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Authors: Sherry Gammon

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BOOK: Unbearable
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“Oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you. He rehired me a few days ago.” His body seemed to relax. His shoulders drooped a little and he had a content grin on his face, as if he’d just gotten away with something.

“You can leave if you have work, Garen. I understand. Besides, that stubble on your face is driving you crazy.” I touched his arm. “But don’t be long. It’s been nice having you so close.” I about choked on my lie.

“It’d be nice to have this gone.” He scratched his jaw again. “No. I’m not leaving you, Terese. Graft will have to wait.” Garen patted my hand.

I slumped down into the bed. At this rate, I’d never be free from the monster. I needed to stop waiting for the opportune moment, and just make it happen. Maybe I could tell one of the nurses. I had to. No way could I leave with him in two days. As my fears escalated, tears fell down my cheeks. I batted them away quickly, but not before Garen saw them.

“Terese, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?” He grabbed my hand as a nurse walked in.

“Hello, Mrs. Johnson. My name is Lian Liew, and I’ll be taking care of you today.” The petite nurse dressed in blue scrubs marched over and set a package of gauze and some tape down on the bedside table before grabbing gloves from the same box the doctor had earlier. “Dr. Moore asked me to redress your incision.”

“Thank you.” I frowned. The five-foot nothing of a nurse wouldn’t be my ticket out of here and away from my husband. I needed the big brute nurse from yesterday who took care of me. “Is Bo here today?”

“Who’s Bo?” Garen pressed, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Wait, he’s the nurse who took care of my wife yesterday, correct?”

“Yes,” Lian said as she applied the gauze. “He’s off until next week. He and his wife are on a cruise. Lucky them.”

No! I crossed my ankles to keep from jumping up and running out of the hospital.

“Are you okay?” Lian asked as she added a strip of tape to the dressing.

“She’s having some pain,” Garen said. “Can you get her something, please?” Garen brushed my cheek.

“I’ll check her chart when I’m finished here.” She applied another strip of tape as Garen’s cell phone rang.

“It’s Senator Graft, Terese. I
need to take this, but don’t worry. I’ll be right by the door.” Garen’s tone held more of a warning than anything else. He walked to the door, but stayed in the room, keeping me in full sight.

“I’m supposed to remove the IV, but I can give you something for pain first if you’d like. Otherwise I’ll have to give you a shot.” As she leaned closer to add another strip of tape to the dressing, her head blocked my view of Garen.

“Help me,” I whispered. Her eyes shot to mine. Thankfully she didn’t move. “Please, help me. My husband’s the one who did this to me, not a stranger like he keeps telling everyone. I’m afraid he’s going to kill me.” Her soft brown eyes hardened.

“He’s the one who attacked you, who beat you up?” Her voice was as low as mine. I nodded ever so slightly.

“Is everything okay?” Garen edged his way between the bed and the nurse.

“No, actually. Everything is not okay.” Lian turned to face Garen. My hands fisted the sheets. Did she honestly think she was a match for Garen? “Your wife’s in a lot of pain. When I asked her to rate it on a scale of one to ten, she said twelve.” Lian stuffed her hands in the pockets of her scrub top.

“I guess you’d better get her something for the pain then,” Garen snapped, scooping my hand in his. His palms were damp. She nodded curtly and left.

“What where you talking about?” he asked as the door closed.

“Um, like she said. My pain level.” I shifted in the bed.

“So why was she leaning so close? I couldn’t even hear you talking.” He let go of my hand and folded his arms, stretching to his full height. Not good.

Think, Tess.

“She lowered her voice because you were speaking to Graft and she didn’t want to disturb you. She’s a big supporter of his. Voted for him twice.”
I chuckled, hoping it didn’t sound forced. “She’s a bit star struck. I thought she was going to ask me to get her an autograph.”

He nodded, a wistful look in his eyes. “Someday I hope to evoke that kind of awe in people.”

A light tap and the door opened. Lian entered carrying a syringe. “My wife tells me you’re a fan of Senator Graft.”

My stomach tightened needlessly. Without missing a beat Lian said, “You told him.” She flashed Garen an embarrassed grin.

“Don’t worry,” Garen insisted. “It happens all the time. I’m used to it.”

