Denver: A Bad Boy Romance (FMX Bros Book 3) (13 page)

Chapter 35

Denver

The nurse was coming around the corner out of Jami’s room. She looked down at the box of donuts in my hand. “Oh good. Maybe you can get her to eat something. She refused dinner and hasn’t touched her breakfast. Hospital food isn’t all that tempting, but I think she’s decided not to eat.”

I passed the nurse and walked into the room. Jami opened her eyes. “Hey, neighbor,” she said weakly, and the frail sound of it went straight into my chest. I’d sat with her yesterday until she’d drifted back off to sleep. She hadn’t said anything else, and we hadn’t talked about the violin or her hand. It seemed to be the last thing she needed. Hell, it had been the last thing I needed.

I lifted the pink box. “One has rainbow sprinkles.”

A soft smile formed on her lips, but even her one deep dimple seemed to have been erased by her despair. I put the box next to her untouched breakfast tray. “Don’t you have to be at work?” she asked. “Or is it still Sunday? There’s no way to keep track of time in this place.”

“It’s Monday, and I’m going in late. Cole gave me the morning off. Figured I needed it after he saw the video.”

She looked up at me. “What video?”

I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“My mom’s in town,” she said quietly. She lifted her blue eyes to me. “Harold has been in Georgia for the last two weeks.”

“Yeah?”

She blinked and even that seemed to take all her energy. “It had to be Harold. No one else knew about the violin.”

“Again with the conspiracy theories,” a harsh voice said behind me.

I turned. A woman who was unmistakably related to Jami with the same tiny nose, spray of freckles and blue eyes walked in. She was dressed in designer jeans and a heavy sweater that was completely out of place in California. Her daughter was in the hospital after nearly being dragged to her death, and Jami’s future as a violinist was in question, but the woman had taken the time to curl her hair and put on a lot of makeup. Something about her neatly put together appearance seemed wrong to me. I could still remember my own mom nearly stumbling into the emergency room with tear stained cheeks and her hair completely wild and uncombed when they’d called her about the compound fracture on my wrist.

Jami’s mom shot me a harsh, assessing glare. “Reporters are not allowed in here. Who let you in?”

“Mom, this is Denver. He’s a friend.” Every word took effort.

Her mom lifted her brow and pushed past me. “Jami, I’ve been on the phone with the head administrator at a hospital in New York. They are trying to find the right surgeon.”

Dr. Belkin walked in, and Jami’s mom looked over at her. “Excuse me, but when will the release be signed? I need to get my daughter to New York for surgery.”

Dr. Belkin appeared taken aback by the woman’s tone. And rightly so. I caught Jami’s gaze. Her lips were pulled in a grim line. Her mom’s presence was only making things worse, it seemed.

“I’m not going to New York. I don’t want surgery.”

A derisive laugh shot from her mom’s mouth. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jami. Of course you’re going to have surgery. I’ll book our flight tonight.” She shot another questioning look at the doctor.

“Jami’s had a terrible shock, and I’m not prepared to sign her release yet. I’m not sure if a long flight is best for her. There are doctors here in—”

“I think I know what’s best for my daughter, thank you.”

“I’m not going to New York.” Jami’s voice wavered. “No surgery. I just want my violin back.” She shot me a pleading look that broke my heart in two. And I was helpless. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t find the damn violin, and I had no say over her life.

“When will Jami’s stepfather be back?” I asked. Whether the woman liked it or not, I was in this.

“Again, who are you?” she asked with venom.

Dr. Belkin had apparently had it with the mom too. “This young man saved your daughter’s life yesterday.”

That statement stopped and stunned Jami’s mom for a second. It was a short second. She turned on her sharp heels and skewered me with the blue eyes that I’d mistakenly thought looked like Jami’s. They were nothing like Jami’s. “I suppose you knew about the violin and its value.”

“Mom,” Jami piped up angrily.

“If you mean did I know that the violin means more to her than anything else in this world and that when she plays it the Earth stops spinning and the goddamn birds stop to listen, then yes, I know. And yes, I know it is worth a lot of money. But I didn’t take it. Sorry, but I’m not your scapegoat.”

“Mom,” Jami said quietly. “Go home.”

She looked down at her daughter. “What?”

“Just go home. I’m an adult and perfectly able to make my own decisions. You’re no longer in control of my life. So go home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jami. We’ll get you to the right surgeon and you’ll be performing again before you know it. We’ll probably have to skip Australia, but there’s the winter tour through Europe.”

Tears streamed down Jami’s face. The doctor looked at both of us. “She needs her rest. Visiting hour is over.”

“I’d like Denver to stay for a minute,” Jami said.

Her mom stayed put, and it looked as if fire might shoot from her nostrils at any moment. The doctor stared at her, waiting for her to leave. She turned and left in a huff. Dr. Belkin nodded at me. “Just a few minutes.”

