Fighting Back (Fighting For Love Book 5) Page 7

  “What was it?” Mia asked.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter, Nick, and you’re going to tell me. Now.” Mia glared at him, and he was thankful that he was sitting down, because the force of that look would damn good and well knock him flat on his ass otherwise. “Remember what you said, about talking to me about everything? Well, now’s a really good time to work on that rather essential life skill. Yeah?”

  “Uh.” He stared at her, saw that the woman wasn’t messing around, not even one little bit. “Uh, yeah.”

  “So.” Mia plunked herself down on his bed, crossed her arms. “Talk, Spencer.”

  “Maybe I’ll just –” Cheryl started to inch towards the door, but when Nick suddenly slammed his eyes shut and doubled over in the chair, she launched herself at him. Mia dropped to her knees next to her, reached for her boyfriend’s hand. Cheryl’s nurse’s persona was firmly back in place and she heard the authority in her own voice as she asked, “What’s happening, Nick?”

  “I – I –” He opened his eyes and all Cheryl saw was confusion. “I’m itchy. I’m – I’m tingling. Oh, fuck. I can feel it.”

  “Feel what?” Mia asked, perplexed, but Cheryl understood. Oh, God… did she ever.

  “This is phantom limb, Nick,” Cheryl said quietly, knowing that the most important thing right now was to keep him calm. “Doctor Bishop and Maisie both talked to you about it, right?”

  “Yeah, but…” Nick stared at the end of his stump. “I didn’t expect it to be so… real. It feels like my leg and foot are there, Cheryl. I mean, fuck – my left foot itches.”

  Right away and without a word, Mia reached for the end of his leg, but kept right on reaching. Nick blinked in utter incomprehension as Mia started to run her hand back and forth in the air, her fingers moving as if she were scratching his foot. If he had one, that is.

  “Here?” she said to him. “Is this where it itches?”

  “Mia.” Nick stared at her like she’d lost her ever-loving mind. “What are you doing?”

  Cheryl, however, looked both pleased and impressed. “How’d you know to do that, Mia?”

  “I read about phantom pain and phantom limb after Doctor Bishop mentioned it last week,” Mia said, still stroking the empty space where Nick’s foot used to be. “All the research said to scratch the empty spot where it’s itchy, and to make sure that the person watches.”

  “Why?” Nick asked, his eyes now fixed on Mia’s fingers.

  “Because your body’s nerve endings are confused.” Mia slid her hand up and down now, as if she were massaging his non-existent calf. “They don’t understand yet that the leg and foot are no longer there, and they’re sending messages to your brain that are inaccurate. I know it feels real to you, babe, but this is a breakdown in your body’s communication with itself. For now, let your eyes tell your brain that I’m scratching the itch, alright?”

  “OK,” Nick said, willing to try anything to make this bizarre sensation and experience end. “Move lower, angel.”

  Mia did, her fingers making a scratching motion again. “Here?”

  “Lower.”

  She nodded, did as he asked. And for Nick it was the weirdest thing, but even as he saw her touching nothing but thin air, he felt her small hand on his foot. He actually felt her fingers stroking his skin, felt her gentle touch on his toes.

  “Oh, shit,” he muttered. “This is seriously freaky.”

  “I know,” Cheryl said. “This’ll happen from time to time, but what Mia’s doing is the way to handle it. Most people have no more phantom experiences after about a month.”

  “I’ll look forward to that,” Nick said wryly, then he jerked in his chair. “Oh, man, Mia.”

  “What?” She froze. “Pain?”

  “No. No pain.” He grinned at her. “You’re tickling me.”

  Her golden eyes lit up. “Am I?”

  “Mmm-hmmm.”

  She sped up the scratching with her fingers now and Nick laughed. “How’s that?”

  “Oh, Christ… stop.” He laughed again, then exhaled hard when she withdrew her hand. “That’s better.”

  “What do you feel now?” Cheryl asked him.

  “Nothing.”

  “No itching or twitching? No sense that your limb is still there?”

  “No.” Nick stared down at the air. “No, I can feel where my leg ends at the stump. Fuck, that was creepy.”

