Loving Enough (The Enough Series Book 2) (3 page)

Rylee

Present

Today marks ten days since the accident. I woke up this
morning feeling as if the world will finally offer some answers today. After a
shower, and oh boy am I sick of hospital showers, I headed down to the
cafeteria to get a bite to eat.

Bode stayed behind with J and Gabe met me in the cafeteria
so we could go over a few last-minute contract details. The breakfast options
at the hospital are decent, so I choose a bacon and cheddar scone with a large
coke to wash it down. It is not the healthiest choice, but I couldn't care less.
Gabe sticks to coffee and a blueberry muffin. The draft is fast approaching.
Gabe and I each go over what we have been working on, compare notes, and set
our goals for the rest of the week. As of now, it looks like we will ready for
New York with time to spare.

I am so grateful for Gabe. He has kept my business afloat
during my absence and maintained the utmost professionalism with the inquiries
surrounding the accident and the rumors that have made their way into the
headlines. The rumor mill has been churning out ridiculous stories since Austin
and I were seen at the charity event together. One of the more recent sensational
fabrications claimed Austin had tried to kill Jeremy because J didn’t approve
of my relationship with the QB. If nothing else, the gossip rags are
entertaining.

Gabe and I have tentatively agreed on him becoming my partner.
It will become official when I get a chance to draw up the formal partnership
papers. However, in the meantime, Gabe has received the benefits and
responsibilities of the position. I would be drowning without him. I am barely
keeping my head above water even with all the help around me.

After Gabe's departure, I call to confirm our hotel rooms in
New York City for the duration of the draft and ask for a welcome basket to be
present in Gabe's room when he arrives. It is still possible I will be absent
from the big event if J does not come around soon. The thought of missing the
draft and not being present for those I represent makes me uneasy, but the
thought of not being here for J is unthinkable. Hopefully he will come back to
us soon. He has to get through this.

I skip the elevator and opt to take the stairs back up to
the sixth floor. Depression and sadness hang in the air like deflated party
balloons, slightly adrift and aimless. People waiting for news occupy every
corner of the main waiting room on the first floor. Waiting is the hardest part.
It prevents you from moving forward. It forces you to take a place in the ever-circling
holding pattern, hoping for your call to land.

In other areas, people are pushing wheelchairs. Many of
their passengers appear to have given up. I keep telling myself there is no way
J will ever give up. He can’t.

When I arrive on the sixth floor and make my way down the
long ICU hallway, passing several nurses as they go about their daily routines,
I wonder how they work in a place clouded by death and despair. How can they go
home at night and focus on anything but the sadness and loss they witness
daily? I could not imagine such a job.

Entering Room 624, I see that nothing differs from the last
fifty times I crossed the threshold. Everything is the same. Bode looks up and
smiles before returning to the seemingly endless supply of entertainment on his
iPhone. I don’t know what he does on that thing but he remains glued to it hour
after hour.

I settle into the blue recliner next to the bed and pull out
my laptop, determined to get through a little more work. Or I might just play
games, who knows. As I get the cords unraveled, and the table situated, I hear
a faint groan. My body stills.

Looking at Bode I see that his eyes are wide and curious,
telling me that he also heard the groan. My heart begins to race and I close my
laptop. Bode and I break eye contact to turn our focus on the third person in
the room.

Another grunt shatters the silence and I jump out of the
recliner, sending it toppling backward as I hover over his bedside. Could it be
that J is finally coming back to us?

Now hunched over the bed, staring intently at J, I see him
shift his head on this pillow. My eyes clash with Bode’s as we watch our
prayers being answered. J is moving. Oh my God, he is actually moving. The
movements are small and appear strenuous, but there is movement for the first
time in what feels like forever.

I take my brother’s hand into mine and rub gently, letting
him know I am here. “J, hey. Are you with us?”

He moans again and squeezes my hand, causing joy to explode
within me. It was the faintest of gestures, but it set my world back on its axis.

After a few minutes and several more grunts, the beautiful
green eyes that match my own make their appearance. Confusion flashes through
his eyes as he takes in his surroundings. The dull room with white walls,
wooden doors, gray chairs, and a few blue accents is nothing to behold. After
scanning the room, his gaze returns to me. I smile as he attempts to focus on
my face.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

He motions to his throat, which I take to mean he needs water.
Bode understands the nonverbal cue as well.

“I will go grab the water and a nurse. You keep him awake,”
he says as he walks out of the door with a newfound rejuvenation. Just seeing J
open his eyes has offered both of us immediate renewal.

J wiggles around in the bed, noting the extent of his
injuries. Unable to use his left arm, he awkwardly struggles to sit up. I grab
the bed remote to raise the bed before gripping his good hand and allowing him
to pull himself into the position of his choice. His strength is a fraction of
what it was pre-accident, but treating him as if he’s helpless will no doubt
get me tossed from the room.

Once he is settled, he asks with a heavy rasp, “What
happened?”

The pleading and confusion in his eyes hurt my heart, but it
cannot dampen my inner smile because in this moment nothing could. He is
awake. 

