Starting with the Unexpected (21 page)

Thing was, Davis denied doing any of the things that had been happening to me—the damage to my car, the brick through the window, the shove at the fair, the possum entrails—and I’d wondered aloud to the officers if she’d had anything to do with those occurrences as well. They’d told me they’d check on it. Everyone had assumed that, since the harassment started after Marcus’s very public declaration, it must have been Davis. But it seemed like it actually had nothing to do with that, at all. It would make a sick, twisted sort of sense that Delilah would want to hurt me because that, in turn, would hurt Marcus—much like she thought Marcus had hurt her.

Either way, the chick was psycho. We’d already agreed it wouldn’t come as a surprise if she wasn’t pregnant, but was trying to force Davis to stay with her. At least, we hoped that was the case, since we wouldn’t want to wish a mother like that on any child.

I squeezed Marcus’s hand and let go so I could stand and grab my crutches. “I’m going to go get a soda and let you finish here,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

I felt like kind of a shit for needing to step out of the room and take a few deep breaths, but Marcus seemed to understand. He smiled at me and gave a small nod. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll be right here, and your mom will make sure I don’t try to sneak out.”

Mom had taken up residence on the other side of Marcus’s bed, and she laughed. “We’ll be fine,” she assured me. “Go ahead.”

I nodded at them, then to the officers, and slowly made my way into the hall. I would make my way to the soda machine and back, and by then I’d have managed to get my emotions under control. I hoped that was the case, anyway.

I took my time, both because I had to gather my thoughts, and because fatigue was making me clumsy with the crutches. The last thing we needed was for me to end up in a bed next to Marcus because I’d done more damage to my ankle.

Ten or so minutes later, I made my way back with a can of soda tucked into the pocket of my hoodie, only to have two furious-looking women storm past me. I narrowed my eyes at them and realized they held a good bit of resemblance to my boyfriend.

Oh fuck no, I was
not
going to let his mother and his older sister get their hands on him. I rushed back, trying not to slip and land on my face as I did. As I neared Marcus’s room, I could hear the yelling. Why the hell weren’t those cops stopping them?

“You’re a disgrace to your family. How dare you do this to your sister.”

Holy shit. My boyfriend’s family was full of morons. “He didn’t do this to his sister,” I growled as I shuffled back into the room. The cops were nowhere to be seen, so I assumed they’d left when I went to get a soda. “She did this to her own fucking self. What you fail to see is that she tried to kill your son, you brainless twat.”

“Zachary,” my mother admonished, though she was trying to keep from laughing. “Language.”

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” the older woman that I assumed was my boyfriend’s mother demanded.

“I’m his fucking boyfriend,” I said, moving to get right into her face. “I’m also the person with the authority to have you thrown the fuck out of this room. So if you have something to say, say it nicely.”

The damn bitch actually reached out and pushed me away from her, making my crutches slip. I landed hard on my ass and gasped as the air was knocked out of me. Marcus let out a noise that would probably have been a bellow if his chest weren’t hurting so badly. My mom held him down by the shoulder. Then she stood and walked over to go nose to upturned nose with Marcus’s mother. “You need to leave,” she said pleasantly. For those who didn’t know her, the tone held no threat. For those who did know her, it was a sign she was about to go into mama-bear mode. “Marcus is part of our family, and you don’t need to concern yourself with him ever again. If he wants to speak to you, that’s his business, but he’s my boy now, and I won’t let you hurt him anymore.”

“We aren’t going anywhere,” Marcus’s mother screamed. “That little monster needs to be thrown in jail for what he did to his sister. I won’t leave until I see that happen.”

I finally managed to catch my breath. I sighed. Marcus held up the call button and tilted his head at me questioningly. I nodded, and he hit the button.

“Is there something you need, Marcus?” the question crackled over the intercom.

Oh thank God. Tate was on duty. “Tate, can you send security in here? There are two women in Marcus’s room who need to be escorted out of the hospital.
Now
. If the two officers who were here are still in the building, send them please.”

“Right away, Zach,” Tate said.

