Authors: Shiloh Walker
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Romance Suspense
The Missing (37 page)
He was out of the chair so damn fast, he tripped over his feet and ended up on his knees beside the bed. Apt enough, since she’d been knocking him to his knees on a regular basis for a good, long time. He reached out, folding her cold hand between his. She wasn’t as cold . . . was she?
She whispered again, her lips forming the same words, and finally, he understood what she was saying: “I love you.”
“Taige?”
Her lids flickered. A faint smile curved her lips. And between his hands, hers moved, her fingers sliding between his. She squeezed, oh so faintly. And then, a soft sigh escaped. She fell silent, as though that simple movement had drained her.
But for the first time since she’d been hurt, Cullen breathed just a little easier.
TWELVE
A WEEK after that, seven days after she’d roused from her coma and smiled at Cullen, they finally let her leave the hospital. She didn’t remember smiling at him, talking to him or the doctors, the nurses, Dez. Nothing, not until a day or two later when she fully woke up.
Taige did remember the dream, though. Just like most of her dreams with Cullen, it had been almost painfully real. But it hadn’t been bittersweet. No, that dream had been different.
It had left her hopeful.
Hope wasn’t something she had wasted a lot of time on over the past few years, and letting herself feel it now was more than a little bit terrifying. Fortunately, the drugs clouding her brain, the pain that managed to bleed through those painkillers, and her very overpowering desire to put some miles between herself and the hospital all combined to keep her from dwelling on much of anything else for too long.
Right now, the only thing Taige really needed to dwell on was the art of breathing. Since waking in agony to find tubes shoved in her chest, she realized that breathing was a lot more complicated than the typical person realized.
The window was down. It was hotter than hell outside, but she needed the feel of the air on her face, the wind moving through her hair. Cullen sat next to her, speeding down Highway 180. It didn’t seem like he could go more than a minute without glancing over at her. “Are you okay?” he asked. It was only the tenth time he’d asked since they’d pulled out of the hospital parking lot. And that was a huge improvement over the first day or two after she woke up. Then she hadn’t been able to take a breath or blink without him asking.
But she didn’t mind.
She was awake for him to ask, right?
But Taige did sincerely hope that he wouldn’t still be asking her that every ten minutes or so for too much longer. Of course, it would be easier to lie to him if she could move without hurting, if she could breathe without hurting. She’d always healed pretty fast, but she’d never been hurt this badly before.
With all her heart, Taige hoped she wasn’t ever hurt this badly again. The stitches in her chest itched, her muscles hurt, her bones, breathing. Just breathing took some effort right now. She had to concentrate and make sure she didn’t breathe too deeply, because if she took regular breaths, it hurt. Yeah, it was an art, trying to breathe just deeply enough that she managed to get enough air, but not so deeply that she made those abused muscles and healing tissues and bones ache.
Logically, she knew she shouldn’t have left the hospital yet. They’d only been able to take the chest tubes out a few days ago, and the lung specialist wasn’t too thrilled with her lung function either. The fact that they had let her leave the hospital was nothing short of a miracle.
The doctors hadn’t wanted to let her go, but she’d made up her mind that she wasn’t going to stay in that damn hospital another day. Even if she had to walk out on her own two feet. So what if she collapsed before she made it to the parking lot?
Fortunately, Cullen had offered a compromise. She could leave the hospital, go home, and a private duty nurse would visit her twice a day for the first few days. Cullen had said he’d be staying with her. It wasn’t like she’d be alone, and she’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable if she was some place—okay, any place—other than the hospital.
She wanted to go home, and if that meant promising to eat three square meals a day that included lots of leafy green stuff, chugging down sixty-four ounces of water, and popping vitamins, then she’d do it. So long as she got to go home.
Then Cullen drove right past her house. She glanced at the gravel drive that disappeared into the trees and then back at him. “Cullen . . .”
But before she could ask where they were going, he did turn.
Her heart skipped a beat or two and, forgetting herself, she gasped. Once she’d recovered from the pain that caused, she blinked through her tears and stared at the house in front of her.
It had been on the market for nearly two years. It was beautiful, custom-built from the ground up, and the price tag was a little high. But the For Sale sign was missing from the little patch of grass by the mailbox. “What are we doing here?”
He glanced at her. “I bought it.”
“You bought it.”
He slid her another glance and then looked away. Nervous. Cullen was nervous. There was no mistaking that look. “You bought it.”
No response.
“Why?”
His eyes narrowed. “Because your house doesn’t have room for me and Jillian, and I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight for a while. If you don’t like it, too bad.”
“Exactly how long is a while?”
For a minute, he didn’t answer, and she started to think he was ignoring her . . . or maybe he hadn’t heard her. But then, in a quiet voice, he said, “The rest of my life sounds pretty good to me.”
The sheer, intense emotion in his voice was enough to have her eyes start to burn from tears, her throat go all tight, and her heart swell. Unsure of how to respond to that, Taige didn’t respond at all.
They pulled to a stop in front of the house, and for a minute, they just sat there staring at it. The walls were stone, giving it an old-world look, and there were a lot of windows—really big windows—sparkling in the early morning sun. The door was painted a bright red, and as they watched, it opened, and a small girl came barreling through, running down the steps with a huge smile on her pretty little face.
For a second, Taige almost didn’t recognize her.
