Love Slave for Two

Chapter 28

Nevvie despised the ICU. She was sick of monitors and beeps and the whoosh of ventilators, hushed voices and jarring alarms that triggered more nightmares. She wanted a shower and a real toilet. She wanted a goddamned cheeseburger, but solid food wasn’t in her future for several days yet.

At least she had a TV. She was turning her brain to mush with SpongeBob, but it was better than going stir crazy.

She’d also had a lot of time to think.

The only reason she could tolerate being there without the boys at her side all the time was the sheer number of people around—and morphine. She could see the nursing desk, where at least one person always sat at the station, monitoring patient data feeds on the bank of computer terminals.

She stared at the nursing station her sixth morning there—the boys had already visited—when a woman walked in and stopped at the desk. One of the nurses pointed to Nevvie’s alcove and the woman headed her way. She carried a clipboard, wore a hospital name tag, and looked like trouble.

The woman walked in and pasted on a fake smile Nevvie saw right through.

“Ms. Barton? I’m Nancy Park from Administration.”

Nevvie didn’t offer to shake hands. She never doubted Tyler’s ability to sense things about a person because she’d begun to think she had that same ability, something else they shared.

Nevvie sensed a bitch with a mission.

When Nevvie didn’t speak, Ms. Park continued. “Uh, I wondered if I could ask you a few questions about your paperwork? There seems to be some confusion.”

Nevvie didn’t respond, instinctively mistrusting the woman.

“We have paperwork,” she finally continued, “from Mr. Paulson and Mr. Kinsey, and we’re not sure who your next of kin is.”

“Whatever they gave you, I’m sure it’s right.”

“Well, if Mr. Kinsey is your fiancé—”

Fiancé? “Do you have a point?” What the hell is going on? She’d have a word with her boys during their afternoon visit.

The woman lowered her voice. “Nevaeh—”

“Ms. Barton.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Ms. Barton, if you are in a situation where you need help, you can reach out to us and we can—”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Ms. Park dropped her voice even lower. “If Mr. Paulson and Mr. Kinsey are holding you hostage or abusing you somehow—”

“What?” If Nevvie could have sat up and hit her, she would. Her rage and indignation swelled. “Those men are not holding me hostage. And they damn sure don’t abuse me.”

And it was the truth. That this woman tried to bad-mouth her boys when they’d never mistreated her… Maybe she was dreaming or it was an effect of the painkillers. This bitch couldn’t be for real, could she?

“Well, yes, I’m sure it might not seem like it, but we can refer you to a women’s shelter, and we have professionals on staff, psychiatrists, who can help you learn ways to break free of their mental abuse.”

“Nurse!” Nevvie punched her call button, realized it was her morphine button. She grabbed the call button, thumbing it.

The nurse ran in and Nevvie pointed at the administrator. “I want her out of here. Right now. And a phone.”

Forty minutes later, Bob Campbell and the SICU nursing supervisor were huddled in Nevvie’s alcove with the door closed and curtains drawn for privacy. Nevvie had ordered him not to tell the boys she’d called.

“Bob,” Nevvie said, “I had a screwy visitor, a Ms. Park from Administration, who tried to convince me that the boys have me held hostage and are mentally abusing me.”

He laughed out loud then stopped. “Oh. Oh! You’re serious?” He scowled and looked at the nursing supervisor. “Is this true?”

“Between you and me, the woman has a stick up her ass. She’s been asking questions about Ms. Barton’s chart that are none of her business, and about Mr. Paulson and Mr. Kinsey and their relationship with her.”

“I’m guessing you can handle this, Bob?” Nevvie asked.

He set his jaw and nodded. “I’ve been looking for an ass to chew. I think I just found it.”

“Come back when you finish, wake me if I’m asleep. And don’t tell the boys.”

“I’ll see you shortly.” He grinned. “I love the smell of a HIPAA violation lawsuit in the morning. Smells like victory!”

Nevvie laughed, then moaned in pain and laughed some more. “Go, before I pull a stitch.”

The more she thought about it, the more she seethed. Yes, she was mad about the file she found, but it didn’t cancel out how the boys had treated her, how they spoiled her rotten, how they practically waited on her hand and foot.

How they obviously loved her.

She closed her eyes. How could she have been so stupid? Why didn’t she just sit down and talk to them?

Okay, scream at them.

She wouldn’t make a mistake like that again. She had a second chance to love them, and she damn sure wasn’t giving them up.

Bob returned an hour later, smiling. “Want the short version, which might not make you laugh, or the long version, guaranteed to be a stitch-ripper?”

“Go with the safe one.”

“Ms. Park will no longer be a problem. She was escorted off the grounds without the ability to ‘accidentally’ take any paperwork. Hopefully she didn’t already get anything she can leak to the media.”

“How are they, Bob? Honestly?” She’d sensed the tension between her boys, especially from Thomas, but they tried to hide it.

“How much have they told you?”

“I can only imagine there’s a lot of publicity.” She hadn’t watched the news, not wanting to know.

“Well, you should see this before it goes out. You’ll need hip waders once it hits the wires.” He pulled a paper from his briefcase and handed it to her. “Tyler’s orders.”

She read the press release, her blood boiling. “Are you shitting me? You are not releasing this to the media. No freaking way.”

“That’s between you and Tyler.”

