The Fire Walker (25 page)

"I'm okay," she said, waving him off.

Watching as he disappeared around the corner, I said, "He's too good for you, Zo."

"Shut your face," she said, slapping me on the arm. "This is about you."

Grimacing, I wrapped my arms around her waist and her head fell against my shoulder. I needed the familiarity right now. Sitting in the hospital, it brought back memories of when Zoe had been the one in surgery. This time, even though I wasn't the one who'd been hurt, our roles were reversed.

Wincing as she shifted against me, she pulled back and gave me a look. "You hurt?"

"No, nothing like that," I said and pulled my shirt up. "Tattoo."

"Fire walker," she read, her fingers tracing the inflamed skin. Her eyebrow quirked as if she was asking me a question.

"Do you really have to ask?" I sighed, my eyes beginning to fill with tears again.

"No." Her hand found mine and squeezed. "But you do look like someone beat the crap outta you."

My fingers brushed the cut above my eye. "The other guys were much worse."

"Other guys?"

"You don't want to know," I grimaced remembering the fight.

Zoe's fingers pressed against my lip. It didn't hurt anymore, not like the hole in my heart.

"I love her, Zo," I said, wiping my eyes.

"I know. I've known since back in LA."

"And you didn't think to let me in on it?"

Her hand rubbed circles on my back. "Why do you think I came here to find her?"

"It's strange we know what's best for each other and never for ourselves."

She smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

We sat in silence, waiting for news that Jessie was okay and awake, as people milled around us. There was a TV in the far corner playing CNN on mute, magazines littered on a table in the corner. Distractions for those that waited for word, good or bad.

"Dylan Cosgrove?"

We looked up at the sound of my name. At least it sounded like it through a broad Brooklyn accent. A man in a sharp suit stood at the opposite end of the waiting room and I gathered he was a cop of some sort. Extracting myself from Zoe's grasp, I walked over dreading what he was going to say. I hope they found the fucker and didn't just want my statement.

"Detective Hughes," the man said, flashing his badge and shaking my hand. Since when did detectives devote themselves to hit and runs? "The doctors tell me that you're Miss Ware's boyfriend?"

"Yes, that's right."

"How long have you been in a relationship?"

"We met in LA, about two weeks ago now. She came to meet me in Denver about five days ago." Two weeks? It seemed like eons ago.

"Were you aware of her history with one, Nathanial Barnes?"

"Who?" My brow furrowed in concern. Did Jessie know who did this to her? My heart began to thud painfully against the walls of my chest. "I don't know anyone by that name."

The detective nodded, glancing over my shoulder to where Zoe was sitting. "There had been signs that the perpetrator had been watching Miss Ware for some time. It's entirely possible she didn't know herself."

"What do you mean?" I asked, the blood draining from my face.

"A cab driver reported the accident with the license plate details of the car that struck your girlfriend, which led us to substantial evidence to support a stalking allegation. Phone records, security camera footage from her workplaces. So, if you know anything, we'd appreciate your cooperation."

"I don't know anything," I said, trying to figure it out. "She never mentioned anything to me." There had been nothing to indicate any of this had been going on. How would I know anyway? I'd been here barely two days.

"That's fine, just think about it and let me know if you remember anything."

"Have you arrested him?" I asked thinly, imagining what I'd do to the guy when I got my hands on him. That motherfucker had been
stalking
her.

"He's in custody. Until we can speak with Miss Ware, he will remain so. He violated the restraining order that was out against him by Miss Ware, so he's ineligible for bail."

Restraining order? Shaking my head, I said, “Good." I hoped she pressed charges. Every single one she could.

The detective handed me a card. "If you need anything, give me a call. I'll be back to see Miss Ware once she's ready to see us." My fingers circled around the piece of paper. "The sooner the better," he stressed before walking away down the hall.

Jessie was being stalked. Her stalker had tried to kill her. Things weren't making sense. Thinking back over the things she'd told me, I couldn't work it out. There had been offhanded comments about her less than perfect past, but nothing to suggest that she was being harassed. The more I thought about it, the more her life didn't quite add up. Her apartment, the fact that she could work as much as she had at Galaxy for nothing. The way she'd left me back in LA made me think that it had something to do with this Nathanial guy. Zoe had said she was scared.

Before I totally flew off the deep end, I had to let her explain. After all the shit we'd been through, I owed her that. There had to be a rational explanation for this. Some psycho had tried to kill her for fucks sake.

"Did I just hear what I thought I did?" Zoe asked, her eyes wide as I slumped into the seat next to her.

I nodded, unable to formulate a coherent answer.

"Shit," she hissed.

"Big fucking piles of it," I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

"I had a feeling she was running from something, but not this."

"I think I get it now," I said. "Why she left back in LA."

"Do you think it had something to do with this guy?"

"She has a restraining order out against him. I don't know what he did to her, but it must've been bad."

Zoe curled up into my side again and I pulled her arm around my stomach, not caring that the tattoo still hurt like hell.

"Mr. Cosgrove?"

I looked up again to see the doctor from before and stood, my heart leaping to my throat. He walked towards us purposefully and I was dying to read the expression on his face so I'd have some inking of what he was going to say.

"Your girlfriend is in recovery now. She's still asleep, but you're welcome to go see her. She will be disoriented after her accident, so it's best if she wakes to a familiar face."

"She's going to be okay?"

"We were able to stop the bleeding in her abdomen, but it will be a while before we know if there will be any repercussions from her injuries. We need to keep her for observation for a few days."