“Still, not very professional of me.” Lian removed the cap from the syringe. “Dr. Moore ordered a second pain medication for what is known as break through pain.” She injected the medicine into the IV tubing. “With your wife being in so much pain this w
ill be best. No sense in letting her suffer. She’s been through enough.” She patted my hand. I looked at her bewildered. How did doping me up help me escape from Garen?

However, unlike the other times I received pain meds, this time my mind stayed clear. She’d lied to Garen. The thought gave me hope.

“I should warn you,” she faced Garen, “she’ll be out cold for a good three or four hours. I mean completely out of it. A nuclear bomb won’t wake her. Altamelidene is our strongest narcotic.”

“I’ve never heard of it.” Garen scratched his jaw again.

“Just approved by the FDA.” As she continued, I pretended to battle my eyelids as if they weighed fifty pounds each. I even yawned. “See what I mean? Some of my colleagues jokingly call it the horse tranquilizer. While I don’t feel that’s professional, it’s accurate.”

“So she’ll be completely out of it?” Garen asked, as I fluttered my eyes shut.

“Yes. It’s twice as strong as her regular pain med, and you know how drowsy that makes her,” Lian said. “She won’t even know you’re here.”

She must be trying to get him to leave. Now if Garen would take the bait. I had my doubts.

“She’ll be that out of it, for sure?” He sounded intrigued. “So I could go shower and she’d never know I was gone? I mean, after what happened to her, I haven’t dared to leave her alone. You know, I don’t want her to be scared.”

“The staff is right, you’re a wonderful husband,” Lian cooed. “And yes, you can go home and shower, even take a nap if you’d like. She
’s not going to wake up. And judging by the way you are scratching that stubble, I’ll bet you’d enjoy a good shave right about now.”

The next thing I knew, Garen grabbed my hand and lifted up, then let go. I let it fall lifelessly to the mattress.

“She’s out cold,” Garen said. “Maybe I’ll go shower.” I heard his shoes tapping on the linoleum floor as he walked away from me, then the sound stopped. “I don’t know.” He sounded hesitant. “I’d hate for her to wake up and find herself alone.”

“Mr. Johnson, I’ve been a nurse for over ten years. I guarantee she’ll not wake up. You deserve some down time. You’re wearing yourself ragged. Now go,” Lian insisted, reiterating, “She’s lucky to have such a devoted man in her life.”

It was silent for a moment. “One hour. That’s all I need.” He opened the door and left. I struggled to sit up, my incision pulling.

“Don’t move.” Lian put her hand on my shoulder and gently pressed me back to the bed. “Close your eyes. Let’s make sure he leaves.” I heard her feet pad to the window. “There he is. He’s running toward a blue car, a Fusion.” A few moments later she added, “and his Fusion has left the parking lot.”

I slowly sat up again. “Thank you,” I said, feeling as if the world had been lifted from my shoulders. I could almost dance. Tears welled in my eyes. “I don’t even feel drowsy. What did you give me?”

“Saline.” She shrugged. “Please tell me I understood you right. He did this to you?”

“Yes. He tried to kill me.” As I blurted out what had happened, Lian removed my IV after calling security, who called the police. Two officers showed up, as did the doctor from earlier.

“Mrs. Johnson, I wish I’d known,” Dr. Moore said soberly after I answered Officer Clark and Thomas’s questions, recounting what had happened. “I’m so sorry. He was so attentive.” He handed me a fresh tissue. “He’s a good actor, I’ll give him that.”

“I’d like to call my family.” I blew my nose for the hundredth time as Lian handed me her cell phone.

“Thank you.” With shaky hands, I took it and punched in the number to my dad’s phone.

Garen burst into the room before my dad answered. I snapped the phone shut and scooted carefully off the bed, ducking behind Officer Clark. Officer Thomas, a large brute of a man, stepped up to Garen.

“I demand to know what
’s going on.” Garen had the audacity to look confused. “Did she steal drugs from one of the nurses? She has a huge drug problem.”

“That’s a lie,” I said, still safely hidden behind Officer Clark.

“A lie?” He laughed a short hard laugh. “I have it on tape. She’s an addict and her brother’s her supplier.”

“No, that’s not true.” I shook my head.

“Turn around, Mr. Johnson, and put your hands against the wall,” demanded Officer Thomas.

“For what? Loving my wife? For staying by her side through her addiction?”