The doctors recommended that we don’t feed Jeremy any
information so they can form a clear picture of his recovery. Without giving
away too much, I simply tell him he was in an accident and has been in the
hospital for several days. My noncommittal answer seems to appease him.

He looks so much better today. The swelling around his face
has disappeared and the bruises are fading from deep black and blue to light
purple and green. His stitches came out yesterday, leaving pink bumps of newly
healed skin in their place. The missing patch of hair will no doubt put J over
the edge, but I figure he will just shave it all. It wouldn’t be the first
time. His appearance should be the least of his worries considering all he has
been through. Hell, I will shave my head to match his if it means he will feel
better.

With the beaming smile on Michelle's face, you would think
she actually knows us. After spending the better part of the last ten days with
us, I suppose she sort of does. She gives J a drink and explains that she will take
his vitals before a doctor comes in to check him out. Jeremy places his chapped
lips around the bright orange straw and drains the cup. Michelle seems pleased
and she cannot hide her excitement over J’s awake state.

While Michelle takes and records J’s vitals, Bode comes up
behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. My head rests on his chest as we
breathe a collective sigh of relief. For the first time in days, I feel like I
can breathe. With his chin sitting on my shoulder Bode whispers, “God, it’s
good to see him awake. Even if he is going to be a major pain in the ass now.”

We both chuckle, knowing this to be true. J will hate being
immobile and somewhat helpless. As Michelle leaves the room, J's eyes shift to
the hug Bode and I are still absent-mindedly sharing. It feels good to feel
love back in the room after the soul-wrenching despair of the past days. Standing
here with Bode I soak up the feeling of my family. It appears to be whole
again.

With a smirk that gives me hope, J looks us up and down.

“You two look like hell,” he says with his trademark
sarcasm.

We certainly do not look our best. I am clad in a pair of
yoga pants and an old concert tee, with my hair pulled up into a haphazard
ponytail. Bode has on tattered sweatpants, a faded t-shirt, and is sporting a beat-up
baseball cap. We look like two kids straight out of the trailer park, as J and
I did when we were kids. I guess if we had known today would be the big day we
might have considered straightening our appearances a touch. Our less than
appealing clothes aside, I am sure J is referring to the bags under our eyes
and our general exhausted appearance.

We both laugh at the comment before Bode slides around me
and goes to J. The emotion that silently passes between the two friends is
unmistakable. The bond between Bode and my brother runs deep. They share a
kinship that only years of being there for one another can build. Bode hangs
his head with a slight shake before regaining his composure at J’s bedside.
Relief continues to course through me and I see it take hold of Bode as well.

“Brother, you gave us one hell of a scare,” he says with all
seriousness.

I continue to stand back in a haze of sorts as I watch the
two of them talk. Michelle reminded Bode and I to keep the details of the
accident and complications to ourselves until the doctor examines Jeremy. In
this moment, I don’t care about the accident or the problems. All I care about
is J healing. Right now, he is awake and alive and that is all that matters. We
will all be right by his side for his eventual return to the top.

Finally making my way back over to the bed, I lean in and gently
embrace my big brother. I am careful to avoid the many wires and to refrain
from applying any real pressure that would cause him pain.

“God, J, I’m glad you're back. I love you.”

Jeremy

My head hurts like hell, my leg is in a cast, my arm in a
sling, and breathing is downright painful. I can see I am in a hospital and,
judging from the looks on Rylee and Bode’s faces, I have been here a while.

They look like hell. Rylee has lost at least ten pounds and I
would venture she hasn’t slept in days, based on the near black bags under her
eyes. Bode is also a mess. I have never known my ladies’ man of a best friend
to leave the house in sweats or with his hair unkempt, but here he is in all his
natural glory. If I felt better I would give them hell, but I don’t so fuck it
for now.

Besides their disheveled appearances, they keep looking at me
as if I have returned from the dead. I want to ask a million questions, but my
focus wavers and as I find a question it seems to disappear just as quick. The
only question that seems to stick is the one I bark out.

“What the hell happened?”

 They exchange a look and Rylee leans back, taking a seat on
the edge of my hospital bed.

“Well, J, you were in an accident.”

Thanks for that answer, Captain Obvious. “No shit, Ry, I can
see that. What happened?”

My abrasive tone catches her off guard but she brushes it
aside and looks questioningly at Bode. The look irritates me because I can tell
they are hiding something. I am the one in an immense amount of pain and they
think they can hide shit? I don’t think so.

“Will one of you tell me what the hell is going on, please?”

They glance at one another again, further igniting my
growing rage. Rylee tentatively places a hand on my uninjured leg.

“J, please give it a minute and the doctor will be in to
explain everything. They asked us not to explain until they could examine you.”

Her eyes beg me to understand. I can see the sheen of her
tears. The fact that the two people I trust implicitly will not tell me anything
scares the hell out of me. My head is pounding and I have no idea what is going
on around me. This is not who I am. I am Jeremy Ash, professional wide receiver.
I take life by the balls, I don’t sit back and wait for anything. What the fuck
happened and why can’t I remember?

