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Authors: Julie Bailes,Becky Hot Tree Editing

Shattered & Mended


Shattered & Mended

By: Julie Bailes

Must read Shattered & Shaken, and All for Allie prior to Shattered & Mended

Copyright © 2014 Julie Bailes


Published by

Edited by

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All rights reserved.


License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. This work may not be recreated in any form, digital or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.


Copyright © 2014 Julie Bailes Published by

Edited by
Hot Tree Editing



I sit here in the waiting room, simply waiting. Waiting on someone, anyone, to tell me of her condition. No one will tell me a motherfucking thing, not even Lucille. It’s been three days. Three days of constant worry; three days of nothing but pure mental and emotional hell. I’m clueless as to what led her here. Why was she at Sophie’s apartment? Hell, what in the fuck was I doing at that slut’s apartment? I can’t remember a Goddamn thing from that night, the night Allie ripped my heart out of my chest. She stomped on it like she was putting out a fire.

I should’ve never left; maybe then she wouldn’t be here. All I wanted to do was get away for a while, catch my breath, and settle my mind with only a few beers. I said things I regret. And the pain in her face when I told her I gave up, that I was done, clouded my vision the entire drive to Willie’s. I turned my back on her and I left her, again. 

What the fuck was I thinking? I know better than to walk away from someone in the middle of an argument, but what else was there to do? She gave a piece of me away, a piece of our love. How could she just give away our baby? Rage consumed all of me, and it was best I left before I said more shit that I didn’t mean. Hell, she’ll probably never look at me again. And I may never know, because no one will let me near her. I need to know she’s okay. I can’t fucking take it; I can’t take not knowing if she’s in pain or not. I hate the unknown and I’m losing my damn mind.

And that piece-of-shit Blake; who in the hell does he think he is, sucker punching me in the nose, and trying to claim my girl? He’s clearly lost his fucking mind. He waltzes around here believing he’s big shit because he’s able to keep an eye on Allie, and I’ve been banned from the premises. Fucking ass. He’s been itching to get his hands on me ever since he read the accident report. Apparently, Allie has talked about me many times before because Blake knew who I was, referring to me as her ‘ex’. Ha! He’s been terribly misinformed, and believe me, I set his ass straight. I informed him I sure as hell am NOT her ‘ex’. She’s mine, she always has been, and she always will be. 

I couldn’t hold back the evil chuckle that rolled up my throat as I watched his face turn beet red. The veins in his neck pulsated from anger, and I listened to the grinding of his teeth. I wanted him to make a move; even the slightest twitch that he was coming for me and I would’ve taken his rich, snobby ass down. I needed some way to release my anger, and kicking ass comes naturally to me. Who the fuck is he to question me? He has no clue what I’ve been through, what Allie and I gone through. 

Before we could take our conversation any further, he got a call from one of the nurses caring for Allie. He tried to be secretive with the call, talking as low as he could, but I heard every damn word. Shit, half the damn waiting room heard the nurse’s voice through the phone.


Plus, the change in his posture and face said it all. The red that consumed his face drained and he raced to the elevator. I ran behind him, pushing my arm through the elevator doors just before they closed. “Fuck no. Get the fuck out, before I put you out,” he threatened. 

His so-called ‘threat’ caused me to burst out in laughter. Seriously? We’re the same height but I double him in size; he’s no match for me. I’d pay to see his lean ass attempt to move me even an inch. I stepped closer to him so we were face to face. “Please. If you enjoy being able to use your arms, you’ll stand down… Doctor,” I retorted. He reached out and punched the button that lead to the ICU. “I don’t have time for this shit, but you can bet your ass, we aren’t finished,” he seethed.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way. In fact, your little threats excite me.” 

As soon as the elevator doors opened, he vanished. He bolted through the doors faster than I could blink. He’s thinner than I am, so it was easy for him to slip through the crack of the elevator doors and get a lead. There was no way in hell I would’ve fit through the small space he slid through; you’d have a better chance fitting a camel through the eye on a needle.

I caught up to him just as he was preparing to enter Allie’s room. I reached out for the door handle but he stretched his arms out and blocked entrance into the room. “Aw, looks like she isn’t allowed visitors,” he said, as a satisfied grin spread across his face. “Nurse, would you mind showing Mr. Cooper back to the waiting area? Miss Anderson isn’t allowed visitors just yet,” he announced over my shoulder as his grin spread into a full-on smile.

“The fuck she will. I’m not leaving,” I growled.

“I assure you, you are. Either you follow her out willingly, or I’ll have security escort you completely off the grounds,” he said.

