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THIRTY-ONE

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Carter

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I can’t work. Tapping my pen against the back of my neck, I pace my office. Something is wrong, I can feel it.

She called off Wednesday and texted back to say she’ll be in today but she was cold and rude. She hasn’t been answering my calls or her door, but she did respond via text last night, finally, but it did nothing to ease my mind. At least I knew she was safe.

Taryn said she was showing up today, but as of 9:32 a.m., the clock reads, she still hasn’t shown.

Where is she?

Her ass better just be running late, or I’ll be hacking into her cell phone provider to track her movements and then I’ll be dragging her in by her hair...

I sit at my desk, and try to work. Briana knows she’s to alert me the minute Taryn walks off that elevator. My secretary had looked at me a little strange at my request—probably because I’m acting like an angry lion today—but just said she would.

I pull up Taryn’s text on my phone. I can’t concentrate until I clear the air. Until I know things are okay between us. I hit the call button and it goes straight to voicemail. Not good.

I shoot off a text: It’s almost 10, where are you? Get your ass to work now.

I hit send and realize that was harsh, so I send another: If you’re not coming in today, you have to let us know. If you’re going to continue to call off sick, HR needs a doctor’s note.

I send that one and also realize I’m being a dick but I don’t care. I’m going out of my mind.

Glancing at the stack of things I need to sign, I begin signing them without reading them. It manages to distract me remarkably until about 11 a.m. I hit the call button on my phone. “Briana, no word from Ms. Andrews?”

“No, sir. You’ll be the first to know when she arrives.”

“Thanks.”

I hit the button again and lean back in my chair as it squeaks under my weight. We had such a perfect and dare I say magical weekend then July Fourth. If she’s sick that’s one thing, but her text was so rude and cold that I have a sick feeling in my stomach. I can’t take this anymore. Something’s wrong.

I pull up her cell phone provider’s website and hack in through the back door. It takes me an infuriating twenty minutes to locate her account and I search the phone’s location. It’s indicating the phone is off and can’t be traced.

“Fuck!”

I log out of that and call up Declan.

“What’s up, man?” he asks in his usual jovial voice.

“I need a favor,” I say.

“You sound frantic,” he replies.

“Can you check hospital admissions for me? Taryn’s missing... her phone is off... I’m worried—”

“I got you, I got you. Take a breath and hang on. I’ll check CU Health’s hospitals. It’ll take a little longer to check the others...”

I hear him typing and the computer dings. “That was easy. Yes, she’s here, being held in the emergency room.”

“What!” I roar, getting up from my desk and snatching my keys up. “What floor is the ER? I ask as I tell Briana I’m leaving and will have my cell.

“First,” he replies.

“Go check on her please if you can. I’ll be there ASAP.”

“I will. Don’t kill yourself on the way here, we don’t need another patient.”

I end the call, not bothering to wait for the elevator as I fly down ten flights of stairs and run to my car in the garage. I’m so glad I drove myself today, having given Dave the rest of the week off to start his 35th wedding anniversary weekend early.

I fly through downtown, my thoughts going insane with so many horrible scenarios, and I try to push them away. I feel moisture build in my eyes and scream as I pound the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

I can see the large, looming hospital and make an illegal U-turn, squealing into the valet parking and opening the door before the valet attendant can get to me.

“Keys are in it!” I shout to the young man approaching and fly into the lobby, quickly locating the signs to the ER. I head inside and see a full waiting room. I walk up to the receptionist station where two ladies are laughing about something.

“Taryn Andrews, where is she?”

The one closest to the computer looks at me with wide eyes and says, “Calm down, sir. Let me look.”

Fucking tell me to calm down!

“She’s here, but unless you’re family, you can’t go in there,” she says, looking a little scared of me and pointing to the door leading to the back.

“What room?”

“Sir, I’m paging her doctor...”

“What room!” I roar.

“Carter,” I hear.

I look over to see Declan signaling to me from the door. I quickly follow him through it and down a long hallway and to a room.

Taryn is sitting up in a bed, a large oxygen mask over her face. She looks groggy but smiles at me weakly. I rush over to her and fling back the covers, checking her for injuries.

“What are you doing?” she squeals.

Declan grabs my arm. “Stop. She’s not injured.”

“What happened?” I ask, evening out my breathing and trying to calm down now that I can see she’s alive and well.

She flops the covers back over her legs and adjusts herself in bed. “Carbon monoxide poisoning.”

My eyes bulge out of my head. “What! You give me that condo manager’s name right now, I’m gonna sue him—”

“I was at my mom’s,” she interrupts.

“Fuck!”

Declan lets go of my arm. “She’ll be fine, I talked to the doctor. She just needed a strong dose of CO2 and oxygen. She’ll be okay, bro.”

I blow out a breath and rake my fingers through my hair. “Thanks, man. Sorry. I’m just really freaked out.”

He pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll call you later.” He walks out of the room.

