Never Been Kissed: A Never Been Novel (4 page)

I slam the brakes, haul up the emergency brake in case someone decides to tow us before I get Hunter’s ass fully in and registered in Emergency. Turning, I see Matty trying to undo his million and two straps surrounding his little body. I turn off the car, grab my purse, and haul ass to his side of the car.

My hands shake as I try to get the snaps undone, helping him as much as I can. When he’s free, he keeps a hold of the back of my shirt as I get Hunter’s passenger door open. I heave Hunt’s legs out, pulling my back, and have to smack his face a few times to get him awake and lucid. I don’t think he sees me, but I’m hoping his body is on automatic enough to listen.

“Ma’am you can’t park here-” A security guard has Hunter’s door in hand ready to close it on his feet.

“Does he look okay to YOU?” I yell, pulling on Hunter’s arms to get him out of the way. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him! Do something useful and get him a wheelchair! Get him inside!”I screech, sounding like a lunatic. I don’t care. Now’s not the time for stupid questions and dumb rules.

The guard gets high up on his authority horse, puffing out his chest.

“Look, there’s something wrong with him. Get me a wheelchair. W
e need to get him inside. NOW.”

Tweedle-Dee stares at me long and hard. Long enough to make a point. Long enough to waste time and for Matty to lose it.

“My Daddy is SICK! HELP HIM!” Matty howls, winding his fists into the back of my shirt. The hideous sound that comes out his mouth makes me want to cover my ears, and hide in a corner.

“Help me get him out. Hurry!” I
yell.

It takes three orderlies to get Hunter out of the car. Three of them to bark questions at me that I don’t have the answers to.

Matty trembles beside me, tears leaving shining tracks down his cheeks. I don’t know what to tell him; I don’t know what I
can
say. When my blank face doesn’t give the nurses any answers, Matty pipes up: “Insulin-dependent diabetic.”

These words work like magic. Nurses start yelling at one another, orderlies rearrange Hunter’s limbs quicker on the chair. There’s a fire underneath their asses, that fire is knowledge.
They know how to help him. Why didn’t I think of that? I could’ve just checked his sugar, and given him what he needed. It’s not like I didn’t know what to do, my Mom’s a diabetic.

My knees threaten to buckle as the could-have-beens crash over me. Adrenaline has left my body and I have the shakes. I see the security guard that reamed me out before come stomping my way. I shake my head at him, teeth chattering,
body quivering.

God. Hunter could have died
.
What about Matty? What would have happened to him? And I wanted to run away, hide in my apartment. Fuck. What a coward. I disgust myself. And all the shit that my family’s ever said about me – about being useless, a coward, fat and disgusting. I nearly proved them right today.

I look down at Matty. His dark hair and bright blue eyes stare deep into mine like he understands all the crazy thoughts in my brain. Hell, maybe he does. Is that why he asked if Hunter was tired? Is that a code word f
or a sugar-low or -high?

He
looks up at me, grabs a hold of my hand. “My Daddy’s gonna be okay. He always says so.” For his sake, I hope Hunter wasn’t lying. He has to be okay, if only for me to kick his giant sexy ass and kill him.

I nod at Matty, sniff back a wad of snot. I wipe my cheeks hard enough
to make them smart, and get him in the car. I do as the security guard told me to do. I get out of the emergency drive-up reserved for ambulances and get a space, stuffing the slip in my purse.

Matty slips his hand in mine, giving my fingers a squeeze when I should be the one doing the comforting. With some sort of sick conv
iction, I end up believing the kid. Hunter’s going to be okay; he’s going to be okay.

***

“YOU!” I jump in my seat in the waiting room, dislodging Matty from my chest. The little guy wakes up with a sleepy snuffle, and a jaw-cracking yawn. A lady gets up in my face, invading my personal bubble with a stench of Burberry perfume, those huge Chanel glasses that make girls look like bugs, and a Louis Vuitton bag tucked in the corner of her elbow. She’s a walking advertisement for the size of her wallet.

“You little
harlot!
What have you done to my boy?” If the glasses weren’t covering half her face, I could probably tell that Hunter’s her son.

“And why are you holding my grandson? Give him to me!”
Her she-claws are painted in papaya or some wacky color name like that, extended out like talons when her hands try to snake around Matty’s ribcage.

I’m struck dumb. I don’t know what to say or do.

“Grandmaaaaaaaa!” Matty whines, wiggling out of her grasp while throwing his arms around my neck, choking off my oxygen supply.
The kid has chosen, lady
. “Sera isn’t Daddy’s girl
friend
,” Matty informs his grandmother. “She’s Wendy.”

“I’m Wendy?” I ask.

“She’s Wendy?” Grandma asks, those giants glasses of hers slipping down her nose. I want to laugh at her comments. Me? A slut? Lady, if only you knew.

Matty squeezes my neck tighter and puts his head on my shoulder, dismissing his grandmother.
He falls asleep within a minute, his body going lax, his breathing fading out to slow and calm. I look up at his grandmother, too tired to deal with her bullshit.

“Hunter’s still in the monitored care section of the emergency. You can go see if he’s awake, if you like.” There. Olive branch. “He wa
s asleep last time we checked.”

“How did you find him? Where did you find him?” The words are shot off like bullets from an automatic gun. I’m too tired for this. The loss of adrenaline has left me weak and starving. So I answer, thinking this is the best
way to ditch her when I’m done.

