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Hung Up on Hadley (Red Maple Falls, #5) Page 16
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He had only been hurt once in his long career, the fire before she gave him the charm. She had been so scared on that dreary October day when they received the phone call that Sam was in the hospital. She swallowed down the dread rising up her throat. Worrying wouldn’t do him any good. Kate was right. Sam had been a fireman for a long time. There was a reason he was promoted to chief and a reason the entire department looked up to him.
He would be fine. He always was.
Chapter 21
“Flames ripped through a residential home in the small town of Red Maple Falls yesterday evening. Firefighters did everything they could, but in the end one person is dead and one of their own is hospitalized. We have Steve Willis on the scene with more information.”
“Thank you, Paula. I’m here in Red Maple Falls, a close-knit community that is trying to come to terms with this tragic event. A faulty electrical wire is the cause of the evening blaze that claimed the life of a young father. Rich Morgan was described by one neighbor as a family man with a kind heart who would go out of his way to help his elderly neighbors.”
The words drifted into Sam’s ear, and all he wanted was to turn them off, but while his mind was awake, his body was still lost in the blackness. He tried to move his hand, turn his head, but he was stuck in a fog, his body weighted down by what felt like blocks of cement.
He felt his hand lift, the gentle slip of familiar fingers linking with his. Warm, soft lips pressed against his knuckles, and he felt the vibrations of a sob that went through his arm and right to his heart.
Hadley.
After everything, she was here for him. He hated how much he needed her and how just feeling her touch gave him strength.
“How is he?” Matt’s voice broke through the fog.
“The same.” He could hear the forced smile in Hadley’s voice, know that she was doing everything in her power to keep it together but she was holding on by a thread. He wanted to pull her to him, tell her he was okay, and that somehow, they would find a way to make it work, but that was a fairy tale and he never believed in them anyway.
Inside of him, he was his father, and if he didn’t hurt her now, one day he would. He wasn’t going to allow her to stick around and wait for it, not when he could stop it.
“The bastard’s going to wake up,” Matt said, and Sam wanted to scream that he was awake, but suddenly the fog consumed him, and he was helpless against it. He tried to fight it off, but it became too strong and he was too weak. He surrendered and drifted back into the darkness.
***
“You should go and get some rest,” Sam heard and tried to turn toward the voice, but it was useless. He still couldn’t move. He had absolutely no control over his body. He could make out the voice and knew it was his mother. He tried to call out to her, but his words were soundless.
“I’m okay.”
Hadley. She was still there… still waiting by his bedside.
***
Light danced across his eyelids, and he felt the bed shift on his side. His hand lifted but not on its own accord. The feather soft touch of a fingertip swirled against his palm.
“Remember my prom? I do. It started out as one of the worst nights of my life and then you showed up, handsome as could be in your tuxedo, and you made everything better. You made it the best night of my life. But that’s just you. You always know what to say to me and what to do. You know how to ease my pain and calm my nerves.” She squeezed his hand, and he could hear the soft sound of her cries. “Damn it, Sam, I need you right now. I need you to make me laugh and tell me that you’re okay. That you’re not going anywhere.”
He felt the weight of her head on his chest, the violent shakes of her body as she succumbed to her tears and all he could do was lay there. He couldn’t hold her, couldn’t tell her the things she wanted to hear, and maybe it was for the best. Maybe she would realize that he wasn’t the guy she needed him to be.
When the darkness came this time, he welcomed it with open arms.
***
Sam squinted against the blinding light. His throat felt like the Sahara, and it hurt to try and speak. He willed his arm to move and was grateful when it came up from the bed. He patted the table beside him, searching for a cup, a pitcher, anything to relieve the drying burn.
He came up empty-handed and turned toward the window. Emotion added to the unbearable pain in his throat as his eyes landed on Hadley, curled up in a ball on a chair. The midday sun shone through the blinds and cast a radiant glow around her. She looked like a damn angel.
She stirred, his Chief’s jacket that was draped over her slid down her arms, and she opened her eyes. She wiped the sleep away and immediately looked at him. Her eyes widened, and she leapt from the chair.
“Sam… Are you really awake?”
He nodded. She came to him, tears in her eyes, and pulled him into a hug. He could smell her cherry Chapstick, the floral scent of her shampoo, and the familiar scent caused a pain deep inside him.
It wasn’t fair that he got to wake up and hug the woman he loved when a good man would never get to hug his wife or kids again. Sam went stiff against her, and she pulled back. Her excitement lost to the disappointment and uncertainty.
He pointed to his throat and scratched out, “Water.”
“Yes, I can do that.” Hadley ran around to the other side of the bed and grabbed a pink pitcher off the table and poured water into a plastic cup. “Here.”
He lifted his arm, an IV getting in the way. He took the cup and brought it to his lips, relishing the cool liquid as it rehydrated the dry crevices of his mouth and throat.
“I should get the nurse,” Hadley said, but he reached for her arm. He wasn’t expecting the electric current that ran through his body from a mere touch. It was like he was a starved man, being fed for the first time in months.