“Surprised to see you here,” she says quietly as I stand at the foot of her bed. “Come to drag me to work?”

“Stop it,” I say, pulling up a chair and scooting it next to her. “I’ve been out of my mind, Taryn. We had the perfect July Fourth and then I thought my life was falling apart. Why didn’t you just come to me? Talk to me?”

“I...” She starts, then stops.

“You didn’t have food poisoning, did you?” I ask.

She shakes her head and looks at her lap.

“I didn’t think so, otherwise, because you’re usually a kind and caring person, you would have called to check on me to make sure I wasn’t sick as well, since we ate at the same barbeque. I mean, you did tell Lisa you got food poisoning from the Fourth of July festivities. And of course I contacted Lincoln and was a little embarrassed to ask if anyone else was sick. Implying his food was—”

“I was avoiding you,” she blurts out.

My brows raise. “Why?”

She hesitates and being that my patience is already an unraveling thread away from snapping, I say, “Spit it out. What did I do?”

“A woman...” She clears her throat. “A woman came by to see me Tuesday night after you dropped me off after the fireworks. She... she... shit.” She rubs her hand across her forehead.

I’m becoming alarmed at her mention of a woman, and my anger ebbs a little. But I stay quiet, hoping the uncomfortable silence will get her to fill it with words because I feel like I know where this is headed.

Her eyes meet mine and I hold her gaze, encouraging her to continue. “She showed me intimate photos of the two of you, then said she was your fiancée and was pregnant with your baby, and you were getting married in the fall. That you don’t...” She chokes a little on her words but continues, “You don’t love me and are just using me to get stuff out of your system before the wedding.” She looks down.

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” I growl, knowing exactly who she’s talking about. “Curly blonde hair? Skinny?”

She bites her lip and nods.

I pull out my phone and click on Richelle’s Facebook page. I turn the screen toward her. “Is this her?”

She lifts her gaze and stares at my phone, nodding. “I think so. It was dark. She was tall, had on high heels.”

“That’s my—”

“Crazy ex. Yes, she said you’d say that. But that she’s not. That you’ve been leading a double life and you two were happy together.”

I set the phone down her on rolling food tray and sit on the edge of her bed. I don’t touch her, but I look into her face. “And what do you believe?”

She bites her lip and lifts one shoulder weakly. “I don’t know, Carter. She was pretty convincing.”

“And when have I had time to lead a double life? Huh?” I ask, on the verge of deranged laughter. “I spend every spare moment with you, and when we’re not together, I’m working.”

“I know... Christa pointed that out. I’m just confused and it hurt me. How did she even find me?” she mutters.

“Richelle is very resourceful and is also mental. She probably followed me when I dropped you off one time. Who knows? I’ll be calling my attorney to get a restraining order for the both of us from her.”

Taryn looks up at me, a spark of hope in her eyes. “Really?”

Something dawns on me, so I pick up my phone from the desk. I blocked her number but I still have the texts. I pull them up and hand her the phone. “Read those.”

Staring at me, she slowly takes it from me, seeming hesitant to read them, but eventually she does.

“She says she’s pregnant right here in this text,” she points out.

I resist an immature eyeroll and say, “Keep reading.”

She reads the multiple lines of texts aloud:

“My sister’s getting married in September and I’m the maid of honor! Will you come with me? I need a date.

“I hope your bridesmaid dress fits since you’ll be big as a house by then.”

She shoots me a judgmental look.

“Go on,” I say.

“I’m not pregnant anymore. I lost the baby. Due to stress since you wouldn’t do anything to help me. I was in the hospital, you know.

“Well, seven months along is pretty far along to lose the baby. Do you have a death certificate?

“I was only two months along!

“Sorry to hear that. I hope you told the father of the baby, since it wasn’t me.”

Taryn looks at me. “Two months along?”

“Taryn, Richelle and I broke up six months before that conversation. Not only could she not have been pregnant with my child, I don’t believe she ever was pregnant at all.” I stand up. “And, well, if she is now, it’s not my problem. She’s a borderline stalker and I’m honestly not surprised at all she pulled this BS.”

“She did seem a little unhinged.”

I chuckle. “That’s a perfect word to describe her.”

“Wait a second. Let me see something.” She scrolls up the texts and I see her clicking on a video.

Crap.

“Maybe you shouldn’t watch that,” I say, trying to snatch the phone but she pulls it out of reach.

“This is me with my friends that night you showed up. That’s how you knew I was at the club drinking? This psycho was there filming me?” She shudders. “That’s so gross and creepy. How did she even know me?”

“When you say she’s unhinged, you’re not wrong. She recognized your picture from the photo of Eric and me with you at your graduation. She’s utterly obsessed with me and knew Eric went to prison and that you’re his sister.”

She looks at me speculatively then down at the video.

“Do you believe me?”

She hands me back the phone. “Yeah.” She blows out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

I sit back on the bed and put my hands on her face. “Sorry for what?”

