#Hater (Hashtag #2) (27 page)

Zach was driving.

He looked even more sick and twisted with blood and bruises all over his face.

“Rimmel!” I yelled and stretched my arms out for her.

I couldn’t reach her, but it was all I could do. “Run!”

But she couldn’t run. Her feet were still tied together. She struggled with the clippers, sawing away at the rope.

Zach was coming fast.

But he lurched around her and our eyes locked.

He was coming for me.

I started to sit up, but it was too late. He stood and the mower jerked erratically as he snagged my hand and kept driving. The speed and pressure of the pull was too much for my muscles, and I felt myself slide right off the pole.

Zach let go of my hand and kept going, but the damage was already done.

I braced myself for the fall as the hard ground came rushing toward me.

Rimmel

It all happened so fast.

One moment, Romeo was climbing up the goal post and shimming over to me, and the next, I was hitting the ground, finally free from the ropes that bound me.

When Zach and his friends grabbed me, I fought and kicked as hard as I could. Until one of them hit me hard enough to knock me out.

When I woke, I was hanging from the post.

The fear I felt when I first realized where I was couldn’t be described. I imagined it would feel a lot like being dangled over a cliff.

I couldn’t even beg to be released because my mouth was gagged and bound.

I couldn’t even fathom that something like this would happen.

I got roses.

I expected a surprise.

I expected romance.

What I got was sheer horror.

Just when I thought the worst was over, I heard the revving of a small engine. Romeo was still hanging upside down from the pole, and I was lying there stunned. The next thing I knew, some crazy contraption driven by Zach came barreling toward us, and I watched helplessly as he stood on the thing and purposely grabbed Romeo and tugged him.

As Zach drove off, Romeo did a literal flip in the air and then landed with a hard slap on the field.

I screamed his name as I struggled with the clippers and finally freed my ankles from the rope. I surged up onto wobbly legs that tried to give out, but I wouldn’t let them. I rushed over to where he landed, and he rolled over with a grunt.

“Oh my God,” I cried and fell to my knees beside him.

“I’m okay,” he said and struggled to sit up.

I noticed he wrapped a hand around his middle.

“Where are you hurt?” I rushed out.

He didn’t get to answer because Zach had turned the mower around and was coming back at us.

Seriously. We were being attacked with a lawnmower.

If I wasn’t so scared, I’d laugh.

Romeo rushed forward and picked up the hose. He turned it on full blast and sprayed Zach right in the face. As he drove closer, the pressure of the water grew more intense, and he lost control and the thing swerved and crashed into the nearby pole.

Romeo pulled his cell out of his pants and handed it to me. “Call the cops.”

I called 9-1-1 as Romeo stalked forward to where Zach was slumped over in his seat. As soon as the operator answered, I launched into detail about where we were and what happened.

Well, as much as I could. I was pretty sure I was starting to babble as the shock of the night took full effect.

Zach was unconscious. His face was bruised and bloody and there was a gash on his head that was oozing blood. Romeo grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his limp body off the mower. Instead of dropping him, he held him up and plowed his fist into his face one last time.

“Motherfucker!” he spat and dropped him in a heap.

He glanced up at me. “Tell the operator we’re not waiting for the cops. We’re going to the hospital.”

I relayed the information, and she tried to talk me out of it. But Romeo took the phone and pressed the end button.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

“I’m okay,” I told him. “I don’t think any of my injuries are an emergency. We should wait for the cops.”

“You need to get looked at,” he said, gruff. “And so do I.” As he spoke, he wrapped his left arm across his body once more and rested his hand on his right arm.

“Romeo,” I gasped. “Where are you hurt?”

He grimaced.

“Is it your ribs?” I said, forgetting about everything that had happened and focusing solely on him.

“No,” he said and shifted. He looked up at me, his eyes grim and laced with pain. “My arm is broken.”

I sucked in a breath and looked down at him. He wasn’t holding his ribs. He was favoring his arm.

His right arm.

His throwing arm.

I blinked back the tears rushing into my eyes. He didn’t need tears right now.

He needed me to be strong, just like he’d just been when he helped me.

“Give me your car keys,” I said.

He looked at me like I had four heads.

“You can’t drive with a broken arm. Shifting will only hurt it worse.”

“Front pocket,” he said.

I grabbed them and we started walking again. I glanced at him every few seconds because I was so worried.

When the Hellcat finally came in sight, I clicked the automatic start and rushed to climb in. When he was in, I glanced at him again.

“I’m okay. This is nothing.”

I wondered if he really believed that.

I wondered if I did.

