Rocked Down & Out (Rocked #11)

Rocked Series #11

By Clara Bayard

Copyright © 2016 by Clara Bayard

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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Divided desires and divided loyalty 

For the first time in a long time, Ellie Martin has to make a choice between her budding career and the man she's falling for. But when hearts are open, they're much easier to break.

I came to slowly, sound returning first. Then touch, as gentle fingers stroked my hair back from my face. Then smell and finally, hazily, sight. The first thing I saw was a pair of beautiful hazel eyes, full of concern and care.

Matthew's eyes, looking down on me. Matthew's fingers in my hair. My head in his lap.

Around my dry tongue, I croaked out a question. "Don't you hate me?"

He shook his head. "Hush, stay still. Ambulance is coming."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. You fainted. And hit your head."

"I'm okay. Let me up."

One of his hands gripped my shoulder, holding me down. "No. You could have a concussion or…" panic and pain blazed through his face, leaving his handsome features twisted and drawn. "Just… don't move."

My vision blurred and I sighed. "Okay."

There was a commotion around us, about me, I assumed, but I didn't really care. As much as my head was beginning to pound, Matthew's touch softened the edge of the pain. "Thank you," I whispered.

"For what?"

"This. Helping me."

He smiled faintly. "I'm just sorry I didn't catch you before you fell."

"Mmm, that would have been better. Try to remember for next time."

Matthew laughed, and the tension in his face eased. His hand stroked my cheek.

I was opening my mouth to speak when a new face appeared above me. A strange face.

"Miss, are you all right?"

"She will be," Matthew said, curling his torso over as if to protect me from this interloper.

"Of course," woman next to him said. "Medical attention is on its way. If you need-"

"Just leave us alone," he spat at her, interrupting. "Don't worry, no one is going to sue the hotel. At least not if you back the fuck off right now."

She cleared her throat and backed up a step.

I choked back a laugh, which induced an agony in my skull that I couldn't describe. My eyelids felt heavy and I let them close, anchoring myself to the world outside by fisting a hand in Matthew's shirt.

All too soon there was a new rush of noise, and he was pulled away from me. A pair of paramedics took over, examining and asking questions. Sounds and lights made my head hurt more and I whimpered throughout the process.

They helped me to my feet and over to waiting stretcher.

"I'm okay," I insisted, to no avail. Regulations or something. So I stopped arguing and just observed the crowd of people watching the scene. Hotel guests and staff milled around at a respectful distance, a few taking photos.

And then my eyes settled on Matthew. He was standing with his arms crossed, bouncing slightly on his feet.

"I… can my friend ride to the hospital with me?" I asked shyly.

"Sorry, no. He'll have to meet us over there."

Matthew smiled and walked over to stand next to me. He reached out and took my hand. "You're going to be okay. I'll grab a cab and be right behind you."

One of the paramedics fastened a strap across me and gestured for Matthew to back up. "We're taking her to University Hospital." He looked down at me. "Time to go."

"All right."

*

The next few hours were a blur of tests and questions. Doctors and nurses. Being rolled from one section of the hospital to another. And a lot of waiting. Finally, a doctor came into the curtained off area where I'd been dozing and told me I was fine.

"So what happened?"

He shrugged, which wasn't very reassuring. "All of your labs came back okay. There's no sign of anything troubling." He looked down at my chart. "Says here you're working long hours and traveling?"

"Yeah."

"I also see it looks like you're not eating enough. Working long hours and not getting the rest you need. That sort of thing will always catch up with you. You've got to take care of yourself, Miss Martin."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Did something happen before you passed out?"

"Yeah, I got into a huge fight with my brother."

"Ah. Considering the state of exhaustion you're in, overloading your emotions on top of everything is probably the cause of the panic attack. Have you had any before?"

"No, never."

"Hm. Well, I wouldn't worry too much. They're not uncommon and can, if you're not careful, lead to episodes such as this." He flashed a stern look at me.

I pretended to ignore it and asked, "What do I do now?"

"I'm going to release you, but you've got to rest. I recommend a few days off at least. And after that, be smart."

"All right."

The doctor smiled. "Do you have any other questions for me?"

"No."

"Okay. Sit tight and let me finish this paperwork and we'll get you out of here. Oh, you mentioned your brother. I believe he's downstairs creating quite a scene. Would you like me to have him removed?"

I seriously considered it for a moment. "No, I'd like to see him."

"You got it." He nodded once and then left the room.

I shifted up on the bed to look at myself in the mirror over the sink. My face was pale and my eyes wild. With a snort of disgust I turned away. What a pile of shit. How had I become some kind of pathetic Victorian character? Fainting because of my fucking feelings? Weak and pathetic.

Still cursing myself, I barely noticed when the door opened. I looked up, expecting to see Steven, and wondering how he'd even found out where I was.

But instead, Matthew's gentle eyes met my gaze as he walked in and came over to sit on the edge of the bed.

I curled my legs up and made sure the thin fabric gown was covering me. "Hi."

He smiled tightly. "Hey. How are you?"

"Okay, apparently."

He reached out and put his hand on my knee. "I'm so sorry I couldn't see you before this. I was downstairs trying everything, but they wouldn't let me up because I'm not family."

"Oh." I thought for a moment. "Wait, my doctor said someone was downstairs making trouble. That was you?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't trying to cause trouble. I just didn't want you to be alone." His eyes went distant for a moment. "I know what it's like to be stuck in a hospital bed waiting to hear your fate."