“Right.”

The doctor walked out, and I pulled up the chair next to Jami’s bed. “Do you want that donut with sprinkles now?”

She shook her head. “I had no appetite before my mom walked in, but now I feel a little like puking. I just wanted to apologize for her behavior. This whole notion that her lush, cosmopolitan lifestyle has come to an abrupt end isn’t sitting well with her. And, I think deep down, she knows Harold is behind this. So it’s a double hit.”

“You are very forgiving.”

“Yeah. She’s my mom. Sixteen hours of labor, as she reminds me about at least once a month.”

I looked at the hand in the splint. “Don’t let the hand heal without surgery, Jami. It’ll bother you the rest of your life. Cole is checking with his dad about surgeons over at USC. Apparently, Nate, the Black Thunder guitarist, did some significant damage to his hand years ago, but a hand specialist put him back together good as new. He was playing again in no time.”

A sad hush fell over her as she stared down at her injured hand. “I won’t play again without Stuart.”

Chapter 36

Jami

The nurse shot me a disapproving look as she noticed the untouched food on the tray. “I know it’s not the most delicious meal on the planet, but couldn’t you at least try a bite? The doctor will never sign that release if you don’t eat something.” Nurse Kate was one of those people who treated you as if she’d known you her whole life.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t. I’ll eat breakfast tomorrow. I promise.”

“I’ve heard that line before. Maybe you just don’t want to leave here because you’ll miss me.”

“You’ve found me out, Kate. I will miss you. I mean it.”

She smiled and headed to the door with the tray. She stopped in the doorway and glanced back at me. “Here comes that fine looking man with the intense blue eyes. Boy, is he a looker. And that video of him saving you has sent plenty of hearts a fluttering across the internet.”

“Kate, what video?”

She blanched, suddenly realizing she’d brought up something I knew nothing about, something significant.

“I’ll let you have some privacy.” She scooted out, avoiding an answer. I heard her say something to Denver just before he appeared in the doorway.

He was slightly grit coated from a day on the job site, and all I could think was that, dirt and all, he was breathtaking. He was the only piece of light in these days of darkness.

I scooted up and thought briefly that I couldn’t have looked worse. But he still gazed at me as if I was beautiful, and that was all I needed. “Denver, what video?”

His eyes rounded. “What?”

“The video. The nurse just mentioned it, and you brought it up once.”

He shook his head.

“No, don’t shake your head. Don’t treat me like a kid. What video?”

“Someone captured the whole thing on video, and they posted it. It’s helping the police track down Stuart.”

I swallowed back the dryness in my throat, a parched feeling that returned every time I let myself think about that day. “Show me.”

He pulled up a chair and sat down. He pulled out his phone and stared at it.

“Please. I can handle it. Maybe I’ll see something I missed. It was such an awful blur. I can’t remember much. I just remember the pain and Stuart disappearing into the van. And then I was in your arms. I need to connect the pieces. Show me, please.”

Reluctantly, he ran his thumb over the screen. It took him a minute to find it. He looked at me with those blue eyes that reminded me of the fun we’d been having up until that moment.

I lifted my hand. The ugly array of tubes followed. He placed it on my palm. I held it up and slid my thumb over the screen. My scream blasted through the speaker. I muted it. Then I watched and cringed with the phantom pain, reliving the moment when the door to the van had slid shut on my hand. Suddenly, Denver was there, dripping wet and wearing only a pair of jeans. I’d muted the sound, but it seemed the van was about to drive off. At the time I hadn’t even understood what was happening. Denver jumped onto the front of the van.

He sat now, silently, in the vinyl visitor’s chair staring down at his hands. A sob fell from my lips, and he looked up.

The video ended with Denver pulling me from the van and into his arms. “Denver,” the word came out so quietly it couldn’t be heard over the monitors and machines in the room.

His throat moved with a deep, hard swallow, but he didn’t say a word.

“I had no idea. You saved me.” I handed him back his phone.

He nodded and dropped his gaze back down to his hands. “Thought I was going to lose you.” His voice was tight, and the sound of it released another sob from my throat.

He leaned back and pushed the phone into his pocket with a deep breath. “Jami, I wanted to let you know, if you’re interested, totally your decision, but Nicky King has lined up one of the best hand specialists in the world for you. He’s right here in Southern California. You wouldn’t have to travel far.”

I was still recovering from the video, and it took me a second to interpret his words. I stared down at my useless left hand. Shards of pain still shot through it occasionally, reminding me it was still there and still something else I had to deal with. “Nicky King did that for me?” I asked in disbelief.

He shrugged. “One superstar helping out another superstar.” His handsome smile returned, and I hadn’t realized just how badly I’d missed it. “Cole called him after the accident.”