“If I didn’t love her so much, I’d bash your face in and be at her bedside. But since I want to be here when she asks for me—and she will ask for me—I’ll go to the damn w
aiting room,” I spat.

As he turned to enter Al’s room
, I followed the nurse through the double doors. She escorted me out to the elevators, pushed the button, turned around to slide her badge, and went back to work. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open, but I didn’t enter. Nope, I stood outside the doors for fifteen minutes waiting on someone else to come along and slide their badge to open the doors that led into the ICU. As soon as one of the nurses slid her badge, I snuck in behind her just before the doors locked. The nurse’s station was empty, all but one woman flipping through a chart with her back turned away from me. I went to Allie’s door and opened it slowly. As I emerged through the door, she lifted her head and our eyes immediately connected. 

Her monitors went crazy, and I felt her pain as I stared into her tired brown eyes. I took a few steps closer in attempt to get to her, but the closer I got, the more she began to pant.

Before I knew it, Blake turned around, called me a son-of-a-bitch, charged me, and landed one hell of a punch to my nose. I didn’t come to fight him. The bastard took me completely off guard. Obviously, he doesn’t care for Allie as much as he claims, because if he did, he would’ve controlled his anger. But after I saw blood, I was enraged. I only wanted to be by her side, to let her know
that I’m here for her, but he kept pushing me back. I had no choice but to fight back. 

Allie pleaded for us to stop, but Blake just wouldn’t give in. I have to hand it to him, he’s stronger than I imagined, but he isn’t strong enough. As I heard Allie’s breathless pleas, I tried to get to her, but it was too late. She passed out. Nurses rushed in, laid her bed flat and they started checking her vitals. Finally, Blake decided to put Allie first. I stood over by the door and watched helplessly as the nurses and Blake worked on my
distressed butterfly. I fought with myself to stay away, to stay out of their way. As much as I wanted to pick her up and hold her in my arms, I knew Blake was the only one able to help her at that very moment.

As I watched them bring Allie back, a strong hand rested upon my shoulder. “Come on, come with us, son,” a deep, husky voice commanded. I turned to see who the unfamiliar voice was, to see who had the nerve to approach me from behind: security. There was another officer behind him with pepper spray in one hand and handcuffs in the other. Reluctantly, I surrendered and followed them. They let me explain my side of the story, but it didn’t matter. Blake’s a resident here and I was an unwelcomed visitor, or so they said. They wrote up their report and banned me from seeing Allie. Actually, they banned me from the hospital, but fuck that shit. I’m not leaving. I refuse to leave her. 




Nausea consumes me as a distinctive odor invades my nostrils. It’s one of sickness and death. I don’t have to guess where I am; I’ve spent enough time in and out of this place that the smell’s been burned into my senses. I hear beeping. Slow and annoying beeping fills my ears as I listen closely for a sign that I’m not alone. I hear nothing. At the slightest movement, intense pain consumes my head. From the back of my eyes to the base of my skull, nothing but throbbing pain. My neck’s stiff and achy, and my entire body feels as if I’ve been beaten from head to toe with an aluminum bat. My breath catches from the pain that shoots down my spine as I turn my heavy head to the side.

A warm hand rests gently on top of my hand, and the thumb strokes the top of my wrist. Although I can’t open my eyes to see him physically, I know it’s him. I know it’s Blake. I can tell by the shockwaves that travel through my body from his touch. “Al, baby, can you hear me?” he whispers.

The pain my head’s experiencing prevents me from nodding; my brain feels fragile and loose. My lips crack as I separate them to answer him. I use my not-so-lubricated tongue to lick my lips, but retract it at the taste of copper. As I swallow
, my throat burns like I’ve taken down flames from hell. “Yes,” I force out, my voice cracking from the dryness of my throat. 

I hear him let out a shallow breath. “Thank God.” His feet shuffle as he stands and his warm lips press slightly against my forehead. “Babe, I’ve missed you. You scared the piss out of me,” he says softly against my head. Missed me? Due to the overwhelming pain in my brain and the raging fire within my throat, I’m unable to ask any questions. “Allie, can you open your eyes?” he asks. I love him. Dear God, I love him, but can’t he just kiss me and shut up? If he only knew how much pain I’m in, and how much energy it takes—energy I don’t have--to answer him, he’d stop talking. Usually his voice soothes me, but right now the vibrations from his voice travel through my ears and fuel the pain in my head, causing me to cringe. I don’t feel like answering his questions, but I can’t just lie here like a mute or he’ll interrogate me more. I’m left to choose between nodding through the cringing brain pain or fighting the blaze within my throat and respond to him verbally. 