“You’re being charged with several things, one being attempted murder.” Thomas spun Garen to the wall and cuffed him after frisking him.

“You’ll be sorry,” Garen screamed as they hauled him out.

Chills racked my battered body. The relief I felt just moments ago evaporated.

 

Chapter 19

Present Day

 

Seth stopped by the office after lunch and persuaded Booker to go with him to a restaurant supply store. My afternoon dragged on without Booker around. Since sharing the story of his tragic loss of his mom and sister with me, we’d grown close. We had an unspoken bond. A deep trust. I found myself even more drawn to him, and it grew difficult to not take our relationship to the next level.

I locked the office door and headed to my car. Booker’s poor car sat next to mine, with its now duct taped bumper. The trunk was permanently stuck shut. The shiny new muffler looked out of place on the pathetic thing. I couldn’t help but smile at the POC as I scraped the snow off my windshield.

Nikkolynn pulled in next to Booker’s car. I groaned silently. She’d been a thorn in my side these past couple months. She learned my first name was Terese from my email signature and now insisted on calling me that, when she wasn’t using more cheerful names for me, like home-wrecker. She reminded me of Garen with her mind games, only she was nowhere as good as him. I’d decided not to show the emails to Booker, hoping to avoid any more trouble with the girl. If she got the internship in New York she’d be leaving soon and would be out of our hair. Booker laid it on pretty thick in his recommendation letter.

“You do realize with a letter this nice, she’d be accepted into a convent,” I commented after proofreading it for him.

“Exactly.” He smiled broadly. Loved that smile.

Unfortunately, this afternoon Booker saw the latest smack down letter she sent me before I could delete it. He asked how long she’d been doing it. His cheeks flushed with anger when I told him.

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow. This won’t happen again,” he vowed on his way out with Seth.

“Good. You’re leaving, Terese. Booker and I can be alone.” Nikkolynn strutted passed me. I didn’t acknowledge her. The snow crunched under her feet as she made her way toward the building.

“Booker’s gone for the day,” I said quietly,
after
she went inside.

I jumped in my car, cranked up the heat, and left before Nik came back out, driving straight to Maggie’s. Lilah eagerly agreed to meet me there to help me in my quest to reclaim at least part of my life.

I sat in the driveway debating for a solid two minutes before Maggie stepped out on the porch and waved me in.

“Are you excited?”
She took my coat and hung it on a hook by the door.

“Sure
.” I chewed at my lower lip. She laughed and led me to the kitchen. I couldn’t help but admire the beautiful cherry cabinetry.

“Booker built those.” Maggie pointed to the cabinets. “Talented, don’t you think?”

“Very.” And sexy and funny and . . .
Yeah, I need a life
.

“Lilah’s upstairs getting everything ready.” As we climb
ed the grand staircase, which, she pointed out, Booker also built, I noticed how her shirt practically hung on her. She’d grown so thin over the past few weeks, and I wondered if she’d been sick again. Not wanting to sound rude, as in, “Hey, Mags, you look like crap. Are you sick?” I kept my opinion to myself.

Before we entered the room she turned to me. “Lilah’s a little down. They thought she was pregnant this month, but she’s not. She’s trying to act as if it’s no big deal, but . . .”

I nodded as she opened the door. We went into the master bathroom, my eyes landing on the grand tub in the center of the room.

“Wow,” I said.

“I know, right?” Lilah said with a smile that didn’t touch her eyes.

“Hi, Tess.” Sofia stood next to her mom, applying a wide ring of lipstick to her lips.

“Don’t you look lovely?” I sat in the stool in front of an oak vanity, almost eye to eye with the child now. I could see that she had at least three other colors of lipstick on already.

“Do you want some?” Sofia held the tube up to me. Maggie and Lilah smiled.

“Maybe later,” I said as Lilah picked up a red brush and began pulling it through my hair.

“Are you sure about this?”
she asked my reflection in the mirror.

I nodded weakly.
“No . . . but yes.”

“That’s what I like. A woman who knows her own mind,” Lilah said with a smile.

“I’m ready. But let’s hurry before I change my mind.”

Maggie snorted a laugh. “It
’ll be okay. Lilah’s great with hair. You should’ve seen how pathetic mine was before she rescued it from certain death.” Maggie fingered her pretty brown hair. I had a hard time imagining it looking anything but great.

