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Chapter Thirty-two
Amir
Iplayedthemessageonce again through the speaker in my car.
“Amir, this is your mother. If you would like Julien to continue under my care, I can’t stress enough that I will not tolerate any more scenes. As if Rahim accosting me while I attempted to care for my patient wasn’t insulting enough, Julien’s little loudmouthed girlfriend seemed to think her opinion of me was something I needed to know. Keep Rahim and the brunette out of my sight and I’ll continue acting as Julien’s physician. If I see either of them again, he’ll have to find a new doctor.”
I was fucking seething. First, because getting bitched out by my mother via voicemail, when the only reason she even had my number was because I was Julien’s emergency contact, was not how I’d wanted to start my day. Second, and maybe the bigger reason I careened into the hospital parking lot, parked my truck between two spaces, and stormed up to Julien’s room, was because of the troublemaking brunette. Vanessa was the only person it could possibly be. I wasnoton board with her being the cause of my mother bitching me out, and she shouldn’t have been visiting Julien without supervision. Even then, I didn’t want her skeevy ass close to him.
The ride up the elevator gave me a minute to cool off. Julien didn’t need me exploding and losing my visiting privileges. And my mother, as much as I despised her, was one of the best plastic surgeons in California. There was no way I would chance her walking away from Julien’s case. Not when it was my fault he was in that bed in the first place.
It was early. His room was quiet and dim when I pushed in. He was fast asleep in his bed, his chest rising and falling at a steady rhythm.
He wasn’t alone in his room. Beside his bed, a woman was sleeping. She was sitting in one of the hospital chairs, her head slumped forward, resting on his mattress. Long, dark hair spilled around her onto the white sheets.
Their hands were joined.
How sweet.
I rounded the bed, pried her hand off his, gripped her bicep, and yanked her out of the chair.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I seethed.
She stumbled into my chest, and out of pure instinct, I caught her to stop her from going down. Once I had her in my arms, my mistake blared. It had been three weeks since I’d touched Zadie, but the feel of her was ingrained so deeply in my mind, there was no erasing it.
“Amir.” She steadied herself on my chest. “I’m…oh no, I fell asleep.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” It came out harsher than intended, but I was losing my mind looking at her sleepy eyes, the crease on her cheek from where it had been pressed on Julien’s sheet, her plump lips pursed into anO, and just about everything that was Zadie Night.
“I’m going.” She shoved against me, wiggling her arms in my grip.
Shock had me dropping my hold on her when she pushed away. She stumbled backward, shoving her curls out of her face, then bent down, grabbed her bag, and ran out of the room. I would have run after her, but I didn’t know what to say. My anger was overriding my ability to think.
Knees giving out, I sank down in the seat Zadie had just vacated. It was still warm from her, and I leaned into it, soaking it up like it was a part of her—that was how desperate I had become.
Julien turned toward me, glaring. “What did you do?” he croaked.
I poured him a cup of water from the jug on the nightstand. He drank from the straw until the cup was empty.
“What did you do to Zadie?” he repeated.
“What was she doing here?”
He reared back as much as he could while lying down. “She’s always here. Every night I’ve been here, Zadie’s been here.”
That couldn’t be right. I’d know if Zadie had been here. I knew Marco had texted her. Watched him do it over his shoulder. But she never showed. She hadn’t been here. The disappointment stacked in my belly like logs on a fire had been the thing that had kept me going. If I could be disappointed and pissed off at her, I didn’t have to remember the look of agony she’d given me at the fight.
“How would you even know? You’ve been in a coma.” I rapped my knuckles on his bed rails. “You’ve been dreaming about her?”
“I’ve been listening to her talk to me and keep Marco company night after night. So yeah, she’s been here.”
“She’s been coming…at night?” When I wasn’t here. When it was only Marco. Fuck, that hurt worse than my shattered rib.
“Yeah.” He gave me a sorry attempt of a grin. Thank Christ he was on heavy pain meds. His face had been half torn off, his leg crushed. If he hadn’t been doped up, there was no way he’d be smiling. “She couldn’t stay away from me. My Princess Z.”
It was pretty obvious I wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of him. I took out my phone to text Marco but Julien stopped me in my tracks.
“I got to witness the most epic takedown. Zadie told off Doctor Abadir when she tried to warn Zadie away from you. Dude, I wish I’d had a phone to record it, but they don’t even let me have underwear up in this place.”