As I am about to rip into the two of them, a tall, lanky man
in green scrubs knocks and enters the depressing as hell room. Well thank fuck.
This had better be the man with some answers. Better yet, maybe he is the man
with the painkillers I desperately need.

He shakes hands with both Ry and Bode before introducing himself
as Dr. Bowen. I try to remain calm and cordial as he explains who he is and offers
his impressive list of credentials. Once the pleasantries are over the
inquisition begins.

“Mr. Ash, how are you feeling?”

Answer: Like a freight train hit me.

“Mr. Ash, what is the last thing you remember before waking
up here today?”

Answer: Shit, I’m not sure. I remember taking Ry to a hotel
after the bomb scare at her office.

“Mr. Ash, do you know what year it is? When is your
birthday?”

Answer: Well, last I checked, it was 2015. My birthday is
June 6, 1990.

“Mr. Ash, are you experiencing any pain?”

Answer: Is that a joke? Fuck yeah, I am in pain.

“Mr. Ash, do you have any questions for me?”

Answer: Yeah, a shit ton, but I cannot seem to make them
coherent yet.

“Mr. Ash, can we get you anything?”

Answer: No, now I just want to go back to sleep.

Once the inquisition is over, Dr. Bowen, Rylee and Bode gently
explain the events of the past ten days. To say I am shocked to learn I have
been in a coma is an understatement. However, at least that explains the
skull-splitting headache. I try to think back to the hotel and the events that
led to my stay here, but it is a blur. I can see pieces of memories. They flash
in my mind, but I cannot place them. Trying to focus on any of them for more
than a second increases the throbbing in my head.  

Dr. Bowen tells me to rest and that my memory will come back
bit by bit, but there is a chance I will not regain it all. The idea I might
not regain my memory scares me until I think back on important things. I
remember my childhood, not that anyone would want to. I remember playing
football in college and being drafted. I remember Ry, Bode, and Eric. Well, it seems
the important shit is still there, and that’s what matters. The way I feel, I’m
not sure I want to remember anything else.

Once Dr. Bowen leaves the room, Ry comes over and sits on
the edge of my bed. It is obvious she has something she wants to get off her
chest, but she gives me a lazy smile instead.

“All right Rylee, I know that look. What is on your mind?” In
other words, Sis, spit it out. I want to return to the comfort that the
darkness of sleep provides.

Her smile fades and she looks down at the blue blanket
covering my broken body. She picks at the tiny balls of lint on the fabric,
which tells me that she is nervous. So I press her a little more. “Spill it,
Ry.”

With a deep breath and tears in her eyes, she does.

“J, I am so sorry for all of this. I cannot believe this
happened to you. Then you wouldn't wake up, and the heart incident, and I was
so damned scared. I want you to know I am so sorry for all of this. I love you
J and I just, just...”

I cut her off, irritated and surprised that she is
apologizing as if this accident was her fault. Her hiccupping sobs continue and,
although I don’t remember the accident, I know Ry is not responsible.

“Rylee Ash, this is not your fault. You did not cause this. I
am not thrilled with my current situation, but I will heal and everything will
be fine.”

 I reach out and grab the hand that is picking at the
blanket as her sobbing quiets.

“J, you don't remember. This is my fault, it is all my
fault. I will never forgive myself for this.”

She looks so broken. I haven't seen that look since Ryan
screwed her over. Unfortunately, I do not know what she is talking about. It’s
not as if she was driving either car. She has to be referring to something else,
but hell if I know what it is. I figure I will just wait and let Bode explain
later.

“Come here, Ry.”

I pull her into my good side and give her a sort-of hug, the
best I can manage with my mangled limbs. I am exhausted and want nothing more
than to drift back into the black, but I could never resist taking care of my
sister. She is my only true family and I will always make sure she is looked
after.

“It doesn't matter what you think you did. I will never
blame you. I love you baby girl, so quit your crying cause I need a nap.”

That earns me a smile and a gentle squeeze. “I can only hope
that is still true once your memory comes back. But I love you too, no matter
what.”

 She stands up and I give her the most genuine smile I can
manage. It must be a decent smile, since it shot pain all over my face. I must look
horrendous if a smile feels this awful.

“Ry, why don't you go home for a little while? I’m willing
to bet you have not left this hospital once, have you?”

She shakes her head. No surprise there. I would’ve done the
same if roles were reversed. Ten days is a long time to go without a decent
night’s rest and, by looking around this room, I know she hasn’t slept well. It
looks like she has fashioned a bed out of the window seat that is at least a foot
or two shorter than she is. And that cushion? I wouldn’t even let Boss sleep on
that cushion.

“Go home, take a nap, get a decent shower, and come back
later. I want to talk with Bode for a while anyway and then I am going to pass
out.”

The reluctance on her face means it is highly unlikely she
will leave, but it is worth a shot.

“Go, kiddo. I will be fine, and I am not going anywhere.”

After a hug and quick whisper to Bode, she agrees and slowly
makes her way out of the room.