“I came home from grocery shopping. He was sitting on the ground between our apartments. He looked out of it. I brought him here once I
got Matty. And now we’re here.”

“You’re not having sex with my son? The way he trades-in his women has me wondering if you’re next on his list.” I do not miss the way those glasses track my body up and down, like I’ve been put under a microscope to examine. Who the hell keeps sunglasses on when you’re inside?
Pretentious much?

I should say something like
it’s none of your bloody business
, or to piss her off,
yes, I get it three times a night, thanks for asking.
I do none of these things.

“I just live next door. Thought I wou
ld help him out. Nothing else.”

The lady looks satisfied. I just want to go
home
.

“Well, you can leave, now. I’m here. I’ll take care of my
boy.”

Yes. This is a good plan. I want to go home and eat, anything to get out of this hospital. This lady is giving me a way out. So, why does it feel like running away? And besides, Matty’s wrapped around me, and I don’t want to wake him up by transfer
ring him to his grandmother.

“I think I’ll stay. Besides, I need to watch after Matty. Make sure he gets some food in him.” The way her mouth twists up has me fighting a grin. “You’re more than welcome to join us.” I throw out as an afterthought just to be polite. I hope to
hell she doesn’t want to come.

A hand claws its way up her throat. “Eat food?
Here?
” I might as well have invited her to dine with a colony of lepers. Bloody hell.

“We’ll see you in a bit, then.” I move to stand, wrapping my arms around Matty’s body, trying to minimize the amount of jostling he’ll experience. Grabbing my purse, I foll
ow the signs for the cafeteria.

“Matty,” I whisper in his ear, feel his arms give me an unconscious squeeze in sleep. My heart flips over as I rub his back to wake him up. “Ma
tty, we need to eat something.”

Lifting his head from my shoulder, he looks at me with blue eyes almost like his father’s. “Sera, I’m tired.” He yawns right in my face, being so
adorable I can’t even take it.

“I know, buddy. We were hyped up before, and now we’re crashing. We’re gonna eat, and you’ll feel better. Promise. How’s a ham and cheese sandwich sound?”

I focus on nutrition. We need real food, as much as hospital cafeteria food will provide, not empty calories. I would put my name in the Goblet of Fire for a cup of coffee right about now.

I grab an apple juice, a bottle of water. I add two ham and cheese sandwiches, a pasta salad with chopped veggies. A cup of coffee for me, black with three sugars. I add a large Styrofoam chicken soup
that I think we can both share.

When I’m done paying, I let Matty choose the table, following his dark head to one in the corner. We tuck in. Matty’s got a hold of one triangle of his ham and cheese sandwich, still only two bites in when I wolfed mine down in a very unlady-like fashion.

I start sipping coffee, hoping to distract myself from my hunger. I would rather the little guy eats more than me. My body can eat the fat on my ass instead.

“Does yo
ur Dad get tired often, Matty?”

Still munching, he looks up at the ceiling, like the right answer’s written there. “Not every day as bad as today. Sometimes, he gets tired three, four, five times a day! And he’s
always
okay. That’s how I know he’s gonna be okay.”

I smirk, hoping the kid’s right. I can’t imagine his grandmother taking care of him if something were to happen to H
unter.

“How old are you, little man?”

He juts out his free hand, holding up four fingers. “Four!”

I make my eyes pop in surprise. “Four years old? I thought you were five! Wow. And you knew exactly what to tell the nurses about your
Dad. I’m seriously impressed.”

“Daddy always makes sure I know what to say in case I have to call nine-one-one when he gets tired,” he tells me, taking another bite of his sandwich.

I wince. It totally sucks that the he has to know that. I can’t imagine how inadequate Hunter must feel, teaching his kid what to say and do if his life is ever in danger.

“If your Dad has to sleep here, do you want to stay with your grandmother tonight, Matty?” I open the soup, dunk a spoon in and try it. Yeah, it’s going to need about ten packets of salt. I start searching in my purse for some, noting that I’ll need to replenish my supply before we leave to go and see Hunter again. Salt
and burn, baby.

Matty pulls a face and shakes his head. “No way. Grandma doesn’t have Peter Pan, and Eddie’s always sleepy w
hen I ask him to play with me.”

“Eddie?” I as
k, thinking it’s Hunter’s dad. But then Matty would’ve said grandpa. I concentrate on the soup instead, letting the warmth hit my belly as I slurp it up.
Matty nods, taking another two bites from his sandwich. I reach for the plastic casing it was in and pull out the second triangle for him to eat. “Yeah, Eddie. Eddie takes care of Grandma and me, when I’m there. He makes me eat vegetables,” Matty sticks his tongue out in disgust, “and makes Grandma drinks that smell and taste funny.”

I choke on my mouthful of soup and have to swallow it down hastily if I don’t want to die. Well, I am in a hospital, so it could be a lot worse.

“Is Daddy going to sta
y here tonight, Sera?” he asks.

I shrug. “We’re going to have to ask him that, little buddy.
When you’re done eating, we’ll go and see him, alright?”

In answer, Matty takes a giant bite out of the second triangle of his sandwich. It’s so giant, both his cheeks are blown up and I can’t make up my mind if he looks
like Alvin, Simon or Theodore.

“I think you’re my favourite person, Matty,” I blurt, since it hit
s me so clearly and perfectly.

Matty
continues chewing, but uses his free hand to blow me a kiss. That’s it, that’s all it took. Head over heels in love with this kid.