Fuck it. I can’t do either. I might as well get this shit over with now and open my damn eyes. I will my eyes to open, but they fail me
; they’re too heavy. I take in a deep breath and brace myself for the pain it’s going to take to force these steel-like lids open. I use all of my strength and crack my left eyelid, but it closes almost immediately. “It’s okay, babe, just rest,” Blake encourages. Don’t really have a choice, do I? My body’s a dead weight. Like a log lost in the river’s wrath, I have no control.

I relax back into my pillow and Blake’s hand cups the side of my face. “You rest and I’ll go alert Dr. Dixon that you’re awake. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” He kisses the tip of my nose, removes his hand from my face, and quietly exits the room. Shortly after Blake leaves, a nurse comes in and begins examining me. She places her ice-cold fingers to the side of my wrist and checks my pulse. I can’t see what she’s doing, but I can hear her fumbling with paper. “Looks like both you and your baby are doing well.”

The fuck she just say? Baby? What baby? “Ba-baby?” I stammer, my voice almost inaudible.

“Yes, dear, baby,” she confirms.

My eyes snap open without force; I’m assuming from shock. She’s to the side of me
, untangling the wires that connect me to the machines. “I’m not sure what you mean by me and

‘the baby’. I don’t have a baby.”

She looks at me with pity in her eyes. “Allie, you are indeed pregnant. You didn’t know about the pregnancy?” she asks, bemused. Um, no. Being pregnant is something I would remember.

With work, I pull my hands up to rest on my stomach. It’s flat, but covered with two round monitors. “What are these?” I ask, eyeing my flat, non-pregnant stomach. She smiles sweetly and nods her head to the monitor beside me. The background is black with orange flashing numbers and a small heart. On top, the numbers read 118/72, my blood pressure. Beneath my blood pressure is a tiny flashing heart with the number 168 flashing, but the number continues to fluctuate up and down.

“One is monitoring the baby’s heartbeat, and the other is to make sure you aren’t having any contractions,” she explains. I furrow my brows, confused. “You’re newly pregnant.

It’s precautionary.” 

I know what the monitors are for; I’ve been through this before. However, I don’t understand how I could be pregnant and have no fucking clue. I continue to stare at the flashing heart in a daze until the nurse’s voice catches my attention. “As soon as Dr. Dixon checks on you and advises us that you’re doing well, I’ll bring you in something to eat and drink. I’m sure that IV isn’t doing much to fill your appetite.” As soon as she’s out of the room, I lift my gown up and examine my belly. I’m not pregnant. Blake was just in here and I’m sure he would’ve mentioned it. Clearly, she has her patients mixed up. I would know if I was having a baby for fuck’s sake.

Several minutes later, there’s a knock on the door, and in walks a tall, dark-haired doctor wearing light blue scrubs and a long white coat. He makes his way across the room and flips open a chart, skimming it quickly. He looks to be in his early fifties, possibly late forties. He clears his throat before looking to me. “Miss Anderson,” he greets. “Happy to see that you’ve finally decided to join us,” he chuckles. Chuckling? I cock my head and eye him curiously. I wake up in a hospital bed and don’t know how I got here; my entire body hurts, and I’ve been informed that I’m pregnant and had no clue. My presence here isn’t a chuckling matter!

He must take notice of the glare I’m giving him because his smile disappears and he shuts the chart. He walks to my bedside and places the earpieces of his stethoscope into his ears. “Wait. You’re Dr. Dixon?” He nods in response. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know why I’m here. Can you explain that to me, or at least shake my hand and introduce yourself before your hands get acquainted with my body?”

He pulls the earpieces away from his ears, takes a seat at the side of my bed, and rests his clasped hands on top of his lap. “Terribly rude of me. Allie, I’m Dr. Dixon, your neurologist and surgeon,” he announces with a genuine smile. “No worries, memory loss is normal with the type of head trauma you experienced. Do you remember anything? Hitting your head or the events that led you to have the injury?”

“No, not really. I hit my head?” He nods. “Huh. No wonder my head feels like it’s been beaten with a sledgehammer.” I bring my hands up to the sides of my head and immediately lose my shit when I don’t feel any signs of hair. Holy mother of hell, where is my hair? “Oh, my God. Oh, no. No, no, no. Oh, God, no …” I begin crying. Dr. Dixon reaches his hands out and clasps his fingers around my wrists, gently removing my hands away from the gauze-like bandages. “Allie, calm down, it’s just a head wrap we put on to reduce the swelling and bleeding,” he explains, his voice smooth and calming. 

“Swelling and bleeding? From what?” I look over to Blake who looks completely terrified. I should have asked him earlier, but my pain overpowered my thoughts. I wasn’t concerned about how or why I got here; I just wanted the pain to subside.

