Demanded by Him (Wanted Series #3) (4 page)

“I really don’t think she could have done anything differently,”
Ashley said. “She was very diligent about it.”

“I know,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “She’s a good kid.”

“And tough,” Ashley added, turning an empty paper cup in her
hands. “Especially for her size.”

I looked at her. “Why do you say that?”

She shrugged. “She was the only girl in my group who wasn’t
afraid of the snakes when-”

“What snakes?”

“Oh, we have a wildlife guy come in with some animals. It’s all
very safe.”

“And she wasn’t afraid?”

Ashley shook her head. “Not one bit. Though when she put it
around her neck and started impersonating Britney Spears, I had to cut her
off.”

I felt a flush of warmth in my cheeks. I had a hunch that I
shouldn’t have let her watch those videos, but if she wanted to pretend she was
a popstar, who was I to stop her? It’s not like she’d ever tried to dress
skimpy. She just liked the music. I even gave her an old headset with a thin
microphone jutting off the ear piece so she could pretend she was performing
for a packed stadium.

Maybe I was wrong to let her do that. I figured if it got her
dancing in front of the TV instead of sitting on her butt like a bump on a log it
was a good thing. But maybe I’d done her a disservice. Maybe she was too bold
for her own good. Maybe I’d been a shitty dad and if she came through this okay,
I’d have to make a change.

God if she would just pull through.

At least I hadn’t taught her to be afraid of anything. Like
popstars. Or snakes apparently. She must have loved that! What a little badass!

Maybe I was right to let her go to camp after all.

And this was just an unfortunate accident.

It had nothing to do with what kind of father I was. She
could’ve gone low at home with me or with a babysitter or during the school
year. I couldn’t blame myself for this.

Hell, I couldn’t do much of anything at all.

In fact, I’d never felt so useless and ineffective. My daughter
was fifty feet away hooked up to oxygen, fluids, a piss bag, and who knows what
else, and I was sitting here talking to Ashley.

And as lovely as it was that she was still talking, graciously
letting me participate with nods and facial expressions that may not even have
been relevant to whatever the heck she was saying, I wished I was listening to
the sound of Sophie’s breathing. Or her heartbeat.

Was someone checking her heartbeat?

I sighed.

Of course, as I couldn’t listen to Sophie, I was eager for
Addison to return.

Ashley was lovely and everything, and I’m sure if I was seventeen
again, we would’ve had a lot to talk about. Unfortunately, I was a little too
distracted by the fact that my daughter might be seizuring in the next room to
ask her about her summer job, her college plans, and what she loved most about
being a camp counselor.

Which was weird cause I could usually have a conversation with
anyone- especially women- and keep them happy and chatting for ages, but I just
didn’t have the capacity to engage her at the moment.

Frankly, I wished I’d never let go of Addison’s hand.

I should’ve sent Ashley for the coffees.

Then I would be sitting here quietly with Addison whose presence
made staying strong feel important. Then again, I couldn’t ask her to stay.
Just because Austin embarrassed me by acting like I couldn’t be left alone
didn’t mean she was obligated to sit here with me and… wasn’t she supposed to
be relaxing this week anyway?

No, I definitely couldn’t ask her to stay. That would be
ridiculous.

We’d been on two very basic- albeit incredibly gratifying-
dates. If the circumstances hadn’t been exceptional, I never even would’ve told
her I had a daughter. Not because I didn’t cherish Sophie, but because of how
much I did.

I wasn’t going to introduce her to just anyone. Sure, I
sometimes wondered what it would be like if I found someone special, someone
that would be good for both of us, but most of the women I met were a long way
off mommy material- or even girlfriend material.

But this wasn’t real.

This was a disaster in which my daughter’s life was at stake and-
seeing as how Addison already knew my real name and happened to be with me when
I got the call- I didn’t see the harm in her being here. As my friend. At least
as far as Sophie was concerned, though she had bigger problems to worry about
at the minute than who the redhead with dad was.

Praying crossed my mind again, though it would be more accurate
to call what I was doing deliberately directed wishing. I was mostly making
promises I’d never be able to keep like, if she’s okay I’ll never let her eat
fast food again and I’ll make sure she always does her homework before she
plays piano and I’ll never leave her side for as long as I live.

But if there was a God, surely he knew they were all complete
lies that I could never possibly deliver on. Not to mention the fact that they
were irrelevant to the current crisis.

But maybe he could sense my feeling behind those promises.

Or maybe praying was no more useful than worrying, but at least
it gave me something to do to keep me from imagining the worse.

Besides, I sure as hell wasn’t going to have Sophie not walk out
of the hospital just cause I was too stubborn to pray.

So I did. Just in case.

It was my own composition- a hybrid of the few prayers I’d learned
by heart as a kid- but hopefully it was the thought that counted.

“So are you a single dad?” Ashley asked.

“I am, yeah,” I said, picking up by her tone of voice that she
was expecting me to participate for a second.

“Wow.”

I forced a smile, trying to give her the benefit of the doubt
that she was just one of those young women that feared the weight of a moment’s
silence.

“That must be hard,” she said.

I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. “Usually it’s
okay,” I said, wringing my hands together. “But it’s times like these when I
feel like a fool for thinking I was ever up to the job.”

When the elevator doors closed, I put my hands on the wall and
looked down at the floor, trying to steady my breath.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He’s a dad. With a kid, a kid in a coma with blond hair and a
tangle of friendship bracelets around her tiny wrist.

My throat closed up as I thought of how helpless she looked
surrounded by all those serious faced people in scrubs.

Poor Wyatt. It was hard for me to see Sophie like that. He must’ve
been beside himself.

