Текст книги "Torn"

Автор книги: Kim Karr

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

We also talk about the tour. He doesn’t want that life and I respect him for knowing when too much is just too much. He tells me Xander, Nix, and even Garrett aren’t talking to him right now. He makes a joke that he’s glad his mother is out of town or he’s sure she would have organized a sit-down. We both laugh at the thought, but we’re also laughing because the seriousness of this rift among the band is more than we can bear.

Finally, we talk about what happened the last two nights, and how that couldn’t happen again. We both agreed. I regretted that I didn’t go home and stayed the night here alone the same way he had the night he stormed out. He knew why I went to a hotel, but I needed to know why he didn’t come home. He explained that he went to Smitten’s and was pretty drunk by the time Xander, Nix, and Garrett found him there. They all went back to Garrett’s house and spent the night arguing. Xander and Nix walked out and then Garrett and him drank until they both passed out. When he woke up Garrett took him back to get his car and then he came home, but by that time I was gone. All that was left was my note. He told me after he read my note he, too, found the strength to look past the chaos. So much had happened in such a short period of time and we just weren’t prepared for it. Neither one of us ever doubted the true strength of our relationship, but we doubted each other’s investment in it and that was the scariest part.

After baring our souls to each other we lie together, embracing as if we are one. We know our love is strong; we have withstood what we hope to be one of the biggest issues we will ever have to face—Ben’s return. I know we are much stronger because of it.

Once the hard conversations are over we enjoy the peacefulness of just being alone together. I’m lying on my side, mindlessly twirling one of my diamond stud earrings and he’s watching me intently.

“Did I ever tell you my parents had a thing for birthdays?”

He smirks. “Most parents do, Dahlia.”

“No, I mean really. They had an obsession. They would start asking me what I wanted for my birthday months ahead of time. For my twelfth birthday I told them I wanted a carousel. Now I meant a musical one, but they rented out the merry-go-round at Griffith Park for an entire Saturday afternoon. It was amazing.”

With a wicked grin he slides his fingers down my bare stomach. “I could rent it out for your next birthday and we could have some fun if you’re still into merry-go-rounds, that is?”

“Hey.” I feign offense. “What can I say?—I was twelve and liked riding the ponies!”

He laughs so hard he’s almost crying. “You walked right into that one.”

Laughing along with him I say, “Yeah, I did.”

Holding his stomach, he takes a deep breath and manages, “Okay, tell me about another outrageous birthday present.”

“See these?” I say, pointing to my earrings. “Well, for my thirteenth birthday I told my parents I wanted something that sparkled like Ariel’s mermaid tale. And these are what I got.”

He kisses my forehead. “They’re beautiful. And Dahlia, I can understand why your parents wanted to always make you happy. They loved you.”

Then, as if deep in thought, he starts caressing my back and humming the “Happy Birthday” song. I suddenly have a strong desire to hear him play. It’s been so long since we’ve shared that intimacy and I’m craving it. “River, can I ask you to do something?”

He leans over and kisses me then he whispers in my ear, “Sure. Are you ready for dessert?”

I almost forgot what I wanted to ask him when his lips meet mine again, but I quickly remember. “Well, of course, but first will you play ‘Never in Pieces’ for me?”

He props up his elbows. “Now?” he says as he leans back down and resumes kissing me, this time trailing feather-soft kisses up my neck.

“Yes, please,” I beg.

He sits up and gets off the bed. “God, why can’t I ever say no to you?”

“Because you love me so much?” I smile at him.

“Yes I do, my girl, that I do,” he says while pulling up his boxers. And I notice what I didn’t notice before, that he’s wearing his Pac-Man boxers.

My breath quickens just watching him. I suck in a breath and happy tears form in my eyes. “You wore my favorite boxers.”

