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

  “I’ll get back to you after I talk to my dad.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” I stuck the phone back in my pocket and headed up to Jami’s room. The medical team who had been standing in her room were at the nurse’s station looking at something on the computer.

  One of the nurses looked up as I neared. “Here he is,” she said. All of them looked up at once, and it made my breath stop.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked.

  One of the doctors, a tall woman with a nice smile stepped forward. “Hello. I’m Dr. Belkin. Jami is resting and she’s fine. We were all watching the video. Earlier, when we were evaluating her hand, we were only thinking about reconstruction to get it back to as close to normal use as possible. This changes things dramatically. We’ll wait for her mother to arrive to discuss other options.” Her expression turned even more sympathetic. “That was quite an ordeal, and you still look shaken. Is there something we can get you?”

  “I’m fine but I’d really like to see her.”

  She nodded. “I think she’s coming out of the medication a bit, but she’ll be extremely drowsy. You can go in for a few minutes.”

  I took a deep breath. I wasn’t completely sure what to say to her. In one fucked up moment of time, her entire life had changed dramatically. I headed toward her room but stopped and looked back at the doctor. “How bad is it?”

  She hesitated, and the gracious smile turned slightly downward. “The damage is extensive. I’m not a hand expert or a musician for that matter, but . . .” She paused again and glanced toward Jami’s room. “It will be a long road back. I think it’ll be up to her. But after seeing that video, it could have been a lot worse. You saved her life.”

  Chapter 34

  Jami

  None of it was real. The weird greenish lights glaring down at me from the ceiling. The starkly appointed room with the beeping monitors keeping time with my heart rate. The ugly array of tubes coming from my hand, the only hand that I could see or that I had feeling in. I lifted my left arm, but it was heavy with a splint. I lowered it without looking. None of it was real. Stuart was still with me. I could feel the connection, the piece of soul that we shared. He couldn’t be gone.

  A tall figure walked into the room. There had been so many people in and out, I’d ignored the person at first. But then my eyes came into focus. The lump that had tightened in my throat with the thought of Stuart being gone, hardened even more when I looked up into Denver’s pale face. Words were impossible. Tears were easy.

  He walked up next to the bed, the same confident, calm, intelligent man I’d grown to love in the past few weeks, but his distress was palpable.

  His hand was shaky as he reached up and touched my arm. “How are you feeling?”

  I stared up at him through watery eyes and heavy lids. It seemed he was feeling my heartbreak as keenly as I was. And I loved him even more for it. I couldn’t answer. Speaking was too much. I worried that if I started talking, it would all be too real, and I would fall apart.

  He crouched down next to the bed and gazed at me. “Your mom will be here soon. Don’t know if that’s good or bad. Just thought you should know. She’ll help you decide what to do about your hand.”

  I turned my face away. Looking at him only made the ache in my throat worse. The industrial style window was covered by white blinds, obliterating any natural light. I briefly wondered how anyone could ever feel better or heal in such a bleak place.

  Denver stood back up. His long shadow stayed over me, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything or even look at him. It hurt too much. Everything hurt too much.

  “They’ll find that violin, Jami. A rare instrument like that doesn’t get far. It’s like someone walking off with the Mona Lisa.”

  I stayed faced in the direction of the window, listening to his words and hoping they were true.

  “I’ll go. You need your rest.” He sounded completely lost, and it tugged at my chest.

  I heard his footsteps as he was leaving.

  I sucked in a deep breath. “Denver.” My voice sounded strange and just as lost.

  He stopped and looked back at me.

  I scooted over and glanced at the empty spot I’d made for him on the bed. He walked over, lowered the railing and climbed onto the mattress, taking care not to bump my broken hand. He put his arm around my shoulder and I rested my head against him. The early morning nightmare flashed through my mind and tears fell again. The only thing that was real, that was worth taking my next breath for was the man sitting next to me.

  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.