He ignored the overwhelming desire to pull her close, to kiss her and assure her that he would never leave her. She looked down at his hand wrapped securely around her wrist then those beautiful slate eyes met his. The black ring around her irises darkened, showing him the hope and fear that were battling it out inside her.
He dropped her arm, afraid if he held on a second longer he wouldn’t be able to go through with what he had to do.
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes big and innocent—so damn innocent that it almost made it impossible to speak.
“Why are you here, Hadley?” he asked, making sure to keep his tone even.
“I…You…Of…” Every time she started to speak she stopped herself as if she was looking for the answer that he wanted to hear.
“I told you we were over.” He winced as she sucked in a wounded breath and swayed back slightly.
“I just… You were hurt and I wanted to be here for you.”
“I’m awake now. You can leave.”
Her injured pride morphed into anger, the black ring around her irises practically glowing with rage. “You’re an asshole,” she snapped.
“I tried telling you. You didn’t want to listen.”
“We’re back to that? This stupid notion that you’re your father?”
Sam’s teeth gritted together. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control the words that came out of his mouth. Maybe he wasn’t his father. That idea lived deep inside of him, and while it scared the shit out of him, the rational part of his brain knew better. The real problem was that he’d lost his chance at happiness the minute Rich Morgan lost his.
“I know you,” she cried, stabbing her chest with a determined finger. “I know you better than you know yourself, and you are not your father.”
“Really? Then why do I not give a shit that you’re crying right now?”
“You’re pushing me away.”
“No, I’m asking you to leave. You just won’t take the fucking hint.” The words were like acid on his tongue, but he didn’t dare flinch as they spilled out. He needed to stand his ground, needed Hadley to leave because he couldn’t bear hurting
her anymore.
That last response seemed to cut deep. She stared at him in disbelief, a hurt so intense it nearly broke his heart in two.
She swiped up her belongings and headed for the door. “I don’t regret it,” she said, spinning toward him. “None of it.” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep breath before walking out the door and out of his life.
Chapter 22
The last thing Sam needed was some bullshit pity, but that’s exactly what he was getting as Chase stood uncomfortably in the corner of the room staring in at him. He’d managed an awkward “hey” when he’d entered, but hadn’t said a damn word since.
Agitated, Sam sat up and tossed an annoyed look in Chase’s direction. “If you have something to say just spit it out already.”
Chase tapped his fingers against his leg then looked up at Sam. “How you doing?”
“Fine,” he snapped.
“Sure, sounds like it.” Chase moved farther into the room and sat down on the edge of the black leather recliner. “We’re worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
“I figured you’d say that. Even have a bet with Miguel. He owes me ten bucks now.”
Normally Sam would comeback with some witty remark about how Chase could put that ten dollars to use, but he just didn’t have it in him anymore. The guy who liked to quip and make ridiculous jokes died in the fire along with Rich Morgan.
They sat in silence for a while, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. Chase stood, ran his hands down his thighs and then sat back down.
“You should get back to the station,” Sam finally said. He just wanted to be left alone to wallow.
“You did everything you could,” Chase said, and a hot lump formed in Sam’s throat. He swallowed it down, trying to ignore the sting in his eyes and the pain in his heart.
“No, I didn’t. If I did, nobody would have died.” If he only sent Rich ahead of him, even if it wasn’t the practical choice. He needed to clear the path and make sure it was safe, but if he would have just sent him ahead… If he had only gotten there sooner… If he would have taken Maple Street instead of Oak, he could have bought himself at least an extra minute. That minute could have been all the time he needed to save a life. A family wouldn’t be without their father, husband, son, or brother.
He could have saved him and been the hero; instead he was the man who’d failed.
“I’m not going to let you sit and drown in self-pity,” Chase said.
“Whatever. Just go.” Sam was sick and tired of people trying to convince him that he wasn’t the reason a father would never get to hold his kids anymore. No matter how many ways they diced it, Rich Morgan was still dead.
Chase stood and turned toward the door. Sam eased back into the couch, but before he could close his eyes and fall back into the blackness, Chase turned around.
His face was twisted in anger as he pinned Sam in place with the steel of his eyes. “So someone died. It sucks. But sometimes life isn’t fair and you just have to deal with it. Think about all the people you have saved, the countless lives that you have touched and left an impact on.”
Sam ran a hand over his face and met Chase’s glare with his own. “None of that matters now.”
Chase shook his head, anger turning to frustration. He smacked a hand against his chest. “I was a sixteen-year-old kid with an attitude problem and on a one-way street to shit town. Until you saw something in me that no one else ever did. You gave me a chance. You gave me purpose and in doing so you saved my life. Don’t you dare tell me that doesn’t matter. It matters! And I have two sisters and a brother who can vouch for that. So go ahead. Sit here and pine over something that was out of your control, but don’t for a second think that what you’ve done for the past fifteen years doesn’t matter. Because that’s bullshit. I know it, the town knows it, and if you’d get your head out of your ass for two damn seconds, you would know it, too.”