“Give me your cell phone.” They’d already moved her phone and she didn’t want to hunt for it.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to use cell phones in here.”

She snapped her fingers and he handed it over. She dialed Tyler’s cell. He answered, and Nevvie gritted her teeth to control her voice.

“One word, Tyler. Where are you?”

“Nevvie? Is that you? I—”

“I said one word. Where. Are. You?”

There was a brief moment of stunned silence. “Home,” he whispered.

“Where’s Thomas? One word, Tyler.”

“Store.”

“Get your fucking ass in your car and be here in fifteen minutes. Alone. Do not tell Thomas you’re coming.” She hung up. “Thank you.”

He took his phone back. “Damn, girl. I’d love to see you when you’re really pissed and at full strength. Should I go?”

“No, I might need your help.” Pissed didn’t begin to describe how she felt. Mad at herself for blowing up and walking out on the boys, upset that Alex tracked her because of her childish behavior, the annoying bitch from admin.

Now this.

Fourteen minutes later, Tyler hustled into the SICU while trying to catch his breath. Nevvie hadn’t expected him to make it in fifteen minutes, and the fact that he did touched her through her anger. He must have been in his car seconds after she hung up—and blown a few red lights—to get there.

Tyler paled when he saw Bob. She pointed to an empty chair.

“Sit.”

He did.

She recognized Tyler’s sick look and immediately softened her tone. “No, honey, I’m not leaving you. Calm down.”

Tyler slumped and covered his face with his hands. She looked at Bob. “Wait outside, please.”

She called Tyler to her. He rested his head on her shoulder while she stroked his hair.

“Tyler, I love you. I’m not leaving you. I called Bob for help with a nosy administrator.”

“Nancy Park?”

“You’ve dealt with the bitch?”

“She’s trouble.”

“Not anymore. Bob took care of her.” She forced him to look at her. The grief in his beautiful blue eyes broke her heart. “Tyler, you can’t send out that press release.”

“I have to. To take attention off you and Thomas.”

“I didn’t ask you to take attention off me.”

“I don’t want you embarrassed.”

“I refuse to let you put out a public statement saying I’m Thomas’ fiancée. Did he sign off on this?”

“When he did the paperwork he told them you were his fiancée, but he doesn’t know about the press release.”

“Don’t you think you should have asked us?”

“He hates me.”

“No he doesn’t.”

Tyler dropped his head to the bed and she could barely hear his tortured whisper. “Nevvie, he does. He won’t speak to me, has barely spoken to me since this happened. He blames me and he’s right. It’s my fault. If we’d done things his way, none of this would have happened. This way at least people will think you two are normal and I’m the weirdo. You were right, I’m a manipulative arsehole.”

She kissed him again. This was the first time she’d been alone with him since the attack. “But you’re my weirdo manipulative asshole, and I love you” His eyes brimmed with tears. She touched his forehead, which had nearly healed. “Alex really nailed you, didn’t he? Are you okay?”

Tyler nodded and kissed her hand, pressing it against his cheek.

She shifted in bed so she could maintain eye contact with him. “Tyler, you are not putting out that press release. If you do, I will call the Trib and the Times and let them have a full interview with me, including how my wonderful master fucked me with a Popsicle in the backyard. Then the secret will be out and everyone can relax.”

“You wouldn’t?” he whispered, shocked.

“Try me. I’ve had a lot of time to get my head on straight in here.”

He studied her for a long moment. “I think you would.”

“Now you’re catching on. Do I go around randomly blabbing about us? Of course not. In this case I’ll make an exception. Release a statement along the lines of, ‘Ms. Barton is a member of our household, and as the victim of a violent crime, she asks that her privacy be respected.’ Add something about not wanting to say anything because of the criminal investigation.”

“That will cause more questions.”

“Let them ask. Do you care?” He shook his head. “Neither do I. If someone wanted a confirmation I wouldn’t hesitate to admit that I live with two men I love very much.” She stroked his cheek. “I am not Tom’s fiancée. I belong to both of you.”

He nodded.

“Call Bob in.”

He did, updating him. The attorney nodded. “I’ll call Paterno and draw it up.”

When they were alone again, Tyler kissed her. “Why didn’t you call me to handle Ms. Park?”

“You mean handle it like you were going to marry me off to Thomas without my knowledge?”

“Sorry, sweet. I was trying to do what I thought best.”

“Next time, ask.” She softened her tone. “You are neither responsible for all the troubles in the world, nor are you supposed to fix them all, even though you insist on trying. Bob’s my attorney, too. I’m capable of calling him when I need something. There are lots of things I need you for, but you’re not a lawyer. I need you as my husband.”

“Thomas doesn’t want me around.”

“Let me handle our southern fried stud muffin.”

Tyler harshly laughed, then cried against her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Nevvie. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Ty. When I get out of here you can soothe your guilt by being at my beck and call.” He laughed again, sniffling.

“I’ve always been at your beck and call, sweetheart. From the first day I met you.”

She touched his cheek. “I know. I’m sorry I was too stupid to see it before. Go home and come back later with Thomas. Don’t tell him you came here alone, he’ll think you’re trying to horn him out. We’ll fix this, Tyler. It’ll be okay, I promise. Give me a kiss and go home, sweetie.”

He did, and when he left she hit her morphine button and closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to abate.