minutes and come back. You don’t have to walk for long. If you’re tired after five minutes, that’s fine too. Don’t overexert yourself, but you do need to move some.”

Great, no one was on my side.

In no time at all, she had me unhooked from most of the machines except for the IV and oxygen tank that had those weird pointy things stuck in my nose, because both of those wheeled along beside me.

“I can take it from here,” Trace assured the nurse as he draped a blanket over my shoulders.

I leaned heavily against him as we strode down the carpeted hall. The oxygen tank’s wheels kept making this annoying shrieking sound.

“Can we go look at the babies?” I asked. “At least, I’ll get to look at something cute.”

Trace feigned that I had hurt his feelings by frowning and placing a hand over his heart. “And I’m not cute to look at?” He questioned.

“I look at you all the time. I’m sick of your face,” I snorted, shuffling along like a ninety-year-old lady.

“That’s a new one,” he chuckled. “Most people never get sick of this face.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. For the first time, I noticed that he hadn’t shaved in quite a while, and almost had a light beard.

“You really need to clean yourself up,” I joked. “You’re looking like a-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” he narrowed his eyes playfully. “I always look fabulous…even when my girlfriend has nearly worried me to death.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot. How silly of me,” I shook my head as a cough raked my body.

Trace stopped and looked me over. “Are you okay? Do we need to go back? Can you breathe?” The questions tumbled from his lips without a breath in-between.

“It’s just a cough, Trace. Calm down,” I proceeded to shuffle forward on the carpeted floor.

“Sorry,” he smiled bashfully. “It’s been a rough ten days,” he bit his lip. “I’m still a little jumpy.”

“I feel…not fine…but not like I’m on my deathbed. Chill, okay?” I pleaded.

“I’ll try to tone down my concern a notch,” he cleared his throat.

“Or three,” I eyed him.

He shook his head at me. “No promises on that one. Let’s get this over so I can get you back in bed where you’re safe.”

“What are you going to do when I go home? Bubble wrap me to the bed?” I scuffed along in the hospital issued socks.

His lips quirked up in a small smile. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered scathingly.

“No, Olivia. I’m concerned. I
never
want to have to watch you almost die, again,” he spoke seriously.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I know you’re worried about me, and here I am, acting like a bitch,” I frowned.

“You’re sore and tired, it’s expected for you to be a little snappy,” he chuckled. “I’d be more worried if you were acting like nothing was wrong.” He read a sign and pointed to our left. “Babies this way.”

We, or
I
, shuffled forward the last few feet and stopped in front of the glass window separating us from the newborn babies.

They were so small and helpless. Most of them were sleeping but one was crying, her small arms forcing their way out of the blanket, swaddling her small form. Another, a boy based on his blue knit hat, eyed Trace and me with wide blue eyes. His small pink lips formed an O as he looked at us. Dark hair peeked out from the edge of his hat. He was so adorable with his plump cheeks.

“I think he likes us,” Trace pointed at the baby.

“What’s not to like,” I poked Trace’s side lightly. “We’re
ah-mazing
.”

“Ah, how could I forget,” he winked at me. Growing serious, he gazed down at me, with dark green eyes. “One day, I’m going to put babies in your tummy, and watch my love grow inside you.”

I laughed. “You’re full of it.”