I smiled, which made my head throb again. "That's really sweet of you."

"Would've been sweeter if it had worked. If I'd been Rick I could've terrorized them better. Or Joe, they'd probably just let him go where he wanted."

I put my hand over his and squeezed. "It doesn't matter. You're here now. And I'm grateful."

Our eyes met and we sat there in silence for a long moment.

Eventually Matthew looked away. "Look, there's something else I need to say."

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "You don't need to be."

"I do. I… I heard what Steven said. I… I should have trusted you."

"Why would you? We barely know each other."

"That's not true. Sure, we just met, but… I know you wouldn't lie to me. About sending that footage or about Steven being your brother. I was stupid and angry and I let Rick get me riled up."

"It's all right."

"It isn't. And I knew right away. I knew when I saw your face. How hurt you were. I was coming after you, wanted to talk it out. But part of me still wondered. Which is why I was eavesdropping."

I smiled grimly. "I don't mind that. But really, I'm the one who should say sorry. Steven did it on purpose. And I never even considered the possibility. He violated your trust. It was mean and unprofessional. We deserve to be fired. Him for sending that footage and me for allowing it to happen."

"It wasn't your fault."

"No, but it was my responsibility."

Matthew shook his head and then grinned. "You're incredible."

I scoffed. "Oh, sure. Terrible at my job, passing out in public, and looking like a homeless ghost right now. I'm
amazing
."

"You are. And you don't look like a homeless ghost." He scooted up closer to me. "You look beautiful."

"And you clearly need to get your eyes checked."

We both laughed and it felt like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. Everything was still a total mess, but for some reason, just being close to him, sharing this moment with him gave me hope that I could get through it.

*

By the time I got back to the hotel my head felt better but exhaustion had overtaken me. Matthew helped me to bed and I was asleep before I could even thank him.

When I woke up it was dark in my room and just a hint of light was coming through the window. I rolled over and groaned. Too many hours in the same position left me aching. My throat was parched, my stomach was angrily empty and my head hurt like crazy.

I sat up slowly and flicked on the light. There was a bottle of water on the bedside table and a note scrawled on hotel stationary.

After chugging half the bottle I paused to read. The note was from Matthew. He'd left the water when they had to go to the meet and greet, and told me to call him when I woke up, whatever the time.

Glancing at the clock I realized it wasn't late, it was early morning. I'd slept through the whole night. I groaned again and climbed out of bed. On my way to the bathroom I saw the little desk was covered in more bottles of water and a giant pile of snacks from the vending machine.

When I came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, I was still smiling. I drank some more water and turned on the television just for some noise. Flipping channels while I sampled some of the snacks Matthew had left me, I leaned back against the headboard.

I settled on one of the local stations who were running a ridiculously early news show and watched the headlines scroll across the bottom of the screen. It didn't seem like the world had ended while I slept, which was good to know. But then I wondered if I'd spoken too soon when a picture of the members of Dream Defiled came up on the screen. I fumbled with the remote to turn the sound higher and held my breath.

"And in entertainment news, bad luck rock band Dream Defiled seems to be turning things around. Only a few days into their new tour, the group is selling out stadiums and reminding fans why they've put up with the internal drama for so long." The female anchor smiled. "It's nice to see them getting back to work, and from what we're hearing, they're sounding better than ever."

Her male counterpart nodded. "Yes, but if you pay attention to the internet – which I do – there are rumors of trouble still brewing."

"Is that right, Ken? Do tell. Have you been reading gossip blogs again during commercial breaks?"

He chuckled. "Guilty as charged, Barbara."

Ken and Barbara? Seriously?
A couple of jerks named after toys shouldn't talk shit about anyone else.

Barbara patted his arm. "It's all right. Tell us what you're hearing."

"Well, word on the web is that someone in the band went to the hospital yesterday. Now, all members were present at the show last night, but who knows. Overdose? Stomach pumping? Maybe antibiotics? Could be anything, but with these young guys, anything is possible."

"Well, that is interesting." Barbara said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Hopefully everything is all right and fans across the country don't have to worry about more cancelled dates."

I groaned and put down the bag of chips I'd been devouring. Obviously someone had spotted Matthew at the ER for me and now it was going to cause more doubt. More trouble I was responsible for.

My first thought was to tell Steven, but then I remembered, he'd started all of this in the first place. He was the last person I wanted to talk to at the moment. But, if I didn't have my brother, then I had no one. He was my only family, and really my only friend.

I was still furious with him and unsure if we could get past this. It wasn't just him going behind my back, breaking a promise I made, but the fact that he wasn't sorry. That he thought he was justified. It made me wonder what kind of person he was. And that scared me. We'd always been so in sync. So united by our plans and desires. Losing that felt like a death.

Disgusted, I turned off the television and pulled the covers over myself. I thought back to one of the many therapists I'd talked to as a kid. One of the only ones I hadn't hated completely. She'd been a tiny blonde with a booming, brash voice that was at odds with her appearance. She'd said, "Everyone needs to know that someone understands them. We all feel alone at times, Ellie. And in some ways, we always are. No one else can live inside your head, feel what you feel, and experience what you experience. But if we try hard, we can find someone who gets us. Who understands who we are and why. It's the most important thing, I think. More than love, more than family."