The elevator door opened, and I lifted my head. When I saw the
nurse and the man in the wheel chair, I scooted into the back corner to make
room for them. The old man’s face looked like worn leather and the skin on his
neck looked like bunched curtains.

I smiled at him.

“Sarah?” he said, looking at me. “Is that you?”

The nurse behind his chair shook her head. “Don’t mind him.”

“It’s been so long since you came to visit me.” His voice
sounded scratchy in his throat.

“Dementia,” the nurse said. “Sarah’s his daughter who never
comes.”

“How long are you staying?” he asked me.

The nurse put her hand on his shoulder and lowered her head to
say something-

“It’s okay,” I said, crouching down. I put my hand over the
man’s frail knee. “I can’t stay. I just wanted to say hello and see that you
were okay.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting my arm with his free hand. “But
you should’ve brought my grandchildren.”

I swallowed.

“Next time,” he said.

I nodded. “I will if I can.”

His kind eyes seemed to sparkle from being acknowledged.

“That was nice of you,” the nurse said as the elevator dinged.
“He’s lonely most of the time.”

I watched her wheel the patient off the elevator, wondering if I
did the right thing. I mean, it was scary not knowing what was going on with
him or through his head. But I swear I could see in his eyes that he was just
desperate to recognize something for what it was. The doors closed again, and
the elevator kept going up.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe that was a weird thing
to do. Whatever. If it helped him not feel lonely for a second that was okay,
right?

The nurse didn’t seem to disapprove anyway. Oh well. It was too
late now.

I stepped off on the fourth floor, my eyes scanning the walls
and ceiling for a sign pointing towards the cafeteria. I found it on the wall
to my right and followed the arrows.

As I walked across the shiny, beige tiles, I wondered how many
other lonely people were stuck in that building, past their fighting fit prime.
I wondered if my parents died in a hospital. Or if they were still alive.

And if they were alive, did they have dementia, too? Or did they
remember me? Would they recognize me if they saw me? Or did they have other
children who visited them wherever they were, and I was just a dirty secret
that nobody recalled anymore?

I got a chill as I turned the corner. It was so cold it was
eerie, as if the hospital administrators were keeping the place extra cold so
if one of the healthy people croaked, the frigid air would preserve their
organs better. I rubbed my forearms with my hand, trying to warm up my skin.

I wondered what Sophie’s skin felt like. Was she overheated and
hot to the touch? Or were her thin arms feeling the cold?

I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine what Wyatt must’ve been
going through. I had no idea what it was like to be responsible for someone else.
And she was nine? And her mom was dead? How was a guy like him even coping? Or
was he not the guy I thought he was at all?

Maybe I had him all wrong. If this morning had been my first
impression of him, I would’ve been positive that he was a father above anything
else, whereas the previous forty eight hours had me convinced that he was merely
a seductive user with gifted hands.

Not that I didn’t want to be used.

He was the first guy ever- besides the professor I had a silly crush
on- that I actually willed to use me. And he’d introduced me to all these new
things. I mean, I didn’t exactly swim, but I did get in the boat, and I managed
to give him a blow job that he seemed to approve of. Or at the very least, I
hadn’t exposed myself as the sexual rookie that I was.

Or maybe he was just too polite – or grateful- to say anything.
But at least I’d kept my teeth out of the way. Wasn’t that the most important
rule?

I took a deep breath and blew the air out slowly. I shouldn’t be
thinking about him like that right now. It wasn’t appropriate. Then again, I
was so confused. Everything that had happened in the last hour revealed a
totally different Wyatt than the one I thought I knew.

And yet I wasn’t turned off.

Sure, part of me wanted to run for the hills. I mean, he was a dad.
I had no business spending any more time with him. And yet, seeing him
distraught like that made me want to stay by his side and make sure he was
okay. After all, he’d done nothing but try and make me feel good from the
moment we met.

And he was clearly out of his comfort zone right now. So
naturally I felt like I should stand by him, at least until his family arrived.
I owed him that. Plus, he was right. I was cool under pressure.

I just wished there was more I could do.

And that seeing him in concerned dad mode didn’t turn me on so
much.

Ugh. What kind of freak was I?!

I turned another corner and almost ran right into a small
dumpster on wheels full of medical waste. There was something eerie about the
contrast between the sterile smell and the sight of liquids and syringes and
bloody gauze in bags.

I crinkled my face. I so didn’t need to see that stuff on the
way to the cafeteria.

And then I thought of Sophie again. Did she know her dad was
here rooting for her? Did the guy in the elevator know I wasn’t really his
daughter? Was I going to die alone?

I walked through the cafeteria doors and saw a line of people
looking sickly and green under the florescent lights. Each one was holding a
plastic red tray and waiting for their chance to choose whatever warmed food
seemed the least offensive.

When I got in line, I realized my skin must have looked just as
sallow under the humming lights, and all I could think about was the people in
line in front of me and how we were all going to die alone.

Sure, maybe some of us would be lucky enough to have people
physically near us when it happened- maybe even people who genuinely liked us-
but when the time came, all that would fade away.

And I wouldn’t even be one of the lucky ones.

Not with the way things were going. I mean, if I got my way, I
was going to be so super successful I wouldn’t even need friends I’d have so
much money, power, and responsibility.

Not that I’d never considered the consequences of my cut-throat
ambition before.

But what if there was more to life than work and I was totally
missing the point?

Then again, I adored my job, and it was the only thing I could
ever imagine having such strong affection for. People were too unreliable. They’d
let you down every time.

Still, being doomed to die alone was one thing.

It was being alone in life that was starting to seem overrated.