Tackled by the King: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (24 page)

Just as I was about to heft myself off my chair, my phone started ringing. I blew a raspberry out my lips, setting my things back down. Kingsley stared at me from across the table, saying nothing as he sipped from his smoothie. I answered my phone with more emotion than I'd intended.

“What? I'm sorry, I mean, hi –”

“
Carrie?
”

Nurse Samantha sounded calm, but the lack of life in her voice sent a chill shivering down my spine.

“Yes?”

“
It's Jackson. He's just been admitted to the ICU. When can you get over here?”

“What?” I squeaked, my arms shaking. “What's wrong –”

“We don't know yet, Carrie. All I can tell you is that his condition is critical. Just please, get here as soon as you can.”

“I'm – I'm on my way.”

Chapter Thirty-Three:
Carrie

Everything was going to be fine. That's all I could keep telling myself. I needed to hold myself together just a little while longer...

None of this felt real – or rather, I didn't want it to be. My cheeks were still damp, but I couldn't even remember shedding any tears. I felt like my own ghost chasing after my undead corpse as it mechanically lumbered up the cement walkway of Bellevue. I hadn't felt this hollow since that night I waited until 4AM for Mom and Dad to come home, only to be greeted by a cop at the door.

“Flowers, miss?”

I blinked, shifting my gaze to my left. A gentleman in a newsboy cap beamed at me warmly from behind his flower stand, holding out a pretty bouquet of pink and white carnations. I could do nothing but stare. My mind was lagging as I processed the break of unexpected beauty amidst this ugly reality I was trapped in.

“No, thank you.”

“No problem, miss.” He plucked a white carnation from the bouquet and handed it to me. “This one's on me. I hope you have a good day.”

“I – thank you.” Not knowing what else to do, I accepted the carnation. I wrapped my fingers around the stem, clutching it to my chest as I wandered away from the stand. “Me too.”

As I drifted back onto the walkway, I surveyed my surroundings. After days of gray skies and pouring rain, the sun had decided to come out of hiding and was shining brighter than ever. Giddy mothers pushed their strollers down the sidewalk. A group of laughing kids glided down the sidewalk with their colorful hoverboards. Leaning against a lamppost was a scruffy young man next to a cardboard sign and a styrofoam cup of change. He strummed his ukulele happily, filling the streets with a morbidly uplifting tune. His beautiful voice and cheerful lyrics were the only clear words I could make out amidst the Sunday afternoon chatter.

“
I'm never gonna look back, no. I'm never gonna give it up, no. Please don't wake me now. Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh, this is gonna be the best day of my life...my li-i-i-i-i-i-ife.
”

It was at this moment that I truly grasped what it meant to be the insignificant speck that I was in a world that hosted billions – not to mention the indefinite number of others beyond the stratosphere. My little nephew, the sweetest, most beautiful boy you could ever meet, was up there fighting for his life right now, and the world was just simply going on as usual.

Choking back a fresh batch of tears, I tore my eyes away from the painfully blissful scene. I hurried into the Bellevue entrance and made a beeline for the elevators. No more distractions – I needed to snap out of this mopey trance I was in. Jackson needed me, and that was what I needed to focus my energy on.

As soon as the elevator dinged, I tossed the carnation into the trash and slipped through the doors.

When the elevator doors opened to the 8
^th
floor, I stirred in place. A mob of reporters with flashing phones and TV cameras crowded at the nurses' station. Val and Jamie stood in front of the counter, each facing a different collection of microphones. I was gawking so long the elevator doors began to close again. I kicked out just in time, the doors springing back as they came in contact with my foot.

“Carrie!”

Nurse Samantha flagged me down by the operating room doors. She appeared remarkably composed, but her pointy lips were pressed in a taut line. My shoulders shrank forward as I approached her, almost as if I were guarding myself from the news I knew she didn't want to deliver and I didn't want to hear.