He grins his familiar heart-stopping grin and winks at me as he tugs on the waistband and nods. Then he picks up his guitar and sits on the edge of the bed. The muscles in his back flex in a way that makes me want to lick a line around each one. He twists sideways and his abs and pecs ripple with each movement. I bite down on my lower lip in anticipation as he sets himself up. His strong arm cradles the guitar as he rests it on his thigh. He looks over at me and pats his free hand on the bed, motioning for me to sit next to him. Closing the distance between us, I study him further as he begins to play. His nimble fingers pick the fret board and I am mesmerized as he moves with an effortless ease. Watching him I can almost feel his fingers touching me with the same gentle ease. My eyes travel from his fingers up his arm. I study the muscles in his forearm, how his leg bobs up and down as his shoulders rock back and forth.

I look at his face—even with his eyes closed he’s beautiful. Strong jaw, sculpted nose, smooth skin—as I soak in the sight of him he’s fully entranced in the music he’s creating. And then he opens his eyes and smiles and I melt. His green eyes gleam and his dimples come to life. He’s the epitome of sexiness and he’s mine. He glances over at me as he sings the chorus and my smile couldn’t be any bigger. And just as his body sways to the beat of the chorus so does mine.

There are no pieces, I promise you

Glass can shatter and bones may break

But I will always call, I will always find you

Our love is strong

Let me ease your mind, let me in, I will always love you

I will always love you

We’ll never be in pieces

River is my future. I love him, I trust him, I need him. I lay my head on his shoulder and peek up at him. I’m completely captivated by his adorable expression while he’s so engrossed in the music. When he finishes playing he sets the guitar down.

“I love that song.”

Happily he says, “I love you.” He laces his fingers in mine. “Are you tired?”

I look at the clock; it’s only noon, but feels like midnight. I yawn a little and he laughs. “I think that would be a yes,” he says as he pulls me down to the bed.

“River, can we stay here tonight?” I just want to put my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat . . . to shut out the rest of the world for just a little while longer.

He kisses my head. “Yeah, I was planning on it,” he says as he yawns and stretches. I think he’s asleep before I even close my eyes.

* * *

Hours pass while we both sleep soundly. When I wake, I can see the sun is just about to set. I turn toward the window trying not to wake him. The view that I ignored when I first arrived is magnificent. The beach is so beautiful and the mountains are majestic. This sunset would make a beautiful photo.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispers in my ear.

I turn toward him and give him a soft kiss. “I thought you were still sleeping.”

“No, I was just laying here thinking.”

“What about?”

His body covers mine and he props himself up on his hands, one on either side of my face. “Our life together. What it will be like.”

“What do you see for us?”

He collapses his full weight on me. “Besides this,” he says, kissing me, tugging on my lower lip before rolling to his side and draping his arm around me. Pulling me close, he grins. “I see us together, married. Having kids. Doing fun family things that our kids will never forget.”

I feel myself tremble as I imagine our perfect life—our children’s lives being complete unlike either of ours were as children. “How many kids do you want?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “As many or as few as you want.”

Smiling so hard, my face hurts; I run my fingers along his cheek. “Three, I think three. Yours is the perfect-sized family.”

Kissing my fingers he says, “Yeah, it is. Three is a good number.”

His eyes smile with that light I love and I ask, “What?”

He rubs his hand over my stomach. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you’re going to look pregnant.”

Tears of joy escape my eyes before I kiss him. Kiss him with love, with adoration, and a happiness that makes my stomach flutter.

He nestles his head on my shoulder and we lay quiet for a while, listening to the rain and just enjoying being together.

After a while River looks up at me. “I love you,” he whispers and his warm breath sends a shiver down my spine.

“Me, too.”

“You love yourself?”

“No silly, I love you.”

I feel his mouth against my neck. “Can we promise to always use words to tell each other how we feel?”

“Of course,” I say because I can promise him that. I want to spend my life with him. I love him more than words can ever express.

Reaching his hand down between my legs, he smirks and coyly says, “I’ll take ‘of course’ as a green light in any conversation we have from now on.”

Giggling because it wasn’t long ago that he said “of course” couldn’t be assumed in any conversation and now he’s laughing about it, I hop off the bed and go find my jeans. Reaching into my pocket I pull the guitar pick out and close it in my hand. Back in bed next to him, he just looks at me skeptically. Opening my palm I show him the pick that reads, “I love you.”