I nodded and looked down at the controls of the car. I wasn’t very good at driving a stick. I’d only had the one lesson.

And I was missing the books I needed to help me see.

But I didn’t say a word. Instead, I straightened up as tall as I could, adjusted the seat, and took a breath.

“Baby, please don’t wreck on the way to the hospital,” Romeo said.

I glanced at him and said with much more boldness than I felt, “I got this.”

And then I drove.

Romeo

Pain radiated along my entire right side. My arm ached and the ice they placed on it only seemed to make it worse.

I’d just come back from X-ray.

We wouldn’t know how bad the damage was until the radiologist looked at the images.

My arm was swollen, blotchy purple in some areas, and basically totally fucked up.

I’d just signed with the NFL.

Professional teams were making offers.

I was a quarterback.

I threw completed touchdown passes all day long. I had the best record in the state. My right arm was my ticket to the life I’d always dreamed of.

And now it was broken.

Everyone on staff here was solemn and morose around me, almost like I’d died. As soon as I walked in with Rimmel, they rushed me back. They tried to make her sit in the waiting room, but that only got people yelled at and me an elevated blood pressure.

She’d been fucking hanging from a pole. She was wet, cold, bruised, and battered. She was in worse shape than me, but they wanted to make her wait for treatment.

Hell to the no.

This was the first moment I’d been alone since I fell. Since I felt the bone in my arm snap, since I felt the stab of pain.

I knew immediately what it meant.

I understood my life as I knew it could be over.

What the fuck was I going to do?

My arm stung with the pressure of the ice, and I ripped it away and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a loud slap as the door to my room opened.

Rimmel peeked inside.

She still wasn’t wearing glasses because we didn’t know what happened to them.

“Hey,” she said quietly, hesitating in the doorway.

I held my arm out to her and she rushed inside. I folded her against me and she held her body stiffly so she didn’t cause me any pain.

“Shouldn’t you be with the doctor?” I asked.

“I snuck out of the room when they weren’t looking.”

I smiled. “Thanks for not tearing up my car on the way here,” I said, tucking a strand of damp hair behind her ear.

She was dressed in nothing but a hospital gown.

I sweet-talked my way out of one and was just wearing a pair of scrub bottoms and no shirt. I have no idea where the nurse found these pants, and I didn’t care. Gowns were for women.

“How bad is it?” she asked, her eyes filled with worry.

“Not sure yet.”

She cupped her hand around my jaw. “It’s gonna be okay. I know it.”

“Yeah?” I asked, pain lancing through my chest. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re number twenty-four. You have
epic mojo
.”

“I signed with the NFL last week. There are offers on the table from two pro teams.”

She gasped and excitement filled her eyes. I loved that look. It was so much better than the morose glances I’d been getting since I got here. “Romeo! That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because what’s going on with you is more important.”

She took my face and forced my head down so she could look into my eyes. “I am never more important than you are.
You’re everything.
”

“Kiss me,” I demanded.

She did as she was told. When she was done, she sank back onto the balls of her feet. “Your dream is still right here. Your arm might be broken now, but it’s gonna be fixed and you’re going to play better than ever.”

I finally said out loud what no one—not even me—wanted to hear. “What if it’s not?”

“I don’t believe that. Not for a second.” She glanced at my battered arm and back up at me. “But if that’s what happens, then something else just as amazing is going to happen for you. And I’ll still love you. No matter what.”

“I love you, Rim.”

“I know you do. I just wish you hadn’t gotten hurt like this because of me.”

I started to reply, but the door opened once more. Two nurses came in with disgruntled looks on their faces. “There she is,” the blond one said.

Rimmel grimaced.

“You can’t be leaving your cubicle, miss.” The dark-headed nurse scolded her.

“Ladies,” I said and turned up the charm. “You’ll have to forgive her. I was whining like a big baby and begged her to stay in here with me.”

“That’s the football player,” the blonde whispered. Rimmel stiffened.

“Maybe she could just take that bed right there.” I pointed to the one beside me. “That way we could all be in the same room, and I’ll have more than one nurse to help me if I need it.”

Rimmel sighed when they agreed immediately and rushed to get her chart and other supplies for the room. “Seriously? Do all women have to fall over themselves for you?”

“I wanted you in here,” I said.

Her eyes softened.

The door opened again and my parents came rushing in.

“What the hell happened?” my father boomed. For once, his smooth feathers were ruffled.

Mom rushed to my side with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Roman.”

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just a broken bone. I’ll live.”

“Your arm,” Dad said. I knew he was thinking about my career.