Blake looks to Dr. Dixon, waiting for him to explain. “You went to your friend’s apartment, remember that?” Dr. Dixon asks.

“Sophie,” Blake pipes.

“You fell down her steps, two flights of them. You got in a fight with the pavement, and the pavement won,” Dr. Dixon explains jokingly. Again, the humor. “You were rushed here as you continued to go in and out of consciousness. We got some images of your head and discovered you had some bleeding around your brain; a subdural hematoma is what we call it. The pressure in your brain was causing it to swell, so we had to take you into surgery to relieve the pressure,” he adds. For some reason my heart begins to race and I become dizzy as I process the information Dr. Dixon’s providing me. 

“May I have some water or something?” I ask.

“Not just yet. Let me finish examining you and then we’ll discuss it.”

“Do I still have hair?” I blurt out. He scrunches his brows at me as if he’s confused. “You said I had to have surgery on my head, so do I? I watch
Grey’s Anatomy
. I know y’all normally shave people’s hair off for that sort of thing.”

He laughs as he inserts the stethoscope pieces back into his ears. “Yes, Allie, you still have hair. Most of it’s wrapped up in the bandaging. However, you will have some that’s missing where we drilled the burr holes to drain the blood from around your brain; it shouldn’t be too noticeable,” he explains. Holes drilled into my skill? Hair missing? I should be freaking the hell out, but I don’t have the energy. Besides, if there was anything to be concerned about I’m positive Blake would’ve spoken up by now. I simply nod and become satisfied I won’t leave here looking like GI Jane’s little sister. Judging by the red, black and blue that’s covering my body, I’m sure my hair should be the least of my concerns anyway.

Dr. Dixon reaches behind me and gently lifts me from the mattress. He places the cold stethoscope to my back. “Okay, take a deep breath in and release it slowly,” he instructs. And as much as it hurts to breathe, I do as he says. I repeat the breathing technique several times before giving up. “Two more times, Allie. You can do it,” he encourages, gently patting my shoulder as he speaks.

“No,” I breathe, “it hurts too much.” He brings the stethoscope around to my front and places it above my heart. “Okay, just try to breathe normally.” 

He continues to examine me for several minutes, flashing his light in my eyes, making me do some type of tests by touching the tip of my nose with my finger, and reaching out to touch his moving-all-over-the-damn-place fingertip. The sad part is I’m exhausted from that small amount of activity. “Great. I’m going to allow you to have some food, clear liquids only, and if you can tolerate that, we’ll discuss moving you to solids later. You look great, and your baby seems to be doing well.” I keep my eyes focused on him, waiting for him to elaborate on said ‘baby’. He glances from me to Blake, and then he continues to tell me his plan of care. “Dr. Andrews has scheduled you to have an ultrasound later this afternoon. You seem far too early for your fall to have impacted your baby, but he insists the ultrasound is just to be cautious. Dr. Andrews has decided to take over your prenatal care until you’re discharged. In the meantime, as long as you remain alert and stable, we’ll remove your bandages sometime tomorrow. And if things go smoothly, it’s possible we’ll be able to release you within a few days.” 

He squints his dark, beady eyes at Blake. “I trust that you’ll follow my orders and not your own, Dr. Andrews. You take care of the pregnancy and I’ll cover the brain, got it.” He isn’t asking Blake a question, oh no. He’s warning Blake not to allow our personal life to cloud his better judgment. He hands the chart to Blake, nods curtly, and exits the room. 

Blake’s eyes follow mine as I lift my gown and eye the monitors, waiting for an explanation. “Care to explain? I’m not really pregnant, am I?”

He bites his lip to contain its twitch before nodding. “You are,” he confirms. His lip escapes his teeth and a huge smile takes over his face. As usual, his beautiful smile’s contagious. 

“You’re smiling,” I smile. 

“I’m smiling,” he nods, his eyes misting over. 

“We’re smiling,” I say, sounding utterly corny. “You’re not mad?”

He sets the chart down on the foot of the bed and takes my hand in his. “Mad? Hell no.

We’re having a baby, Allie, you and me … Do you realize how amazing this is?”

Amazing? Not so sure that my having a baby is amazing, but the fact that he’s happy we’re having a baby … that’s pretty amazing. “How far along?” I ask, knowing I can’t be far.

“Not sure. It’s hard to tell. We’ve lost ourselves in each other many times,” he reminds me, smiling seductively and licking his hungry lips.

“True,” I agree. It could have been July in Nashville or the day at the beach. Either way, this baby was deliciously made and I’m blown away by his excitement.

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