She hadn’t ever seen that girl with a smile on her face. Not once. In reality, Taige knew she’d only physically seen the girl twice. Once when they’d found her in the cabin and then once in the hospital while the girl was in a drug-induced sleep. In all the dreams, all of the weird little visions that had come to Taige over the past twelve years, Jillian Morgan never smiled in them. Not even once. Of course, Jillian hadn’t had many reasons to smile during those visions. In truth, no reason.
There was no logic to life, Taige knew. There was no logical way Taige could have dreamed about this girl before she even existed. No way she could have spent so many years searching for a girl who hadn’t needed Taige until less than a month ago. Logic had no place in this mess because, as improbable as it all was, it was real. It had all happened.
Cullen glanced at Taige, and she forced a smile. “Go on. I’m fine.” God knows, he’d spent so much time at Taige’s side over the past few weeks, and that pretty little girl must have missed him something awful. He climbed out of the car and caught up with Jillian just as she reached the driveway. Taige watched as Cullen threw Jillian up into the air and then caught her close in a hug. Tears misted her eyes as she saw the two of them together.
Jillian smiled down at her dad and brought her hands up, cupping his face between them and then leaning down to kiss him. There were no words between them, but there was a love so deep, so strong that Taige guessed the father and daughter really didn’t need words.
Then Jilly turned her head and looked into the truck. Her eyes landed on Taige’s face, and her smile faded away.
A fist wrapped around Taige’s heart. The poor baby. She’d gone through ten different kinds of hell, and seeing Taige was going to remind her of that. This wasn’t going to work. Yeah, she needed somebody with her for a few days because she wasn’t sure she could walk from a bed to a toilet without help, but she’d call Dez. Dez would come and probably be grateful for a break.
Jillian squirmed in Cullen’s arms, and he put the girl down. Taige figured Jillian wanted to go inside, get away from her and all the memories that Taige’s presence had to bring back. But instead, she walked up and climbed through Cullen’s open door, onto the leather seat, until she could crouch on the console like a little cat. “You still look sick,” Jillian said with the brutal, frank honesty of a child.
Forcing herself to smile, Taige said, “I’ll be fine.” An awkward silence started to spread between them, and desperate to keep that from happening, Taige asked softly, “How are you doing?”
Jillian grinned. “I’m great. We got a beach. A real beach. And it’s
ours
.” She cocked her head, and the fat, inky curls fell over one thin shoulder. “You like the beach?”
ours
.” She cocked her head, and the fat, inky curls fell over one thin shoulder. “You like the beach?”
“I love the beach. I live on the beach, too.” Her gaze slid to the huge, sprawling house, and she added wryly, “But I doubt it’s as big as your beach is.”
“Can you swim?”
“Like a fish.”
“Can you teach me?”
Taige glanced at Cullen as he approached, staring at Jillian and Taige with intense eyes. Her heart pounded in her throat as she forced the words out. “We’ll have to see.” She was a little floored that Jillian even wanted to speak with her.
That thought had barely formed in her head when Jillian leaned a little closer and whispered, “Of course I wanna talk to you. You’re my friend.” She smiled sweetly and reached up, laid a hand on Taige’s face. “I’d miss not talking to you.”
Now Taige couldn’t speak. She couldn’t force the words, and it took several tries and a couple of deep breaths before she managed it. “You remember talking to me?”
Jillian rolled her eyes, and for a minute she looked exactly like what she should be: a child just hovering on the stage of prepubescence, convinced she knew every bit as much as any adult ever could. “Of course I remember talking to you.” Then she glanced back at her dad. “I think you’re going to have to make her get out of the car. She’s scared.”
With that, she pulled back and took off running back up the driveway.
Hardly able to speak around the knot in her throat, Taige murmured, “She shouldn’t have to see me, Cullen. It can’t be good for her.”
He didn’t respond at first as he circled the truck and opened the door for her. He slid a hand under her legs, helping her shift her lower body around, and then he cupped his hands on her hips. But instead of helping her slide to the ground, he stood there, holding her just like that as he said, “You’re wrong.” He glanced at the house and murmured, “Jillian’s a serious kid. She always has been. She almost never smiles, and she hardly ever talks to anybody unless they talk to her first. She smiled at you; she talked to you. She said you’re her friend.”
Taige shook her head. “She doesn’t even know me, Cullen. Hell, she’s just a kid.”
“Yeah, but she’s my kid, and I know her.” He dipped his head, putting his face on a level with hers. “You know why I brought you here. You know why I bought this house. You know what I want, and I don’t even have to explain it. I will, because we need to put things out on the table and talk them through. But if you’re nervous about that, don’t use Jilly as a reason to pull away from me.”
The smile wobbled on her lips, and she just barely managed a whisper as she said, “You’re awful damn cocky.”
“No.” He shook his head, still staring at her with intense, serious eyes. “I’m just determined. There’s a difference.” He glanced at the house once more and then back at her. “You know what I want, Taige. I’m not giving up on us. But if you want distance, this is your one chance. You come in that house with me, and it’s settled as far as I’m concerned. You’re mine. I won’t let you go. Not ever.”
Amused despite herself, she grinned at him. “Is this what you call laying it out on the table?”
He grinned back and brushed her hair away from her face. “Well, I’d planned on waiting awhile, seeing as you’re supposed to be resting and recovering, but then you started looking skittish on me.”
She lifted a brow. “I got skittish?”
His hands smoothed down her hips. Through the loose cotton of her pants, she could feel the heat of his hands. An answering heat flickered inside, and she dropped her gaze to stare at his mouth. It felt like it had been ages since he’d kissed her. Ages since he’d held her.
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