“Tell Cole to thank his dad. I’m so grateful, but I’m not sure I’m going to have surgery. The doctor says if I let it heal like this, it will give me constant trouble and it will look bad, but I should still be able to pick things up and use it for everyday tasks.”

The doctor popped her head into the room. She had a cheery expression on her face. She paused for a moment as she saw the expressions on our faces. “Mr. Mathison, could I see you for just a moment?”

Denver shot me a confused look, but I had no explanation. He got up and followed the doctor out. I closed my eyes thinking about the video I’d just seen. Just when I’d been sure Denver couldn’t wrap himself more tightly around my heart.

Several minutes passed. I heard footsteps on the hospital tile. Denver appeared again in the doorway. He smiled as he brought something out from behind his back. It was Stuart.

Chapter 37

Denver

It was as if a switch had been turned on, and even with her hand still in bad shape, the daylight had returned. It was the violin. Without it, she was lost. Even though it was evidence, because of the value, the police had returned it. When the doctor had called me out, she’d decided I should be the one to give it back to Jami. The hospital was also not equipped for priceless instruments, and Jami was forewarned that she’d only be able to keep it in the room for a few hours. The men in the van had been arrested, and it had quickly become evident that Harold, Jami’s stepfather, was indeed behind the entire plot. A warrant for his arrest had been issued.

Stuart’s return had brought back Jami’s appetite as well. She’d sent me out for a burrito and cola. I hoped it also meant that she’d now consider hand surgery. Without it, she would surely never play again. It would be a decision she’d regret her whole life.

Burrito and soda in hand, I headed back up to Jami’s room. Her mom was standing in the doorway of her room, looking in, but not entering. We’d only met and spoken that one time, and it hadn’t been exactly pleasant. But this time, a less spit polished, slightly more crumpled looking woman stood at the entrance of the room.

She heard my footsteps and glanced back at me. A weak smile formed on her face. “She’s sleeping,” she whispered in a tone far more friendly than the first time we had spoken.

I looked inside the room. Jami was fast asleep, and the violin case was beneath her injured hand.

Her mom turned and stuck out her hand. “I guess we haven’t really been introduced. I’m Lauren.”

“Denver.”

“Yes. Nice name and from what Jami has told me, nice man too. Good to know there are still some nice men around.” She dropped her eyes. I could see that the news of her husband’s involvement had shocked the hell out of her. “I’m just glad the violin is back in one piece.” She looked back into the room. “I’ve always thought the connection between her and that damn thing was strange. But I suppose I’d have to be in her shoes to understand it. I think she has a piece of her grandpa with her when she has the violin near. She loved him just like she adored her own father. She lost both of them in a short period of time.” She paused. “And, in a way, she lost me as well.” Her voice broke on the last words.

“You’re still here,” I reminded her.

She nodded. “I saw the video. Thank you for what you did. If I had lost her, I don’t think I could go on.”

“You need to tell her that.”

She looked back toward the bed. Jami looked pale and thin but content in the big hospital bed. She stretched and rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. The bright blue color had returned. “Why are you two standing out in the hallway?”

Lauren went in first. “We didn’t want to wake you. You looked so darn cute. It reminded me of the way you used to look when you were little and I’d walk in to make sure you were tucked in and not too close to the edge of the bed. I don’t know why but I always worried that you’d roll out and hurt yourself.”

I placed the soda on the table and held out the bag.

Jami grinned. “You are the best friend a hungry girl could have.” She ripped open the bag. “Ooh, and you remembered the hot sauce.”

“Well, you said hot sauce three times and asked if you needed to pin a note to my shirt to remember.”

“And you did it without the note. Well done.” She opened the paper on the burrito. She busied herself dripping hot sauce onto it. “I’ve decided I’m going to have the surgery on my hand.”

“I’m so relieved, Jami,” Lauren said. “I’ll call New York this afternoon.”

Jami swallowed a bite of burrito. “You don’t need to. I’m having the surgery at USC. Nicky King has arranged the whole thing.”

Lauren took a second to respond. “Nicky King? Leather pants, rock and roll legend, that Nicky King?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” Jami took another giant bite of burrito. She hadn’t eaten in several days, and her hunger had obviously caught up with her.

“I don’t understand,” Lauren said.

“I’m close friends with his son,” I said. “Cole called his dad right after the accident.”

Lauren’s mom put her hand to her chest. “My gosh, please tell Cole and his dad thank you.”

“I wanted to let you know, sweetheart, I’ve asked the lawyers to draw up something that gives you full ownership of Stuart.”

Jami looked up in surprise at her mom.

“Anyone who knows you and that blasted Stradivarius knows that you two are connected by some invisible strings, heart strings maybe.” Her mom’s voice broke, and her eyes watered. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I had no idea what Harold was capable of.”

Jami put down the burrito and tears rolled down her face. “Mom,” she sobbed.

I took it as my cue to leave.