Eyeing the pick he says, “I knew which one was missing immediately and I want that back, you know.” Then he gently lifts my hand and kisses it and the pick together. “I love you, too.”

God, I love everything about him and I don’t want to wait another day to be his wife and have his babies. I prop my elbow on the pillow and rest my chin on my hand. Pressing into him so that our bodies are melded together I ask, “River Wilde, will you marry me?”

“You can’t ask me that, I’ve already asked you that question.” His hand moves to my backside and pushes me further into him—solidifying us as a single unit.

“No, I mean marry me tomorrow. We can go home, grab a bag, and head to Vegas.”

His hand slides down my thigh. “I don’t know. My proposal was much more romantic. I’m the kind of guy who likes to be wined and dined, and, besides, I’m not sure we can hop a flight to Vegas naked.”

Hiding my smile I tell him, “Alright Loverboy, no making fun of my proposal. It was impromptu.”

He grabs my left hand, lifts it to his mouth, and kisses my ring. “I would love to marry you, Dahlia London. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”

I smile widely and lean in to kiss him.

He pulls away, and draws an x over his heart. “And I promise you’ll never regret marrying me.”

His words sear me, branding me to the core. I know I will never regret one single second with him and suddenly I know what I have to do. I quickly stand and he sits up, staring at me in confusion. I walk over to the room-service tray, grab a butter knife, and return to the bed. Sitting in front of him, I hand him the knife and offer my wrist. He looks at me as if questioning what I’m asking him to do.

I nod my head. “I don’t have to wear a no-regrets bracelet because I know I will never regret a single moment of my life with you.”

He swallows and then loosens two of the screws on my bracelet. He stares intently at me as he removes the last thing connecting me to Ben. I’m now completely his, not that I haven’t been since the day we met, but somehow this cements it.

He touches his forehead to mine and whispers, “Thank you.”

I lean back and clutch his face in my hands. My eyes meet his and there are no words to describe the look on his face right now.

He pushes aside a piece of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. Slowly kissing his way down my neck he tells me, “I want you forever.”

I whisper back, “God, I love you so much.”

His lips lift into a smirk. “Good, because now that we’ve both professed our undying love for each other, can I touch you everywhere?”

Chapter 25

All or Nothing

“Amazing Grace” starts ringing from the floor where River had tossed our phones. They rang on and off all day, but neither one of us paid attention to them. We needed time together, alone, to just shut out the world.

Looking sleepy-eyed at the clock, alarm overcomes me. It’s only 4:23 a.m., why would Grace be calling so early?

Jumping out of bed, I look for the illuminated phone on the carpet; the phone stops ringing before I get to it, but starts again immediately. I hit the ANSWER button.

“Hello?”

“Dahl, I’m sorry to call you like this,” he says and I tense at his wistful tone, anger surging through me. How dare he use Grace’s phone to call me.

“Ben, I don’t want to talk to you. Don’t ever call me again.” I seethe and move to hit the END button.

“It’s Grace,” he manages before I actually hang up.

My pulse races as I stagger to the bed.

River sits up. “Give me the phone. I’ll take care of it.”

I shake my head no and hold up one finger.

“Ben, what about her?”

Ben is quiet for the longest time.

River’s mouth tightens and he tries to grab the phone from me, but I turn away.

“Ben, tell me what’s wrong.”

River reaches to turn the light on and wraps a blanket around me.

“Dahl, she’s in the hospital.”

My eyes fill with tears. “Hospital? What happened?”

“It’s bad, Dahl. I’d rather tell you when you get here.”

Seeing my pain, River senses the urgency. He stands up and pulls his boxers and jeans on.

“No, tell me now.”

“We rushed her to the ER last night. She had a massive stroke.”

“A stroke? What does ‘massive’ mean?” I am trembling as I reel from the news and try to understand what it means.

River is on the hotel phone calling the valet.

Ben is crying. “She’s unresponsive. Her brain is hemorrhaging. I think you should come now.”

“She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?”

“Just come now. We’re at Mission,” he says and then hangs up.

