Page 117 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

THE CONSTRUCTION

Idrop out of school. I spend my days bonding with my niece and nephew, working at Randall Construction, and being present with everyone.

My phone rings, and it’s Trent. “He’s awake.”

He’s awake. He’s awake! It’s been five weeks with no signs of improvement but he hadn’t gotten worse either. I don’t ever bother saying anything. I run out of the guest house and speed to the hospital. The sliding doors to the hospital open, and I almost slide on the tile floors. I press the elevator button once, twice, and even though I know it won’t do a damn bit of good, a third time. It dings, and I continuously press it for the doors to close.

Does he remember anything? Is he…okay? What lasting damage might he have now?

I run all the way down the hall and come to an abrupt halt at his door. Doctor Amira Hall smiles at me. I ask with my eyes if he’s okay. She gives me a kind smile and a single nod.

Despite Keaton not having any family, he has never been alone. Members of the police and fire department have been by every day. Trent and Noah, Jeff and Tara, Rachel and Alice, Mom and Dad, the crew from the construction site, have all come by. I’ve been here every single day. I hate I wasn’t by his side when his eyes first opened.

I slowly enter the room. Trent is laughing. “I think you got your ass kicked enough.”

What?

Trent’s blue eyes glisten as he pats Keaton’s hand. He nods to me and then leaves.

“Denise.” His voice is raspy.

What have I done? This is all my fault.

“I should’ve protected you better.”

“What? You did! Oh Keaton. How much brain damage has been done?”

“Still full of sass, I see.” He swallows. “You could’ve died.”

My voice breaks as tears stream down my face. “You idiot. You almost did die on me. This is all on me. Worse, I can’t even make it right.All I can do is ask for your forgiveness. I should’ve confessed in the beginning and dealt with everything head on.”

I love him. I’d suspected I was falling for him, but when I thought I’d lost him permanently, I knew. My chest begins to feel tight, and I feel the onset of a panic attack. I force myself to calm down. Not now, I can’t do this now. I close my eyes and block out all my thoughts. He’s alive. He’s awake and seems fine. I keep my eyes closed and begin to break down crying again. The trembling starts, but this time, I don’t have any medication to help. Because I don’t need it. I still have a bottle for emergency panic attacks only, prescribed by Doctor Amira Hall.

I slowly begin to control my breathing. Tears are still falling, but I’m not worried I’m going to bite off my tongue from my teeth shattering. I open my eyes and look at Keaton Sloan. “I love you.”

He gives me a smile that has his dimples showing. “That was worth waking up for.”

“Keep waking up for me, and I’ll keep saying it.”

He holds his fingers up and I intertwine mine with his. “If I wake up for you, then you have to wake up next to me.”

“Are you trying to blackmail me again?”

“How else are you going to know if I’m keeping up my end of the deal?”

“That’s true.”

“I love you.”

Him saying those words after waiting so long for him to wake up has my heart doing funny flips inside my chest.

“Sounds like we have deal,” I whisper.

“Damn right we do.”

It’s been a month since Keaton woke up. I moved in with him, and surprisingly my parents didn’t freak out. I know I’m twenty-one, but I still expected an argument. I’m sure a few months ago, there would’ve been an argument. Just like a few months ago working at Randall Construction would’ve been a hard no for me but when my father wraps his loving arms around me when I arrive to work, I want to cry. Today, we’re helping build a house for Habitat for Humanity. I typically work in the office, but today, I got to head out to the site. I laugh and enjoy the sunshine all day.

My parents keep reminding me that one phone call could get me back into school and into my internship program. I tell them I need time. I see the sadness in their eyes, but I’m not sad. Like today, I feel no pressure working with my father. I feel relief that I don’t have a deadline. For now, I’m taking time to figure out what I want.

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