  “I know,” Cheryl said, trying to reassure him. “I’ve had patients who have lost hands so convinced that the hand was still there, they’ve actually tried to pick something up, even though their eyes clearly told them that their hand was gone. Some patients wake up in the middle of the night totally confused and disoriented, and try to walk to the bathroom on legs and feet that are no longer there. I’ve seen some bad falls for that reason.”

  “Really?” Nick said.

  “Really. Phantom limb is real, Nick, and I know it’s upsetting. I’m sorry, but it’s something that you’re going to have to get through and learn to deal with.”

  “By doing what Mia did?”

  “If it’s just itching or even burning, then yes. Scratch the air, put a cold cloth on the phantom limb… that’ll usually work. But if you experience pain, then like actual and strong pain, you need to come back here and Doctor Bishop will arrange for you to talk to a therapist.”

  “Why?” Nick said, shocked. “What would that do?”

  “Some people feel pain because they’re not coping psychologically with the loss of their limb, and this may manifest itself in a sense of physical pain. Some pain sometimes is pretty common, but constant and overwhelming phantom pain is not… if it happens, you need to talk to someone. OK?”

  “I’m thinking about going to some meetings,” Nick said slowly. “Maisie told me about this one support group…”

  “Luke Rhodes’ group?” Cheryl asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, great.” Cheryl nodded. “Yeah, those guys’ll help you. They know what you’re going through, and if anyone can talk you through something stressful or upsetting, it’s Luke and his boys.”

  “Yeah?” Mia perked right up at this news. “So Maisie’s recommendation was a good one?”

  “The best,” Cheryl confirmed. “No going wrong with those men, Nick, I can assure you, even if some of them are still struggling a bit.”

  “What do you mean?” Nick said. “Some of the guys aren’t coping so well?”

  Cheryl shook her head. “Not my place to say anything more. You’ll need to go and meet the group yourself, see who’s dealing with what and how. Help them when you can, ask for help when you need it. That’s how this kind of group works, Nick… that’s the only way it works.”

  “Right.” Nick thought about that for a few seconds, wondered just how the hell he was meant to help anyone. Christ, he had exactly none of this figured out, and he didn’t see any answers presenting themselves any time soon. Still, he could listen if someone needed him to do that, and he could sure as hell dust off his pom-poms and be a cheerleader. “I guess I’ll call Luke when I get home this afternoon.”

  “Excellent,” Cheryl said. “You do that. You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

  Nick nodded, and was surprised to find that he was feeling strangely optimistic about that conversation. He didn’t know Luke very well, but what he did know of the man from the gym he greatly liked and admired. Luke was tough, kind, funny, driven. He was a good man and a great human being, and if he was able to offer Nick a place in his group, then Nick was going to jump at it.

  Yeah, there were worse people he could trust to help him through this. That was for goddamn sure.

  Chapter Seven

  Mitch clutched Reena’s hand and glared at the guy in the front seat of the SUV. “Why the fuck are we stopping here?”

>   The man – he’d said his name was Dallas, but he hadn’t offered anything more than that – met Mitch’s look in the driver’s mirror. His hard blue eyes held the glare, and clearly showed that he was totally unfazed by either Mitch’s size or demeanor.

  Then again, the guy was just as big as Mitch was, and his badass vibe was just as strong. Quite probably stronger. A guy like this wasn’t going to be put out by harsh looks or harsh words. Hell, Dallas could undoubtedly dish both out – and in ample amounts.

  “Mitch,” Reena reproved.

  “What, babe?” he gritted out. “We’re in the middle of some nowhere neighborhood and he’s stopped the SUV. I want to know what the fuck.”

  Dallas shrugged. “Me and Reena walk to the safe house from here.”

  “From here?” Mitch looked around again. “How far is it?”

  “Not far.” Dallas opened his door, nodded at Reena to follow suit. She opened the back door, slid out to the road gracefully. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours. You can entertain yourself, yeah?”

  Mitch glared harder, hard enough to make his eyeballs strain a bit. Now the other man actually had the nerve to look semi-amused, which just ramped up Mitch’s protective instincts. It also goaded his smart mouth to pop open again.