“What's going on?” I asked hoarsely. I exhaled loudly, only then realizing I'd been holding my breath.

“Jamie brought Jackson in here about an hour ago, and he was unresponsive. Said he'd been having stomach pains all night. When she gave him breakfast this morning, he threw up all his food and started seizing.”

“I knew he was feeling a little sick yesterday, but I thought it was nothing more than just a tummy ache from the extra scoop of ice cream he had. He gets those all the time...” My eyes rounded in alarm in the middle of my rambling. “Oh my god. I – I was the one who gave him that extra scoop. Do – do you think I –”

“No, Carrie, I don't think it was anything you did –”

“So what's wrong with him?” I demanded shakily. “Where is he? Can I see him now?”

“Let's wait till the reporters leave.” Nurse Samantha squeezed my hand. “I'm sorry, Carrie, I know this is difficult, but we're still looking into it. The doctors were able to stop the seizures and get him stabilized, but as of now, Jackson's slipped into a coma. Now, I know that sounds scary, but we're confident...”

I stopped listening after the word “coma.” It felt like my heart had stopped beating in my chest all at once, too. It had been thumping in my ears all day, but right then and there – nothing but agonizing silence. I took a deep breath, jabbing my chin at the reporters.

“And what are they doing here?”

“They must have found out that Val Presley was going to be here. He arrived around 15 minutes before you did,” Nurse Samantha explained. She folded her arms crossly. “And these vampires showed up not long after. I'm surprised you didn't run into one on your way up here. I've heard a couple talking about Kingsley Kelly coming over here later, too. I think that's why there's so many of them.”

“Well, they're gonna be waiting around forever, because I don't think he's coming –”

“Carrie! There you are.”

Val pushed past the crowd, starting a conga line of reporters. He threw his arms around me, holding me close to him. But with the blinding bursts of light and the grating microphone feedback, Val's chest felt suffocating. I wriggled away from him, but I let him hold onto my hand.

“Carrie! Carrie, can you tell us what's going through your mind right now?”

“Carrie, how long have you been going out with Val Presley?”

“And is it true you were once involved with Kingsley Kelly, too? And is there any chance he'll be dropping by later?”

I narrowed my eyes at the smarmy bucktoothed reporter brandishing his microphone under my nose. All I wanted to do was snatch that microphone out of his hands and beat him over the head with hit. Instead, I loosened my shoulders and took a step back.

“No comment.”

“Wait, Carrie –”

“I think that's enough for now, fellas,” said Val courteously, waving at the reporters with a dazzling smile.

Pulling away from Val, I rushed into the janitor's closet. I slammed the door, shutting out all the craziness. The closet stunk of bleach and provided almost no leg room with its fully stocked arsenal of brooms, industrial vacuums, cleaning chemicals, and other supplies, but the unorthodox haven was just what I needed. I flattened myself against a shelf and felt my sticky forehead with the back of my hand.

Val slipped into the room, locking the door behind him.

“Sorry, that was just a little overwhelming –”

“It's fine, Carrie.” Val cozied up to me against the shelf. He lifted my chin and brushed away my tears, kissing me. “I understand. It's a lot to take. I came here as soon as you called. I'm really sorry about what's going on with Jefferson –”

“Jackson.”

“Of course. My mistake,” said Val hastily, swallowing.

“That's okay.” I traced my fingers along his jaw, sighing. “Thank you so much for being here.”

“I had to come.” Val turned his head slightly to the side, moving my fingers to his lips. He kissed each fingertip as he spoke. “I really care about you, Carrie. I didn't think I'd feel this way about anyone else after my divorce.”

When Val mentioned his divorce, I tensed up under his touch. What Kingsley said to me outside The Daily Dirt building seeped into my thoughts. I'd been keeping that on the back burner for a while. Part of me wanted to respect my new relationship with Val; it wouldn't be fair to do another background check on him behind his back now that we were involved and the project was complete. The other part was one I wasn't ready to acknowledge, the fear that I might actually find something the second time around. Then again, I wouldn't put it past Kingsley to lie to me. He's had plenty of experience in that department. It's not like he was best buddies with Val, anyway. More importantly, Val's been nothing but the perfect, respectful gentleman to me thus far...

