Page 83 of The Road to Home Base
He’d be okay. I wasn’t leaving his side for a second, unless he asked me to. The lawyers and police would take care of Ricky. Alex would never have to worry about that man again. The only thing he would focus on for the next few months was getting better and letting me love him, take care of him.
A new torrent of tears came in a shocking moment of realization. For years, my biggest and primary focus had always been making postseason and eventually the World Series. To stare at and hold the Commissioner’s Trophy. My life had been built around this. But now? I barely gave it a second thought. Alex came first.
I would set aside the damned World Series for him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alex
BEEPING. SUSSUROUSWHOOSHESfrom something ticking behind me. Or was it beside me? My brain had fogged over and my body felt like I had run ten consecutive marathons without a break. I could barely open my eyes but I tried to anyway.
Blurry blinking. An astigmatic screen clouded my vision. I grunted, annoyed. Blinked again.
Someone squeezed my hand. Reflexively, I squeezed back.
Finally, my vision sharpened as I lolled my head to the side. A hazy vision of tanned skin and dark hair clarified into the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I attempted to say his name.
“Alex,” Rome said. He leaned over the bed and pressed a delicate kiss on my forehead. My eyes closed. Felt like he emptied his soul into that kiss, like he could feed me energy of his own.
When he pulled back, I lifted my arm and gestured toward his head. “What’s this?” I managed to ask.
Rome chuckled and felt at the stitches cutting through his left eyebrow. “Battle scars, baby,” he said through a half-grin.
My brow quivered. “Battle?”
Rome hovered back over me. Another kiss on my forehead.He pulled back and kissed my hand.
“Rome?” I said when he didn’t answer me. I took closer stock of the man I stared at. There was more damage on his face beyond the stitches. Half his face was covered in bruises. Specks of dried blood mottled his five o’clock shadow. Someone had beaten him up. How? Who?
Cold fear shot through me. Somewhere nearby, a monitor captured the moment, beeping increasing.
My eyes shut as flashes of memories played in my mind’s eye. Phantom pains accompanied each tableau. I could feel my ribs cracking again. Skin on my face splitting. The strike to my solar plexus seizing my entire body with soul-shaking pain.
That beeping increased. My eyes opened to see Rome standing back as a nurse checked the equipment around me. My breathing increased but every intake caused me to wince, which in turn made my heart rate kick up even more. Fear compounded. I tried to swallow but even that was painful. I reached for Rome.
The nurse called for something. Ativan? A second nurse appeared and pushed something into my IV.
The toll of a sudden bell. Whatever anxiety seized me abated. The sharp pain with every breath remained, but at least I didn’t feel like sinking into a black hole. One of the nurses moved Rome out of the way. He hesitated and I could have kissed him for that.
The next twenty minutes was a whirlwind of questions and adjustments. Rome remained dutifully nearby while the nurses did what they needed to. A doctor came in asking perfunctory questions that the nurses already found out.
And then we were off. Techs wheeled my bed into the hallway while Rome followed. Better mental faculties came with each turn of the bed and by the time we reached our destination, I was fully awake and taking note of everything. They raised the bed for me so I could sit up. A new IV bag was spiked, more pillowsbrought in, and my eyes dilated to the beauty of morning sun streaming through the window. A sleepy Cambridge came to life before me.
The second bed in the room remained empty. In no time at all, only me and Rome were in the room. He pulled up a guest chair next to me and took my hand in both of his. Another meaningful press of his lips to my skin, as if he could rejuvenate and heal me with a simple kiss.
“I’m already awake, Prince Phillip,” I said. “Now, will you please tell me what happened? Last thing I remember was hitting the pavement…”
Rome’s story started with a confession and I could see from his hunched shoulders and tightened grip of my hand that he needed to unburden himself. He put the weight of the world into revealing that he “spied,” as he said, on me. I would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. I had one thing to hide from him and that was only to hold on to the surprise for as long as possible. Everything else was an open book.
I told him that I didn’t care, that I was glad he trusted his gut enough to check. He curated a good instinct throughout his life and he should trust it when it counted the most. And it did last night.
I could tell my words didn’t fully assuage the guilt. Perhaps in time he would come to see, but for now, I urged him to move forward.
My pulse remained even-keeled during Rome’s retelling of the events. (Thank you, Ativan.) My knight had saved me. Both him and Devin seemed certain Ricky would have killed me. A bad, bad beating, yes. Death? No. I think he wanted to take me to the edge, though. Ultimately, however, that was for the courts to decide.
“The cops will probably be here soon to get some statements from you,” Rome said. He hadn’t budged from his spot, handsstill encapsulating mine. Even with cuts and bruises, he cut a handsome figure. More rugged now. I liked it.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” I admitted. My throat felt raw and I hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words since waking up. “Maybe later?”