“Here’s the deal,” I told Marcus’s mother from where I sat on the floor. “We’re going to get the cops back in here. You go ahead and tell them exactly why you want Marcus arrested. And then I’m going to file whatever charges I can against you, since you shoved an injured man.”

“She did this?”

I looked up and smiled at the officers. “You guys must have just left before they got here, huh?”

“Apparently we should have stuck around another few minutes,” one of them said. “You said she shoved you?”

“Yep. Crutches went one way, I went another. Do you think you can help me up?”

“Let me go get a nurse,” the other officer said.

“Oh, and psycho mom here wants you to arrest Marcus,” I told the remaining officer.

I could see the brief look of “what the fuck” on his face, but the policeman had his professional face back on before he turned to face Marcus’s mother. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Him,” the woman screamed, pointing at Marcus. I half expected her to start foaming at the mouth. “This is entirely his fault. He’s ruined his sister’s life.”

“And now you know where Delilah got her delusions from,” I said. I smiled when Tate rushed into the room. “Hey man, can you help me up?”

“Damn, can’t you try to stay in one piece?” Tate asked, helping me to stand. “Does it feel like you made it any worse?”

“Nah, just knocked the wind out of me.” I leaned on Tate to get back to the chair and sink into it. “Thanks, man.”

“Ma’am,” the officer said, “why don’t we go down to the station? We can discuss what might need to be done as far as Marcus is concerned.”

“Good. At least someone here is listening to me,” she said haughtily. She turned and was escorted out by the officer, followed by Marcus’s older sister.

The remaining officer looked at us and twirled his finger by his ear in the universal that-person-is-obviously-insane gesture. It may not have been professional, but it was true. “You really want to file charges?” he asked.

“I kind of do, actually, but I don’t think it’s worth it,” I told him. “Too much hassle, and it’s not like she’d learn a lesson.”

“You change your mind, you give us a call,” he offered.

“Sure,” I said. “Thanks.”

I waited until he and Tate had both cleared the room and I turned to look at my boyfriend. “Dude, your family’s insane.”

“No shit,” Marcus scoffed. “Seriously, are you all right?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” I said. “Just more pissed off than anything.”

“How on earth did you end up becoming such a wonderful young man after being raised by such a fucking cunt?” my mother finally burst out.

Marcus’s eyes went wide at Mom’s language, but I just laughed. “Don’t look so surprised, gorgeous. Who do you think I learned it from?”

“Seriously,” my mother said, looking exasperated. “That woman needs a love tap from a two-by-four.”

“No violence, Mom,” I said.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter anyway,” she finally grunted. “She can’t have you, Marcus. You’re ours.”

“Stop, Mom,” I protested. I grinned to let her know I was teasing. “You’re going to get all emotional and start to cry, and then you’re going to make us cry. Then I’ll be forced to find something macho to do to reinforce my manhood.”

My mother snorted. “Good. Then you can come mow my yard tomorrow,” she said.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. “Sorry, I’m taking Marcus home tomorrow. Doctor decided to keep him overnight, since they weren’t happy with his breathing.”

She smiled at me and shook her head. “As if you’d come mow my lawn anyway.” She looked at the clock, stood, and gave Marcus a kiss on the cheek. “I’d better get home so I can make dinner for your father. Are you staying here tonight?”

Before I could answer, Marcus turned his head and frowned at me. “You ought to go home and get some real sleep. That chair can’t be comfortable.”

“Hush,” I told him and smiled at my mom. “Yeah. I’m staying here. Bran’s got his clinical walk-through thing, or whatever it’s called, again tonight, and he said he’d check in before and after.”

“I’m glad you two are trying to work things out.” She smiled.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Me too.”

When we were finally alone, Marcus grabbed my hand and squeezed. “So, Brandon finally got up the nerve?”

“What? To talk to me?” I asked. “Yeah. I’m still kind of confused and a little hurt, but he was always there for me before the whole thing with his best friend. I missed him. I was surprised to hear he’d been talking to you, though.”

Marcus shrugged. “He just needed someone to talk to, that’s all. Besides, I knew you hated how fucked up things were between you guys, and I wanted to help fix that. You know I’d do anything to make you happy.” He paused and bit his lip as he looked away from me. “About what I said before I left….”