“Thank you. I –” I hesitated, stopping myself before I could complete a thought I wasn't even sure I meant. “I just – I hope he wakes up. I need him to wake up. He needs to be okay. He just has to be –”

“Hey, hey.” Val's hot breath brushed my neck. “It's okay. I'm here now.”

“I just –”

“And I think I know exactly what needs to be done to get that sweet smile back on your face...”

When I felt his lips grazing against the spot behind my ear, a chill tingled down my back.

I reacted almost automatically, kissing him back as he mashed his lips against mine. His hands traveled down my spine, slithering under the hem of my top. I swallowed, my eyes following the shape of his hand bulging through my hoodie. He tickled a trail up my heaving stomach and found his way into the cup of my bra. I groaned, feeling him squeezing my breast in tender, circular motions, his fingertips pawing at the line of my cleavage.

“You don't have to fight it.” Val sank his teeth into my bottom lip, nibbling between his words. “Trust me, I know what I'm doing here, and you're going to feel so good in a minute...”

I tilted my head back, knocking over a broom with my shoulder. Val's words were sinfully tempting, but something just didn't feel right. He rolled my top up to my neck and lowered his head to my chest. As he started flicking his tongue against the nipple of my exposed breast, he angled his head to the side so he could peer up at me. I closed my eyes, allowing his wet tongue to smother my nipple with spit. But when I felt him guiding my hands between his legs, positioning my fingers around the stiff pole poking out of his dress pants, I eased him off me.

“Sorry, Val. This really isn't the time.” I pushed my breast back into my bra and fixed my top. “I'm gonna hit the little girl's room.”

Before Val could say anything else, I slipped out of the closet. I tiptoed behind the reporters to get to the bathrooms, peeking over my shoulder. With Val out of the way, all the reporters flocked around Jamie.

Jamie's oily hair was a mess and her flushed face streaming with tears, but I couldn't help but notice how comfortable she seemed in front of the cameras.

“– all those signs – I should've seen this coming! I just want my baby to be alright... It's not right for such a young mother to lose a child. I've done everything I possibly could as a single mother who was wrongfully let go from a minimum wage job I busted my ass at – all to pay the bills for my son, the only light of my life. There is only so much a mother can take.”

I was getting a little dizzy from all the “I”s Jamie used in a span of 30 seconds.

Jamie took a breather, turning away briefly to sob into Kingson's scaly back. I hung back for a few more seconds, but when I spotted the reporter breaking away from the pack and making his way towards me, I spun around and marched straight into the women's room.

Chapter Thirty-Four:
Kingsley

I stepped out of the elevator with a bag swinging in my hand. Most of the lights were turned off to accommodate the resting patients. The only sounds on the floor were the whispers from the staff and the squeaking wheels of the janitor's mop bucket.

I was never too fond of hospitals, but the dim hallways, dark windows, and lack of activity at night was making my balls shrink.

I walked up to the nurses' station, clearing my throat. The gangly nurse in pink scrubs glanced up from the desktop. His short ponytail bounced as he jumped to his feet.

“Hey, Nurse Tim, right?”

“Mr. Kelly.” He looked around me as if to check if the coast was clear. “How can I help you? Carrie isn't here. She went home for some clean clothes, but she should be back later.”

“That's alright. I just thought I'd pop in to Jackson's room real quick. Got him a couple of things for when he wakes up.” I lifted the bag in my hands.

“I'm afraid visiting hours is over, Mr. Kelly,” Nurse Tim replied anxiously, pulling at the neck of his scrubs. “Only immediate family members are allowed in the patients' rooms after 9.”