“We’re still waiting for word on the break,” I said. “Besides, Rim had it worse than me.”

“Rimmel.” My father came forward and put an arm around her. “The nurse told us about your ordeal. I’m so sorry. I thought the restraining order would keep him away.”

“We all did,” she replied and leaned into him a little. Her eyes slid to my mother, with a little bit of expectation in them.

Mom didn’t even look her way.

In fact, it was like she was making an effort to
not
look at Rimmel.

What the hell is going on now?

“Shouldn’t they be putting a cast on this by now?” Mom worried.

“I think they’re waiting for the X-ray results,” I said and glanced over at Rimmel. She had straightened away from my father and was looking a little lost standing there.

Clearly, my mother’s rebuke had hurt her.

I really wasn’t in the mood for this.

“Dad, would you mind going to see if the radiologist is done reading the results? I’m anxious to know—”

“Of course, son. I’ll go see what I can find out.”

On his way out, Rimmel’s nurse came rushing in and demanded she get in bed. She bustled her off to her side of the room and pulled the curtain between us so she could check the rope burns Rimmel suffered around her midsection.

I almost demanded she leave the curtain open so I could see the damage, but I wanted this moment with Mom because I knew we wouldn’t get this chance again anytime soon.

I pinned her with a hard look. She stared back.

“What the hell was that about?” I growled low.

“What?”

“Don’t play games. I’m sitting in the hospital. My arm is busted, my girl is battered, and my career might be over. Why the hell did you snub her that way, especially after she’s made such an effort to let you in?”

“I got a call from the PI I hired today.”

“What the fuck, Mom? I thought you were done with that bullshit.”

She didn’t even scold me for my language. That’s when I knew I wasn’t going to like this.

“I was. But something came back and he thought I would want to know.”

“What?”

“Her father is in debt up to his eyeballs. Apparently, he has a massive gambling problem.”

I shook my head. “That’s it?”

“That’s not enough to prove she’s after you for your money?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“No,” I said, hard. “I’m only gonna say this once. Stop digging around in Rimmel’s past and her family. You could find out that her entire family is full of murderers and I would still love her.”

“Funny you should say that,” Mom said. “Because it appears her father is the one who killed her mother.”

An audible gasp filled the room. The curtain between the beds was shoved back and Rimmel stood there looking white as a ghost, her mouth wide open.

“How dare you?” she said. Her eyes were cold and hard as she stared at Mom.

“Rimmel…” I started, worried that after everything that happened, this would send her over the edge.

She stalked forward, intent on my mother. “How dare you come in here while your son is suffering like this to hurl unfounded and untrue accusations around?”

“They are not unfounded. Your father is a gambling addict. He was in debt years ago, so severely that his life was threatened. When he was unable to pay what he owed, the men he borrowed from took it back. In blood. Your mother’s blood.”

Rimmel swayed on her feet.

“Get out,” I growled. “Get the hell out of this room and stay out!”

“Roman,” Mom said, her voice shocked.

I turned away from her and held out my good arm to Rimmel. She rushed into it with a cry. I looked at my mother with hard, cold eyes over her head.

Seeing that she made a huge mistake, she backed away. I stared her down until she was gone.

Then I turned my eyes toward the nurse who was lurking behind the curtain by Rimmel’s bed.

She jumped and rushed from the room.

My arm was screaming, and I wondered what my dad was learning.

“Rim,” I said gently.

She lifted her head from my chest. “It’s not true.”

“I know,” I murmured and hugged her close again. Yet… I couldn’t believe my mother would say all of that if she didn’t have the proof to back it up.

But that didn’t excuse the way she delivered the news.

We had so many problems right now, so much hate shoveled our way, and now was not the time for more.

Rimmel’s thoughts seemed to mirror my own. She pulled back to say, “What are we going to do, Romeo?”

Up until this point, I’d been sitting on the end of my bed, my feet on the floor. I let go of her now and moved up on the bed. Gingerly, I leaned back against the pillows and let out a sigh. Then I lifted my left arm and invited her beside me.

She climbed onto the bed, trying not to jostle me, and fitted herself against my side.

“We’re gonna deal with it. All of it. One thing at a time. And we’re going to do it together,” I told her.

She rested her cheek against me and sighed.

After a while, her whisper floated through the room. “What if what your mom said is true?”

I whispered my answer. “What if my NFL career is over?”

Rimmel tilted back her head and gazed up at me. “We’ll still have each other, right?”

“Always,” I vowed.

I just prayed to God each other wasn’t all we would have left when all the hate settled.