“Don’t,” I told him. “We were angry. We said things we didn’t mean. I get it. And for what it’s worth, I’m so sorry for my part in it. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I was kind of jealous,” Marcus admitted. “That you and your brother were ever close, I mean. You saw what my family’s like. I’ve never had what you have.”

“You do now,” I pointed out. “Mom was pretty vocal about that.”

Marcus gave me a wide-eyed look and nodded. “Jesus. I’d never have expected your mom to talk like that.”

“What, swear? Don’t let her fool you. She may tell people that I picked up my foul mouth from my dad, since he was in the Navy and people are inclined to believe that whole ‘swearing like a sailor’ thing, but I really learned it from her.” I smoothed his blankets and sighed. “I wish the bed were wider. I want to sit with you.”

“Tomorrow,” Marcus promised. He grinned at me and tilted his head, and I was pleased to see him looking like the mischievous little smartass I’d fallen in love with. “Not sure how well I’ll handle the stairs up to my apartment, though. Mind if I stay with you until I’m up to it?”

“I was actually kind of wondering how you’d feel about moving into the main house—into my room,” I admitted. “I know we said we weren’t going to rush into living together, but I like it better when we wake up in the same bed, you know?”

Marcus glowered at me, and I swallowed hard. “Um, sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have—”

“After I just bought all that furniture?” Marcus asked, and I could tell he had to make an effort to keep from smiling.

“Jordan would probably pay you for it,” I said with a shrug. “Except for what you wanted to keep. Then he could rent it out furnished. We could talk to him about it, at least.”

“Let’s see how we do for the next week or two that I stay with you first,” he suggested. “We can talk about it after we’ve decided we’re not going to kill each other. Does that work for you?”

I nodded, smiling. That was a compromise I could definitely deal with. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was pushed.”

“I’m sorry I called you a giant fucking moron,” Marcus told me, grinning.

“Seriously,” I said, doing my best to sound insulted. “You could have at least called me something a little more creative. ‘Fucktard twatwaffle,’ for example.”

“Sometimes it’s best to keep things simple.”

And that pretty much said it all. Sometimes the simplest things were the best things. A smile from a friend, a hug from your family, a kiss from your lover. They weren’t complicated, but they let you know everything was going to work out and everything was going to be okay.

I leaned in and gave Marcus a gentle kiss. “I love you, Marcus.”

“Love you too, Ollie. I have a question, though.”

“Yeah?” I asked and scooted as close to his bed as I could get. “What’s up?”

He gave me an embarrassed smile. “Why don’t you call me by a nickname?”

My brow wrinkled with confusion. “Well, because neither Marc nor Mari suit you as names. I could call you Mars, but that sounds kind of pretentious to me. Marcus just kind of suits you. Why? Do you want me to find a nickname for you? I could start calling you Shnoogums.”

“No,” Marcus laughed. “That’s quite all right. I was just curious.”

“Shnoogie-oogie Cuddlebumps?” I suggested.

“No.” Marcus said, laughing harder. “Ow, stop. Laughing hurts.”

“Sorry,” I said, and kissed him again. “I’ll wait until you’ve healed to suggest any more nicknames.”

“I appreciate that, even if you’re not really sorry.” He smacked me on the arm, and I made the appropriate melodramatic yelp of pain.

“No, really. I’m sorry.” I rubbed my arm. It really hadn’t hurt, but he appreciated me pretending it had. “Honestly. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Anything?” Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Anything that you’re physically capable of handling at the moment,” I clarified.

“In that case,” he said, pulling on my arm to make me lean closer. “Do you know what I’d really, really love for you to do right about now? What I’m craving so badly that I don’t know what to do with myself?”

I swallowed hard. Damn, but he was sexy. I just hoped he wouldn’t ask for too much, because I was going to have a hard time saying no. “What?” I croaked.

“What I’d really, really love for you to do for me,” Marcus drawled, brushing a hand down my face, “is to go get me a fucking cheeseburger. Hospital food sucks ass, and not in a way I enjoy.” He let me go and smirked when I stared at him.

My boyfriend was an evil bastard. “You’re an evil bastard,” I said out loud.