I can feel my face go slack, my mouth dropping open slightly, and all I can do is stare wide-eyed at River. He’s looking over at me with concern. I open my mouth to speak, to reassure him, but snap it shut and gulp. Finally I manage, in a raspy, barely audible tone, “We have to get to the hospital in Laguna as soon as possible. It’s Grace.”

He squeezes me against his chest and I allow myself a minute to lean into him. His fingers find my chin and lift it up. “I’ll be with you every minute. Okay?”

I nod. I blink. I’ve been broken and glued back together so many times already—not again. Please not again. I rest my face against his chest and cry out, “Please let Grace be alright.”

* * *

Sirens wailing, lights cycling red, an ambulance pulls into the entrance where the bright blue letters read “Emergency Room.” River follows the signs to visitor parking and we enter the dark underground garage. I stare silently ahead as he squeezes my hand and we head into the hospital; I’m suddenly petrified of what’s going to happen. The sliding doors open and shut as we enter. Stopping at the information desk, River gives Grace’s name. After a few clicks of her keyboard, the woman directs us to an area called Comfort Care and I’m not sure whether that is good or bad. I flinch as we walk through the hall and hear a snapping noise. Someone is raising a gurney and for some reason the noise is more than I can take right now.

Every step brings me closer to Grace. I look around as we walk and think how hospitals are strange places. People are always whispering everywhere. Why? Are they afraid that speaking out loud makes everything more real? I look into each room as we pass them; families sit with their loved ones, some old, some young, some looking well, and some looking very sick.

We cautiously approach the ICU and Serena is talking to one of the doctors who has a chart in his hand. He looks down at the papers and she nods her head, her face expressionless and unreadable.

River stops at the waiting area, but I keep walking. He squeezes my hand. I know he’s here for me, but I have to go see Grace. I’m scared of what I will find but I know I have to do this. I turn to look at him and he nods.

I travel what seems like miles and when the doctor goes in the room, Serena turns and sees me. “Dahlia,” she cries, her eyes filling with tears. I look into the room and see Ben by the side of the bed and start to walk in. Serena grabs my arm and Ben’s position is preventing me from getting a clear view.

“Serena, I want to see her. How is she?”

I look at her face, and I know it’s bad. “Let’s go over here and talk,” she manages, taking deep breaths in between her words. She walks us back to where River is standing and motions us both to sit down. She sits next to me and grabs my hand. River holds the other.

Taking another deep breath she says, “They just did a CT scan and the swelling has moved to the other side of the brain.”

I blurt out, “It will go down, right?”

She squeezes my hand even tighter, “No, Dahlia. There’s nothing they can do. It’s just a matter of time before her heart or lungs give out.”

I shake my head. “But we’re in a hospital. Of course there is something they can do.”

“They’re giving her morphine to ease any suffering and she’s on oxygen to help with her breathing, but, Dahlia, she has no brain activity. She’s already gone.”

“No, Serena. I don’t believe it.” I can’t accept what she’s telling me, but I pull her to me and hug her as tight as I can. My heart shatters, but I struggle to pull myself together. Grace is Serena’s mother and I know what it is like to lose your mother. I blink back my tears, trying to be strong for her.

“I want to see her.”

She nods her head and stands. I look over to River and walk with Serena to see Grace.

As we walk back down the hall, I say a silent prayer. I haven’t prayed to God since he took my parents from me, but I pray now. I pray for him to turn Grace’s condition around and to give me the strength to make it through whatever happens.

My stomach is in knots as I take slow, cautious steps toward the bed. Red lights blink from various devices and a white sheet covers most of her small body. The closer I get I can see that it’s Grace lying there, but it doesn’t really look like her. She’s too pale, her hair unkempt, but she looks asleep, like I might be able to wake her if I try. So I take her lifeless hand and squeeze it, mentally willing her to squeeze back, to wake up. But her hand is cold and unresponsive against my feverish skin. I clutch her hand harder, trying to warm it, and bend forward to place my forehead against hers, kissing her. “I love you, Grace,” I whisper.