  “Hold on, man,” Mitch growled, also climbing out of the SUV. “I need more information than that.”

  “Mitch,” Reena repeated, a bit more alarmed now. She’d seen him like this before. The most recent time had been when some drunk moron had put his hands on her when she’d been standing up at the bar getting a glass of wine. Mitch had literally exploded across the floor and damn near broken the idiot’s fingers. When he looked like this, he was approaching full-on, take-no-shit, alpha mode… and she got the feeling that this Dallas guy knew a thing or two about inhabiting that place. “It’s fine.”

  “Not,” Mitch snapped back. For as long as he lived, he’d never forget finding Reena right after the beating that Simon had given her– some nights he dreamt about her bloody face, ripped clothes, bruised eyes. No fucking way she was wandering off with this hulking stranger. “Not fine. I want to know where you’re gonna be, babe. We don’t know this guy, and I won’t have eyes on you once you walk off with him. You really think I’m gonna be OK with that?”

  Dallas studied him intently for a minute, then he grinned widely. “Yeah, fair enough, Corrigan. No way I’d just let my girl take off with a guy who looked like me, either.”

  Mitch relaxed. Marginally. “No?”

  “No.” Dallas leaned back against the SUV, crossed his arms. His muscles strained against his tight black t-shirt and Mitch narrowed his eyes, crossed his own gargantuan arms. “So. The safe house is five blocks over. That way.”

  Mitch turned, scanned the houses. “It’s a residential house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh.” Mitch blinked. “I guess I expected a centre of some kind.”

  “Nope. My wife bought the property and had it converted into small, individual apartments.”

  Reena peered up at Dallas. “Your wife?”

  “Yep. My wife owns and runs the place. It’s her that you’ll be meeting, darlin’.”

  “Hey!” Mitch barked. “No sweet pet names, dickhead!”

  Dallas grinned again, held up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Sorry, man. Just a habit.”

  “Apology not accepted,” Mitch muttered.

  Dallas stifled a laugh and Mitch glared some more.

  “OK. Anyway,” Dallas continued, turning to Reena. “My wife’s waiting for you right now. She’s got a few women from the safe house there with her, and they’re happy to answer any questions you may have. You feeling OK about me taking you there alone?”

  “I’m feeling fine about it.” Reena shot Mitch a look that clearly said, Simmer down, big boy. “We both are… right, babe?”

  “Right,” Mitch snarled. “I need your number though, man. If you don’t have her back here in two hours, I’m gonna start calling. Then I’ll track you down.”

  “No problem.” Looking supremely unconcerned about being threatened by a furious professional kick-boxer, Dallas took out his cell. “I’ll call you now.”

  Mitch gave him his number, Dallas called, and Mitch saw the number pop up in the display.

  “Good?” Dallas said, pocketing his phone again.

  “Yeah. Good.”

  “OK, then.” Dallas smiled at Reena, and she smiled back, liking his warm Texan accent. “You ready?”

  “Ready.”

  “Love you, sugar,” Mitch said. “If you need me, you call.”

  “I will.” Reena got up on her tip-toes to meet his kiss. “But you know it’s going to be fine, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” Mitch grunted, knowing that he wasn’t going to relax until she was back here and in his arms. “I know that it better be.”

  **

  Dallas led Reena up the front path of the house, and she took a good long look at it. She turned to Dallas.

  “How many security cameras?”

  “Six.” Dallas punched in a code and the door buzzed and unlocked. “Plus cameras in every room inside.”

  “Really?” She followed him in, glanced around. “They need so many?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Dallas said darkly and she took in his expression, saw real rage on that handsome face. “The assholes that these women and kids are running and hiding from are the dregs and scum of my gender, Reena. I swear to God, I refuse to even call them ‘men’, ‘cause a real man doesn’t do what these monsters have done. He doesn’t even think about it.”

  “Oh,” Reena said in a small voice. “I see.”