"What do you mean, repercussions?"

"Internal bleeding can cause stress on the surrounding tissue and organs," the doctor explained. "We need to run some tests and monitor her vitals. She had a nasty blow to the head and also has some possible fractures on her ribs and arm. We've placed a temporary cast on her forearm, but once she's recovered enough from her surgery we will need to take her to x-ray to determine the full extent of the breaks."

"Okay."

"She didn't have any emergency contact in her records," he frowned. "Do you know a way we can contact her family?"

"I-um... I don't think she's on good terms with them. They live in Canada, I think. I guess I'm it."

"Okay. We like to have family on record in case we need things like blood transfusions. It's better coming from a relative who's a match than a donor."

"Okay."

The doctor pointed towards the doors he'd walked through. "This way."

I looked back at Zoe and she waved me away. "Go," she said. "She needs you."

Giving her a thin smile, I followed the doctor through the double door and down the hall to the area I assumed was intensive care. Through open doors there were beds with patients hooked up to multiple machines, the strange hospital disinfectant smell hanging in the air.

I was led into a room towards the end of the hall and my eyes instantly settled on Jessie and I didn't know what I was supposed to feel. I mean, how are you meant to feel every emotion in the world at the same time and not be overwhelmed?

She looked small and fragile, her skin hollow and pale. An IV was stuck in her arm, dripping clear liquid through a tube and a machine was hooked up to one of those clips that sat over her finger to monitor her heart rate. Her left forearm was sealed up in a white plaster cast, large and bulky compared to her slender frame. The cut on her forehead was stitched back into her hairline and I knew underneath the hospital gown, her skin was covered in cuts and bruises. The room was silent, putting me on edge.

"Press the call button if you need anything or have any questions," the doctor said kindly. "She looks rough, but she's through the worst of it."

"Thanks," I mumbled, grateful for the guy's kindness.

Once he'd left, I pulled a chair over to Jessie's bedside and trailed a finger along the back of her hand, wondering how long it would be before she woke. I'd never wanted to see her big brown, Bambi eyes so much in my entire life.

Curling my fingers through hers, I drew her hand to my mouth, pressing my lips to her knuckles. I had no idea what Jessie had been through to get to the point of having her stalker try and kill her, but whatever it was I'd be there for her. I didn't think my heart would let me do anything else.

I'd never felt so disoriented in my whole life. I wanted to open my eyes, but something was stopping me. Everything felt heavy, like someone had filled my veins with lead. Darkness fizzed at the edges of my vision as my eyes began to open, and I felt a hand in mine.

I mustered what strength I could and squeezed. Don't let go. Don't leave me.

"Jessie?"

I knew that voice. It spoke to my heart and I knew it was Dee. He didn't leave me. He was still here.

"Dee?" I rasped, my voice sounding far away.

"Yes," he said. "It's me. I'm here."

I ran my tongue over my dry lips. Where was I? As my vision started to clear more as I woke, I realized I was in a hospital room. How did I get here? I went to sit up, but a hand held me down.

"Don't try and move just yet," Dee said, running a hand over my cheek. "Just rest."

"What... Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital. Don't you remember?"

All of a sudden I remembered the car that had come out of nowhere. Squealing tires, horrified screams from strangers on the sidewalk and air... nothing but air. A sob escaped my throat, but he was there, wiping away my tears.

"It's okay," he murmured, his touch bringing me back to life. "You're gunna be okay."

"What happened?"

He frowned, biting his lip.

"
Dee
."

"You were hit by a car," he explained. "You had some internal bleeding and had to go into surgery as soon as the ambulance brought you in. You might have a fracture on your arm and ribs, but the doctor said they'd take you to X-ray once you were awake from surgery. Tomorrow."

Glancing down, I realized a cast had been placed over my left arm, that's why it felt so heavy. My eyes met Dee's again and I knew that wasn't the whole story. My heart sputtered and the machine that was beeping dully in the background matched the erratic beat.

"What else?" I whispered. I had a bad feeling that this had something to do with Nate.

"The police were here. After you were hit, the car drove off. It was reported as a hit and run. A taxi driver got the rego of the car," he paused.

"It was Nate, wasn't it?" I asked straight out. He obviously already knew. The police had spoken to him while I was out.

He nodded, eyes downcast.

"Dee," I started, desperate to explain. My throat felt raw and my head throbbed, but I didn't care.

"You don't have to say anything right now," he said. "You've just woken up from surgery. Rest."

"No," I reached for his hand. "I need to. I owe you."

"Jessie, you were almost killed. Maybe you should take a moment."

"No," I exclaimed, feeling panic rise in my chest. "
No
. Don't leave." I had to tell him. What if he left again?

He must have understood, because he stood, his hand caressing my face. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. "Are you thirsty?"

I nodded and he poured a cup of water from the jug on the table at the foot of the bed. Wetting my throat and cooling the burn, I sunk back into the pillow. I think Dee assumed I was going to go back to sleep, but I pulled on his hand.

"Jessie," he began, but I needed to explain now. I didn't care about how bad I felt or it had been less than fifteen minutes since I'd woken from major surgery. I needed to give him my soul.

"When I first moved here, it was against my parents wishes. Even though I was legally old enough, I pretty much ran away. Packed up in the middle of the night and left."

"Jessie, please," he argued, but I dug my fingernails into the skin of his hand.

"I was broke and living on the street, so I tried to get in with some rich kids and I got in all right. I manipulated one particular guy to the point he was paying my rent, buying me clothes, food..."