Tempting Rowan (Trace + Olivia #3) (32 page)

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

Hours later, with no sleep, a doctor finally appeared in the doorway.

“He’s awake now…if you’d like to see him.”

The hesitation his voice destroyed what hope was left inside me. His tone said,
you might want to say your goodbyes now
.

“Mom and I will go first,” Trace whispered, grasping the chair arms and using it to heave himself to his feet. He stretched his arms above his head, cracking his back.
He reached for his mom, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they followed the doctor.

Tristan crawled into my lap, burrowing his head under my neck.
“What’s going on, mommy?” He asked, lovingly stroking my hair. Even at five years old he could sense the tension in my body and was trying to relieve it.

“Trent—your dad—has been hurt,” I whispered. It pained me to say those words.

“Is he going to be okay? Can I say hi?” Tristan looked up at me with wide eyes.

“I don’t know,” I answered, kissing the top of his head, his hair soft against my lips.

I wrapped my arms tightly around him, closing my eyes as I rested my head on top of his. All my regrets were piling on top of me in this moment and I felt like I was suffocating. Because of what I had done, Trent had missed out on being a part of Tristan’s life, and now Tristan might never get to know his dad.

I had been horrible and selfish to make the decision I did without telling Trent. I had been so young and stupid. Now, I was suffering the consequences.

I
should have been the one in there fighting for my life, not Trent.

I didn’t want to lose
him.

Even if he didn’t belong to me, and I’d have to watch him love someone else eventually, I’d rather deal with that pain
than this.

I hummed under my breath, rocking Tristan in my arms.

Tristan took a piece of my hair and twisted it around his finger. “It will be okay, mommy,” he whispered in his sweet voice.

“I hope so.” I felt tears sting my eyes once more. I didn’t know how someone could keep crying like this. Eventually you had to run out of tears, right?

Trace and his mom returned ten minutes later, their faces pale.

“He wants to talk to you,” Trace said, his eyes refusing to meet mine.

My stomach rolled with nausea once more.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Tristan, lifting him off my lap. He went scampering up to Trace, asking him a bunch of questions. “Tristan,” I warned, “leave Uncle Trace alone right now. He’s upset. Maybe you could give him a hug and make him feel better?” I suggested, knowing Tristan would like it if I gave him a task to perform.

Tristan nodded, wrapping his arms around Trace’s legs. Trace reached down and picked him up, and his cries pained me.

I wasn’t sure I could do this.

If Trace was breaking down like this, things didn’t bode well for me.

The doctor was waiting to lead me back. His face was grim, so I let my eyes follow the lines of the tile as he took me to Trent.

He opened a door and nodded his head for me to go inside.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. I knew that once I got a look at Trent—at what was my fault—what was left of me would finally shatter completely.

I was that broken vase that kept being fixed in vain, only to topple off the table and break again. Eventually, the pieces grew too small to fit back together.

I took one step further into the room, then another, until I stood beside Trent’s bed.

His eyes were closed and his skin was a sickish gray color. Where the front o
f his hospital gown dipped down I saw a white bandage over his heart.

I bit down on my fist to stifle my sobs.

This was my fault.

All because of my stupid step-dad, I was going to lose the love of my life.

My body was so full of hate at that man, and myself, that I thought it might obliterate me.

Trent’s eyes slowly blinked open and I wrapped my arms around myself so that I didn’t try to touch him. He wasn’t mine and I knew the last thing he wanted was for me to be here.

“Don’t.” He swallowed, wincing at the dryness in his throat. “Cry.”

“I can’t help it,” I wiped the tears away, looking out the windows where the sun was beginning to come up.
It pained me to see him lying there so…battered. Trent had always been full of life, and seeing that stripped away from him was heartbreaking. I had done nothing but ruin his life from the moment I entered it. He would’ve been better off if he’d never met me.

“L-look at me,” he stuttered.

Unable to deny him his request, I did.

We stared at each other, neither of us saying a word.

“Come. Here.” He forced the words out, trying to scoot over to give me room in the bed.

“No,” I grabbed his hand. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

His eyes closed with tiredness and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed painfully. It tore me apart to see him hurt so badly. I felt so helpless. I had no idea what to do or say to make any of this better.

“I’m an idiot,” he forced the words out.

“Because you got shot? Yeah, you’re an idiot,” I made myself laugh to lighten the situation.

“No,” he shook his head, wincing in pain, “for letting you go.”

My breath caught and I didn’t know what to say.

“I should’ve gone after you that day.” His forehead wrinkled with effort as he spoke.

“Trent,” I pleaded, “don’t talk. Please, don’t strain yourself.”

“I need to say this,” he continued, his light blue eyes connecting with mine. They seemed so alert and alive—not like he was fighting for his life. He stared up at me and I couldn’t help but feel like he was making some deathbed confession. “I love you, Rowan,” he wet his lips. “I’ve tried so hard to hate you, but I can’t. I fucking can’t. Every time I close my eyes I see
you
,” his hand gave mine a light squeeze, and it didn’t escape me how weak his grasp was. “I see our son. I see the life we could have together. You’re it for me, Row. I know we have a shit ton of problems to work out, but that’s okay. We’re a family.”

“Trenton,” I shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes, “you don’t mean that. It’s only the drugs
talking.” I knew he had to be on some major painkillers and they’d clearly made him loopy.