“Let’s get started.” Lilah took a cup and a long paintbrush-looking tool and started painting whatever was in the cup onto my hair. “Oh, yeah. I forgot to warn you. This stuff stinks,” she said as Maggie gagged and opened a window.

Lilah worked quickly, covering my hair with the stinky solution. Maggie stayed rooted at the windowsill, frequently sticking her head out for fresh air. The smell was ten times worse than the bottled hair color I normally used. Halfway through, Mags excused herself, claiming she needed to check on dinner. Lucky girl.

Sofia set the makeup down and followed Maggie. “You stink,” she said to me, plugging her nose.

“Sorry. I need to strip out all this nasty box color,” Lilah said as she dabbed on more solution.

After letting the stuff sit on my hair for thirty minutes, I knelt over the tub so she could rinse it out. It took all I had not to freak out as Lilah held my head under the
water spout to rinse it. I concentrated on the trail of dark water running from my hair, down the drain, and out of my life. Goodbye bad memories.

“Okay,” Lilah said when the water ran clear. She wrapped a towel around my hair and led me back to the vanity. “If the stinky stuff did its job you should be back to your true color. If not, we may have to dye it your natural color for a bit.” She combed through my hair, added some kind of yellow creamy stuff “for volume,” she said, before blowing it dry.

Maggie and Sofia came back as Lilah finished. Mags propped the door open and stood there to avoid the fumes still hanging in the air.

“What do you think?” Lilah
held her hands out as if presenting me. Maggie smiled broadly. Sofia stomped her foot and fisted her hands at her side.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” I asked her.

“Now Booker will love you and not me,” she declared, a pout on her cherub face.

“Sofia, please be nice,” her mother said firmly, to which Sofia folded her arms and knit her brow in silent protest.

“Ready to see it?” Lilah asked. I nodded as she turned my stool around to face the mirror.

I gazed into mirror, taken back at seeing my natural red hair color again. I ran my fingers through a few strands, twisting my head from side to side. “Something seems off.” I didn’t quite look like the old me. I leaned in closer before realizing what it was. The contacts. They were dark brown, and my eyes were a blue-green.

I removed them, placing them in a small paper cup Lilah handed to me. “Perfect.” Now I looked like me. I smiled at my reflection, before turning to Lilah. “Thank you. This looks better than I’d hoped.”

She stared back at me, her mouth hanging open. “What?” I turned back to the mirror.

“Booker’s a dead man,” she said, looking at Maggie.

“Lilah, give Booker some credit. He doesn’t just like a woman because she’s pretty,” Maggie defended, pinching her nose against the smell.

“I know. But I think we can all agree that he is already attracted to her,” she said. “All he ever talks about is Tess this and Tess that. I’m just saying.”

With her nose still plugged, Maggie came next to me. Both her hand and her mouth dropped. “Booker’s a dead man.”

“See!” Lilah grinned triumphantly.

I looked back in the mirror. I knew I was pretty. I’d heard it most of my life, but I had no idea my disguise hid that much. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” My heart raced in my chest. Garen would spot me for sure now. I grabbed the cup with my contacts.

“Tess,” Lilah placed both hands on my shoulders. “Why don’t you give it a couple days? If you still feel this way, I’ll recolor it for you.” I looked at her reflection in the mirror. “It’s a big change. It probably feels overwhelming right now.”

I nodded. Of course she was right. Besides, what were the chances of Garen showing up in Port Fare, New York? He worked for a Texas state senator. He’d have no reason to come here.

“Seth’s made eggplant parmesan for dinner. It’s a new recipe he wants to try out for the restaurant. Please stay and have some,” Maggie insisted.

“Thank you.” I loved eggplant Parmesan, despite Garen. I steadied my nerves and pushed away the fearful thoughts.

“Goodie. I can’t wait to see Booker’s face when he sees you.” Maggie all but skipped out of the bathroom.

“Booker’s coming?” I stood and slid the stool under the vanity.

“Yup. And I’m with Maggie. I can’t wait until he sees you.” Lilah hurried out the door.

“But . . .” I said to no one. Even Sofia had stomped away. “Positive thoughts, Tess. Only positive thoughts.”

BOOK: Unbearable
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