Through the metal bedrail I see so many wires, tubes, and cords leading from one machine to another and then to her. I’m surprised how noisy they all are for such a quiet place. Every whoosh pumps oxygen through a clear tube, each bleep indicates the rate at which her heart is beating, and the sound of air compressing monitors her blood pressure. An alarm goes off and I jump. When Grace’s body twitches slightly and she gasps for air, I look at Ben in horror and scream, “Shouldn’t someone be in here to monitor her?”

He looks at me somberly, withdrawn even as he answers, “It’s okay, that’s just a warning that her oxygen saturation level is low.”

Quickly, a nurse comes in and turns the dial near the tank. She waits a few minutes to take Grace’s pulse, and then she leaves. I hear whispering behind me and see Serena is talking to River outside the door.

When my eyes return to Grace, it strikes me anew how ashen and lifeless her complexion looks. How can this be happening to Grace? This woman has been my mother since the day mine died. She shared all my ups and downs and guided me through so much. My throat tightens and I suddenly feel dizzy. I can’t stay in here. I run out of the room and go to River.

He sits me down and I pull my knees up to my chest. He crouches in front of me and strokes my cheek with his fingers, but doesn’t say a word. When he tips my chin so that I’m looking into his eyes he whispers, “You have to do this. You have to stay with her baby. She needs you.”

I unfold my arms and cup his cheeks, and simply nod. He pauses as if to gather his own strength before standing and pulling me up. His arms circle around me. “I’m so sorry.”

I kiss him softly on the lips, my heart filled with so much love for him and so much sadness for Grace that I’m sure it’s going to burst. I don’t think I have room left for any other emotions.

I tell myself he’s right. I am strong. I can be there for Grace, Serena, and even Ben. One more deep breath and then I make myself walk back into the room. I look at Serena, who seems paralyzed with fear. I look at Ben and his eyes are closed, but when he opens them they are ravaged with pain.

Moving next to Serena, I grab her hand and can feel how her body trembles.

Her voice breaks. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not okay,” I say in complete honesty.

She turns to me. “I know, neither am I.”

Hugging her I whisper, “I’m so sorry for not telling you about Trent.”

She shakes her head, “No, I’m sorry. I should never have yelled at you that way. Ben explained everything.”

My gaze moves to him, noticing his sad blue eyes, and I quickly look back to Serena. “Oh God, where is Trent? Is he alone?”

“We took him to the recovery center yesterday afternoon. She came with us,” he says, his voice cracking and his eyes focused on his mother. “We went back to Laguna and brought her home. I walked her in and she had trouble getting up the stairs. She said she felt dizzy and then all of a sudden she complained of a severe headache. She hadn’t been feeling well all day so I had her lie down. When I couldn’t wake her up, we called nine-one-one and got her here as soon as we could. But it was too late.”

Tears are streaming down his face as he tells me. I can’t see him like this. I hate him, but my heart aches for him. For a while Serena, Ben, and I sit in silence by Grace’s bed, then I step out into the corridor. River is in the waiting area, looking out the huge window. It’s still raining and I have no idea how long we’ve been in the room. Walking over to him, I lean on him and he wraps his arm around my shoulder, kissing my head.

“You need anything?”

“No, just you.”

I sit with him and neither of us talks at first.

He shifts slightly and whispers in my ear. “You know you’re just like her—amazing.”

Suddenly, I realize why people whisper in hospitals. It’s not because they don’t want to face what’s before them, it’s to ease the mind of those around them, to lessen the pain. Facing him, I swipe the hair from his forehead and stare into his green eyes. I can feel a single tear drip down my cheek and he wipes it away. Brushing my lips softly to his I say, “Thank you,” and hug him as tightly as I possibly can.

Glancing up, I see Ben behind us just staring. He gives me an odd look and then heads back to the room. After a while, I get up and take River’s hand. “Come on, come with me.”

“I don’t think I should, but if you need me I’m right here.”

I smile at him and squeeze his hand. “I know.”

When I walk back into the room, Serena wipes her tears away and stands. “I’m going to grab some coffee. Do you want some?”

Ben and I both decline.

When it’s just him and me, the silence between us is deafening. He looks up from his chair beside Grace and says, “It’s my fault, you know.”