  Reena tried to get her head around what Dallas had told her before meeting the women. She’d experienced violence by a man, of course, but it was once and although she’d been hurt and badly frightened, she’d healed. The thought that she was about to meet women who’d gone through what she had – but they’d gone through it over and over – was astonishing. It was worse when she considered that the abuse had taken place at the hands of the very men who were supposed to protect and care for these women.

  Husbands. Fiancés. Boyfriends. Fathers of their children.

  The betrayal had to be complete, and Reena braced herself for whatever was coming.

  “Come on,” Dallas headed across the large, warm entrance hall. “This way.”

  Meekly, she followed, and when he swung open the door to a large dining area, she stared around in shock. It was sunny and colorful, and had children’s artwork hanging everywhere. Best of all, there were four women sitting at one of the long, scrubbed-wood tables drinking coffee and laughing hard enough to split their sides. They looked so happy, so safe, so at home, that Reena felt her heart rate slow down.

  One woman spotted her, got to her feet. Reena stared at her, took in the long red hair, the curvy, lean body, the stunning face. She knew that she knew this woman and she stared hard, trying to place her.

  It was when she saw the long, shiny scar down the woman’s left cheek that she knew who was standing in front of her.

  “Olivia Jameson,” Reena gasped. “Oh, my God.”

  “Olivia Foreman,” the woman corrected her softly. “I got married.” She gestured at Dallas. “To this gorgeous hunk of man, actually.”

  “I had no idea,” Reena stammered. “I mean… after what happened that ended your modelling career, you kind of… fell off the face of the earth.” She flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – God, I don’t usually stick both feet in my mouth at the same time. Normally, I do it one foot at a time.”

  Olivia laughed, her brown eyes dancing. “Don’t worry about it, Reena. It’s all fine. Yes, I had a stalker who sliced me up with a knife and yes, that ended my modelling career pretty damn quick. But then I got married to Dallas here, and I turned my attention to the sa
fe house full-time. In the end, I’m much happier.”

  “Yeah?” Reena found that she could breathe again. “You prefer things now?”

  “Oh, hell, yeah.” Olivia smiled, and Reena found herself staring at the woman’s beauty. It was odd, but she barely noticed the ugly scar now and she knew that it was because Olivia’s kind, sweet spirit was shining on out.

  The woman had a good heart, and if there was one thing that Reena knew after years of painting portraits, it was that inner beauty always, always trumped outer beauty. She also knew that beautiful people with ugly souls looked ugly – though most people were too dazzled by the attractive outer packaging to always see it right away. Still, it always bled through in the end.

  But clearly, Olivia Foreman had both inner and outer beauty… and she had it in spades.

  “So,” Dallas said now. “You ladies good?”

  “Yeah.” Olivia smiled up at him, and he reached out and stroked her shining hair. “Come back in ninety minutes to get Reena?”

  “Sure thing, baby. I’ll go do some work in your office, OK?”

  He kissed her full lips and the other women whooped and cat-called. Olivia blushed but gave a shimmying little bow to her audience, and Dallas winked at them and blew them some kisses. Reena grinned at their undeniable cuteness, and watched Dallas head out of the dining area.

  “Come sit,” Olivia invited her, patting the space next to her. “Let me introduce you to some truly amazing women.”

  Reena nodded, relaxed totally. She’d been in the safe house for approximately three minutes and she’d met Olivia Foreman less than one minute earlier – but she already knew where that million dollars was going.

  **

  “So… you’re giving the rest of the money to the ‘ex-celebrity-who-shall-forever-remain-nameless’ safe house?” Mia asked Reena five hours later. “That’s your final decision?”

  Reena nodded. “I already informed the judge and the D.A.”

  “What decided you?” Katie asked her through a mouthful of cheese-and-cracker. “Was it the ex-celebrity?”

  “Well, yes and no.” Reena nibbled on some nacho chips with guacamole. “I mean, she was totally impressive as a person and she’s totally dedicated to making life better for so many people, and so those were huge factors. I love what she’s accomplished, and the fact that she’s done about ninety percent of it with her own money is amazing. But what really made it a done deal in my head was what she wants to do in terms of expansion. She was applying for grants and looking for funding, since what she wants to do is pretty expensive.”