***
Driving from Calhoun’s after a late lunch with Kate, Hadley passed the middle school and spotted Missy sitting on the edge of the curb. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and her backpack rested against her leg. She glanced out to the street, a hopeful smile each time a car passed before it would falter.
Hadley put her blinker on and pulled the car over to where Missy was. She gave her a wave. “Hey, Missy.”
Missy looked up and smiled when she recognized Hadley. “Hey, Hadley.”
“What are you still doing here?” The parking lot was clear, the buses had already left, and there wasn’t a single person in sight. Hadley glanced down at her watch to check the time. “School let out over an hour ago.”
“I’m waiting for Sam. He always picks me up on Wednesdays.”
“He didn’t show?”
“No, and he’s never late.” There was a slight tinge of fear in her voice, and Hadley didn’t blame her. Sam would never purposely forget about his baby sister. She was his life—one of the few things he had in this world that had always kept him going.
“Have you tried calling him?” Hadley asked, trying not to let her own panic consume her. He was probably out on a call or lost track of time, though that sounded nothing like Sam, but he hadn’t been himself lately. At least that’s what she had been told. He’d been avoiding her like she had the plague.
Missy nodded. “Went right to voicemail. I’m sure he’s coming.”
Hadley didn’t want to worry Missy so she agreed. “I’m sure he is, but let me give him a call.”
She slipped out her phone and brought up Sam’s number, staring at the stupid heart she put after his name. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to hear his voice. She stepped away from Missy and hit the call button.
Matt had mentioned that Sam hadn’t been himself since the fire—that he’d been drinking more and refusing to go out. So many times she wanted to go to him, but he made it very clear she wasn’t welcome. Seeing him would be a painful reminder of the awful way things ended with them. So she forgot about what Matt said.
Besides, Sam couldn’t be in that bad of a state he’d forget to pick up his sister? Hadley didn’t want to believe it was true, but she had a horrible pit in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Maybe she shouldn’t have let him push her away, maybe when he said he didn’t need her he was really saying he did he just didn’t know how to ask.
She swallowed down the rising lump in her throat as the phone rang, but when it went to voicemail the lump grew. The phone beeped, and she forced the words out.
“Sam, it’s Hadley. I found Missy at the school. In case you’re on your way, I have her. I’m going to take her home. Call me. I’m worried. Okay. Bye.”
Hadley hung up and spun back to Missy, plastering a smile on her face. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
“But what if Sam comes, and I’m not here? He’ll worry.”
“I left him a message. He knows how to get in touch with me.”
“Okay then.” Missy grabbed her backpack and pulled it onto her shoulder. “You think he’s all right, don’t you?”
“Of course. He probably got held up at work and lost track of time. It happens to the best of us.”
“I guess you’re right. He always acts like he’s so perfect, but nobody’s perfect.”
“No,” Hadley agreed. “Nobody is perfect.” She thought about her regrets of keeping their relationship a secret, how it kept her up at night, wondering if they would have come forward sooner if things would have ended the same way. Sam wasn’t perfect and neither was she, but she still believed they were perfect for each other.
Stupid tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she shook her head, refusing to succumb to self-pity. “You like ice cream?” Hadley asked Missy.
“Is that a trick question? Who doesn’t like ice cream?”
“Good because there are a couple of cones with our names on it.”
A few hours later, self-medicated with chocolate ice cr
eam, she had dropped Missy off then headed over to Sam’s place. She parked right next to his truck and hopped out of her pickup. Her heart slammed against her chest as she headed to the front door.
She half expected him to come out of the house, thanking her for picking up Missy because he got held up somewhere, but the door never opened. The area was quiet except for the wind rustling the bare tree branches and the dead leaves on the ground.
She knocked on the door and waited, but when it went unanswered by knock three, she reached for the knob. The door was unlocked, and she eased it open, poking her head in. “Sam?” she called but didn’t get a response.
Her heart rate picked up. She let herself in and was shocked to see his fire gear in a pile on the floor, still reeking of smoke and burnt wood. She stepped around it and moved down the hall, passed the kitchen where dishes were piled high in the sink and boxes of cereal and crackers lay open on the counters.
Beer bottles and cans overflowed from the garbage, and a stale scent permeated the air.
The pit in her stomach grew. This was so unlike Sam. He wasn’t exactly a stickler for cleanliness, but he always kept a tidy house and never left things out on the counter, especially not half eaten and opened.
She ignored the desire to go into his kitchen and start putting things away and continued toward the living room, almost afraid of what she might find. Matt had been working a lot of overtime and she wondered when exactly the last time he was here. Did he know about the dirty dishes? The opened and uneaten boxes on food of the counter?
What if Sam was hurt or worse…? She couldn’t think it, so she let the thoughts vanish from her mind completely as the couch came into view.
There he was, passed out, arm over his eyes, beer can still in his hand. The coffee table was covered in empty bottles and cans, and a bag of chips had spilled over onto the floor.
“Did you have a frat party here?” Hadley asked loud enough to startle him awake.
He squinted at her, the beautiful shade of aquamarine hidden beneath a layer of red. The back of his hand rubbed at his eyes before he attempted to sit up.