Always With You - Part Two (The Bad Boys #4.2)
Author: M. Leighton
CHAPTER ONE
Olivia
I am exhausted. After getting so pleasantly ravaged by Cash in an out-of-the-way bathroom, we curled up on a blue vinyl waiting room sofa for an hour. Little did I know, that was to be my very last few minutes of rest for the next forty-eight long hours.
When they finally let me in to see my father, he was calm for about ten minutes. After giving me the paternal smile that I love so much, he drifted off to sleep. When he woke up about another ten minutes later, a crazy person emerged. He was a maniac. Violent, combative and completely disoriented, it took three nurses to subdue him. His primary nurse had to call and get orders from the doctor to sedate him and, if that didn't work, to restrain him. When they managed to get him calmed down, his blood pressure started to drop and he developed some sort of abnormal heart rhythm, which created a whole other kind of chaos. While he did great during the surgery, the "after" part-the medication, the staff, the environment in general-doesn't agree with him at all.
Cash hasn't left either. He came back to see me several times. Against the rules, of course. Only one person at a time is allowed back in the rooms with patients, but no one was very interested in testing Cash's temper when he became adamant about checking on his wife.
My man, I think with a weary smile. It soothed my soul just to see his shadow darken the door and I know that if I were to go out to the waiting room, I'd find him out there legs spread, fingers laced over his stomach, slumped down in a chair with his head resting against the back. Waiting. Being nearby in case I needed him. I do need him, as much as I need my next breath, but he can't be in here right now. Just knowing he's out there, however, brings me more comfort than I ever would've thought possible. Still, we've both been here too long and only one of us needs to stay. Dad is stabilizing more and more with every hour that passes. There's no reason for Cash to stay.
I glance over at my father's thin face, at the frown still furrowing the pale skin between his brows, and I get up to go find my husband. He can't keep this up. One of us will have to be functioning and coherent when it's time to bring Dad home.
I lean over the bed and bend to kiss my dad's stubbly cheek before I tiptoe from the room. I stop by the nurse's station to let them know I'll be right back and I make my way through the double doors to the waiting room down the hall. As I expected, Cash is lounging blearily in one of the chairs. He rights himself and is on his feet within a heartbeat of seeing me walking toward him.
"What is it? Is something wrong? Did something happen?" he asks, rapid-fire, as he quickly approaches me. His big hands cup my shoulders as though he's ready to bring me against his chest at the first sign of distress. I can't help smiling.
"No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to tell you to go home. Get some rest. Now that Dad's doing a little better, they'll transfer him to a step-down unit pretty soon."
"I'm not leaving until you do," he says, his voice bearing that ring of finality it has when his mind can't be changed.
"Cash, I need you to do this. Dad can't go back to his house right away. At least not alone. And I'd prefer to have him here with me, in town, closer to the hospital. Can he stay with us at the condo for a few days?"
"God, Olivia! Why would you even ask me that? Of course he can. He's your father." I like that he seems insulted. I knew he'd say yes, but I'd never take advantage of his love for me by not even asking. It's his life, his time, his home, too.
"Because I love you. And I care about your feelings. That's why."
He makes a light growling sound and pulls me against his chest anyway. "Woman, you don't even have to ask. Anything you want … anything you need … if it's within my power to give it to you, it's yours. You know that."
I sigh into the clean scent of his skin and close my scratchy lids. "I know that."
"Good," he says, kissing the top of my head several times before easing me back. "So what can I do?"
"Go home. Get some rest. And maybe move that chair that sticks out right there at the door. I don't want there to be anything in his way when we bring him home."
"Done, done and done. But on one condition."
"What's that?"
"You go home and sleep first."
"I'll sleep in the room."
"Like you've been sleeping in the room? Which is not at all?"