“It’s not—” he winc
ed in pain. “It’s not the drugs. I was coming to see you tonight, but um,” he looked down at his chest and the bandage winking at us. “I kinda got shot.”

Only Trenton
could crack jokes after a gunshot wound.

“Are you sure?” I whispered, daring to hope that he loved me enough that we could move past this, and letting myself believe he was going to be fine.

He nodded. “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen and nothing can ever make me stop. Once you stole my heart, it belonged to you and only you.”

“You’re such a cheese ball,”
I cracked a smile—a genuine one as I remembered saying something similar to him months ago.

“That’s me, I like cheese,” he joked
, smiling half-heartedly. “Now,” he started sliding over, “since I got shot protecting your honor and all, I think you owe me.”

“I’m not having sex with you in a hospital,” I gasped, appalled that he’d suggest such a thing after everything he’d been through.
“Especially after you just had surgery! You’re not in the clear yet, Trent,” my voice cracked painfully.

He rolled his eyes at me. “Who said anything about sex, Row? I’m tired, but I don’t want you to go. Lay with me, please,” he begged, and
when he looked at me like that I was unable to resist the temptation.

I climbed into bed beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. I kept waiting for one of the nurses to bust in here and make me leave, but no one came.

He reached over, wincing with the effort, and placed his hand on my stomach. I was about to ask him what he was doing when those pretty baby blues lifted to meet my gaze. “I should have been there for you. I should’ve been able to see my child grow inside you and take care of both of you.” A sadness lingered in his eyes at what he had missed out on.

“I know,”
I squeaked.

“
I understand why you did it,” his eyes never wavered from mine, “and I’m ready to forgive you. I’m ready to move past this.”

I nodded.
I wanted nothing more than that, but I was afraid tomorrow might never come for us. He was lying here
dying
. I knew he was a fighter, though, so I had to believe he’d pull through this for me—for our family.

“Why the hell did you go after my step-dad, Trent?” I questioned, staring up at the crinkled white ceiling. Everything in here was white and sterile.

Trent coughed, his breath wheezing with effort. “I-I saw him touch you,” he admitted, slowly turning his head to look at me. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t seem to stop looking at the ceiling. “He’s a fucking p-piece of shit and I wasn’t going to l-let him get away with that,” his words ended with another strangled cough.

I made myself look at him then, my brow furrowing with worry. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, his hand over his mouth as he stifled the cough.

“Do you know what ha
ppened to my step-dad?” I asked softly, reaching over to stroke his cheek. His eyes closed in response and he made a pleased humming noise in the back of his throat. “Did the police get him? He’s not on the loose is he?”

“After he shot me he took off running
and that’s the last thing I remember,” Trent said sleepily. “Don’t worry, though. Trace will take care of everything.”

“Yeah,” I yawned,
feeling sleepy too as the days events caught up with me, “he’s good like that.”

“Should I be worried
you’re falling for my brother?” Trent’s lips brushed against my forehead. “You know he’s married.”

I laughed. “No,” I kissed his cheek, “there’s on
ly one Wentworth brother for me and he’s right here.”

“Goo
d,” Trent murmured. “I love you.”

“I love you
, Trent,” I whispered, kissing his jaw. “Thank you for teaching me that love isn’t a myth. It’s real and we have it.”

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I was awakened by a shrill noise. It pierced my eardrums, making me flinch. What the heck was that?

I sat up, blinking sleep from my eyes as the bland hospital room came into view.

The doors to the room burst open and someone pulled me from the bed.

“He’s flat lining!” Was all I heard as doctors and nurses bustled about in a flurry of activity.

I stared in horror at the lifeless body lying in the bed.

My hand came up to cover my mouth as sobs raked my body.

“Trent!” I screamed as a nurse tried to pull me out of the room. “Trent!” I screamed his name over and over again—at least it felt like it. “Come back to me! Trenton! Please! You can’t leave me!
Trent!
”

But the line stayed flat.

The nurse shoved me out the door and slammed it in my face.

I pounded on the small glass window in the door, which was covered in black paper so that no one could see in
. I continued to shout his name until I lost my voice and felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Eventually
I left, unable to stay there and continue to hear the high-pitched shriek of his heart not beating.

I didn’t quite make it back to the waiting room. I guess my feet decided to stop working. I sunk to the ground, my back against the wall. My wails filled the halls. I didn’t care who heard me or who saw me. I couldn’t stop them. I needed to let it all out. I couldn’t keep this pain bottled inside me as I was tormented with one thought…

Everyone leaves me.

I pulled at my hair, kicking my feet against the floor.

My cries began to draw attention.

I saw Trace come out of the waiting room to investigate the noise, and when his
eyes landed on me his mouth fell open in horror.

I shook my head, my throat clogged with tears, to tell him that Trent hadn’t made it.

Tears streamed from his eyes as he shoved his fingers through his hair, making it stick up wildly around his head.

He looked back at the waiting room and then at me.

I watched as he walked a little ways down that hall from me. He reared his hand back and it shot forward, punching the wall repeatedly. His anger and sadness was palpable. A male nurse came running towards him and restrained Trace so he couldn’t do any more damage to his hand. They led him away—no doubt to clean it up, and maybe even stitch the wound closed.

It made me think of the injury to my hand on New Year’s Eve—when Trent had so tenderly taken care of me. It had been our last night together. It was sweet and perfect and over far too soon. Here we were four months
later. He’d found out the truth and now he was dead.