Looking at him, I feel anger and then a wave of sympathy. I don’t say anything, but I slide my chair around the bed to sit next to him. I take hold of Grace’s hand, and it’s so cold. I just sit there, not sure if my touch offers her any comfort, but it feels like the right thing to do. Ben stays silent for the longest time and the tension between us seems to say it all.

“Dahl, did you hear me?” he asks with sorrow in his voice.

I try to ease his pain. “It’s not your fault, Ben. Strokes aren’t caused by other people.”

Placing his hand on Grace’s arm, he looks over at me. “Maybe not, but I can’t help but think she wouldn’t be here if I never came back. Everything’s a mess. I’m just so sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. I’ve always loved you, even though my actions didn’t always show it.”

I can’t believe he’s using this time and place to atone for his mistakes. He hesitates only for a moment before edging closer to me. He runs his finger over my wrist, where his bracelet had adorned my arm until yesterday. I start to move away but something feels wrong. His eyes . . . they’re filled with remorse, grief, and maybe even loneliness. That wave of sympathy I felt earlier now shatters me. My eyes close in a subconscious effort to block out the bad memories. He clutches my hand tight to his face, and, for a few heartbeats, I leave it that way until a high-pitched sound fogs my senses, and then quickly brings reality crashing down.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor changes to one long tone. It’s a constant high-pitched whine, no breaks in between. Just a long, flat, piercing sound that penetrates my ears. Doctors and nurses flood the room. Time seems to slow while at the same time the room comes alive. Backing away, I watch the clock tick as they desperately try to bring her back, but she’s already gone. I know she is. The nurses rotate through compressions and give nervous glances to each other as the seconds pass. The doctor grabs the paddles from the cart. “Clear,” he yells and I twitch at the same time Grace’s body does.

And then, just like that, all efforts stop as they let her go. But this can’t be real. I’m here, she’s here, but things will never be the same. I can’t stop staring at her. Her lips are parted as if she’s in midsentence and I wait for her to say, “Dahlia honey, where’s your umbrella?” But she doesn’t.

Serena stands in the doorway, looking blankly at the bed. Ben rushes to his mother’s side, and I hear him screaming, “No, Mom. No.” Serena goes over to him and as I watch the two of them, I start to back away from the deafening sound. It’s only purpose is to alert us to what we already know—Grace is gone.

Serena pulls Ben to her and everything in the room seems to cloud over. Sadness, anger, disbelief, guilt—they’re all fighting for their place inside me and I just want out of this skin. All of the sounds, voices, movements, and bodies around me form a big blur and I feel like I’m suffocating. A sob rises in my throat and I quickly turn to escape the room. I run down the long corridor and it suddenly seems stark white. The automatic doors open, allowing me to flee out into the safety of the rain. Finally, I can breathe. The rain falls down harder and harder as I let the tears flow at the same pace, the tears I’ve been holding in so I could be the stronger one.

I cry for time that won’t stand still, for losses that should never have happened, for friendships broken, for mistakes made, for my pain, and most of all I cry for Grace. Especially for Grace.

I try to understand why death takes a person from you, but not the relationship. It leaves you to carry on with only half of what you need to make things whole.

Lifting my arms out to the side, I raise my head up toward the heavens and scream, “It’s not fair. Do you hear me? It’s just not fair.” My scream turns into a whimper before I finish and my anger transforms into sorrow as the reality hits me that no matter how mad I am or how sad I am, she’s really gone.

Water drips from my hair, absorbs into my clothes, and soaks me to the bone. Grief besieges me as I feel another piece of my soul chipped away and I wonder how much more could possibly be left. How much can one person take until there is nothing left—to take or to give?

“Dahl,” Ben yells and my name sounds desperate on his lips.

“Dahlia,” River calls and this time my name sounds calm, tranquil.

I turn and see him standing in the doorway to the hospital entrance.

“River!” I cover my mouth and shake my head.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out to me and I run to him, because I don’t want to run any other way. I jump into his arms and hold him and I know that what’s left of my soul is for him.