Page 58 of The Billionaire and the Runaway

We all step forward, but then she turns to us. “I’m sorry, are you family too?”

“No,” I reply. “I’m her boss. This is a work-related incident.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but only family can be back in the surgery ward. I can have Miss Titan contact you once she’s able,” she says as she turns and walks briskly through a set of double doors with Titan and Kimberly in tow.

James turns at the door and looks at me. “I didn’t care about your little farm one way or another. It was merely going to be an investment property. But now, I’ll make sure it’s mine by the end of the month,” he sneers and then walks through the door. I watch him through the small glass window as he hurries down a corridor. Part of me wants to run after him and beat the crap out of him, but I’m suddenly wondering if I should leave. Ariana doesn’t need me. I’m a blubbering mess. I’m having flashbacks and my farm is clearly about to be taken over by her father if he has his way. She needs someone who can be there for her, and who isn’t afraid to commit to her. I’m not sure that’s me. I’m not like James Titan. I’d do anything to protect her, but James…well, he’s the type of man that could literally move a mountain to protect her. I can’t imagine she wants anything less than that in a man. The sudden realization I can’t be the man she needs washes over me. She’s better off without me.

“Let’s go,” I say to my friends.

“What?” Joy asks.

“No. We can wait here,” Buck states.

Earl claps me on the back. “I’m sure she’ll call once she wakes up from surgery.”

Kingsley steps in front of me. “Don’t let that asshat cloud your judgment. He’s a jerk.”

“No, it’s better this way. I’m sure she’ll reach out when she can. Her father has things under control,” I state as I start toward the door.

“Why the heck did she say her name was Ariana Harlow?” Joy ponders.

“I don’t know, Joy. I don’t know,” I manage as we walk to her minivan and all pile inside. It pains me to leave her like this. I don’t want to leave her at all. My protective instincts tell me to run up the stairs and find her, to make them let me see her, but that nagging voice in the back of my head keeps telling me not to, to let this be the end of things. At least then I don’t have to break her heart later, when I get scared and can’t commit. Maybe this is for the best.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Ariana

It’s been two weeks since I came home from the hospital. I still haven’t spoken to Eric. When Dad said Eric didn’t want to stay, I was in shock. How could that be? But he assured me that Eric had left. Kimberly said she had checked and everyone from my work had decided not to stay. I don’t trust Kimberly, but I’m not sure why Dad would lie. I was in so much pain that first week. And they didn’t release me from the hospital for a few days. I don’t remember much from week one or two. Dad hired nurses for around-the-clock care. I start physical therapy in another two weeks.

I just want Eric. I’ve cried myself to sleep every night since I came home. I don’t want to be here. I just want to be back on the farm. And I hate that with my leg like this, I have zero independence. Just when I was starting to feel like I could do anything, I suddenly find myself unable to do a single task alone.

I stare at my ceiling as my phone buzzes. Katia has been calling nonstop, but I don’t want to hear her lecture me about falling for Eric or being stupid with farm equipment. I know I need to go get my things and wrap up my work. I wonder how the grand re-opening went. I didn’t even have the heart to check our social media page. It’s probably not even up to date since no one else there knows the passwords except Eric and he certainly never posts on there.

I look at my nightstand and am greeted by the letter I received last week in the mail. It’s for my medical leave from the farm. Apparently, I have very good health insurance and benefits. Even Dad was a bit surprised by this. Although he covered my entire bill saying he wasn’t going to let some nobody’s insurance pay for it. I swear, only my dad would pay hundreds of thousands of dollars out of pocket completely out of spite.

The letter said I could take off as long as needed and to contact Joy when I was ready to return to work. It was all very formal, and I cried when I read it. Eric didn’t even sign it, it was his e-signature, which makes it even worse. I’ve texted him twice and received no reply. I’ve started to text him again a hundred different times, but I can’t bring myself to hit send. I’m too hurt and too proud. I thought he loved me. Why won’t he reply? Did I imagine the entire thing? Was I so naïve that I didn’t even see we weren’t a real couple?

My leg itches and I want to rip this cast off. I get it changed to a soft cast in a few days. I can hardly wait. At least then I won’t have the weight of this giant brick on me. It’s hot, itchy, and gross.

I’m drifting off to sleep for the third time today when my door flies open.

“Wake up, beotch!” Katia yells as she steps into my room. My head turns and Katia’s eyes widen as she surveys the damage that is my leg.

“Fuck! That looks bad,” she mutters as she walks to the bed.

I throw my arm over my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t already know,” I mumble.

“That’s it. No more pity party. We are getting you out of here. It’s jailbreak time,” she declares.

I glare at her. “Uh, first of all, I can barely move, this cast weighs a ton, and second, where the hell are we going to go? My dad basically has me on lockdown,” I protest.

“When do you get this cement block off?” she asks as she taps it with one of her long fake nails.

“Hopefully, in three more days,” I grumble.

“Hmmmm…well, we’ll just have to make the most of it until then,” she says as she sits down on the edge of my bed. Her face goes from happy to a little sad. “How are you, like, for real?”

My eyes well with tears. “Not good,” I admit.

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