“For ghosting you. Kinda. I... I just didn’t know what to think. I knew you’d say she was your crazy ex because that’s what she said you’d say.” She smiles with tears in her eyes. “But you brought receipts and now I want to go beat her ass.”

Chuckling, I rub my finger along her jaw. “No, the restraining order will piss her off enough, trust me. I’m calling my attorney as soon as you get your fine ass back to work.” I lean down, remove her oxygen mask, and kiss her softly. I’m relieved when she kisses me back. “I love you, Taryn. I always will. Please don’t forget that. I will always be honest and upfront with you. You don’t even have to doubt me. Cheaters are disgusting. I’m not like that. I never will be.”

“I love you, too. Thank you.”

I kiss her on the forehead and smooth her hair down. “You look beautiful.”

She chuckles lightly. “Right.”

“Tell me what happened.” I point to the oxygen mask, the machine it’s attached to making occasionally hissing noises.

She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Drank too much wine, fell asleep at my mom’s, knowing I couldn’t drive home, woke up in the ER.”

“Were you alone at your mom’s?” I ask, suspicious.

“Christa and I were drinking on the patio, she left, I fell asleep. Apparently, she forgot her phone and drove back an hour later. I’m not sure how she even went that long realizing it was missing since it’s usually attached to her hand. She couldn’t get in so she went around back where I’d fortunately left the sunroom’s door open and the door to the house unlocked. She grabbed her phone but saw me on the floor and rushed inside. She couldn’t wake me. Then she called 911.”

I stare at her in horror. “So basically if she hadn’t forgotten her phone, you’d be dead right now. Dead!”

“I guess when you put it that way,” she jokes weakly.

“This isn’t funny, Taryn. Why aren’t there carbon monoxide detectors in the house? That’s so fucking irresponsible!” I snap.

“Calm down, geez. There are, the batteries are dead. It’s not like anyone lives there, we don’t remember to change them every six months at daylight savings time.”

“That’s it. I’m calling a Safety company and having them and Smart smoke detectors professionally installed. Is it even safe to go back in the house?” I ask, pulling out my phone to start searching for Safety companies.

“No, the city has to clear it before any humans or animals can go back in,” she answers.

“Perfect, then you’re staying with me,” I say.

She laughs. “I have my own condo.”

“You’re not responsible enough to live alone apparently. So no, you’re staying with me.”

“Carter—”

I hold up a hand. “I’ll grab some clothes. When are you getting out of here?”

“Today, I think.”

A nurse in pink scrubs holding an electronic tablet walks in. “How are you feeling, Taryn?”

“Better. A little weak.”

“Gonna check your vitals.

I watch as the lady listens to her heart and lungs and checks her pulse from the machine that she’s hooked up to.

“Your oxygen sat is rising nicely.”

“Can I go home today?” Taryn asks.

“Once your oxygen is close to one hundred, yes.”

I look over to see it at 85.

“I’d say it’s a safe bet,” the older nurse says with a wink.

“Thanks,” I tell her as she leaves.

I kiss Taryn on the head. “Where are your keys? I’m going to go grab some stuff from your condo.”

“Since I know you won’t take no for an answer, they’re in the cabinet in my purse. And can you bring me my phone and charger?”

I open the cabinet and just hand her the whole purse. “Definitely charge that thing up. Scared me half to death.” I pull her keys out and head for the door.

“Carter?”

“Yeah,” I ask as I head toward the door

“If you ever do cheat on me, I’ll make Richelle look like Mother Theresa.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

I just chuckle. Right. Taryn doesn’t have an unhinged bone in her body.

After packing a bag of stuff for Taryn at her condo, I load it into my car and head back toward the hospital.

First, I call Briana.

“Hey, Ms. Andrews got carbon monoxide poisoning, so she’s in the hospital.”

“Oh, my gosh! Is she okay?” Briana asks.

“Yes, can you let Lisa know? Have her get a card and some flowers or something for her. She’ll probably be back in a couple of days, but I’ll be off the rest of the day, I’m picking her up from the hospital.”

“You got it, boss. Tell her we hope she gets better soon and you have a nice night.”

“You, too.”

I end the call and then dial my attorney, Amos. His secretary answers, then puts me through to him.

“Carter, what’s up, man?” he answers.

“I need a restraining order. Actually, I need two.”

He chuckles. “Had enough of the woman?”

The first time she told me she was pregnant, I’d contacted Amos and he suggested the restraining order. I’d told him that was ridiculous. Guess I’m eating crow now.

“Two?” he asks.

“Yes, she’s stalking my soon-to-be fiancée. Cornered her at her condo, spitting all kinds of vitriol and lies. I’m fucking done, Amos.”

“Well, congratulations,” he says.

I smile like an idiot. “Well, she hasn’t said yes yet. Still gotta propose, but I need this trash taken care of so I can do it with a clear conscience.”

“Okay. I’ll need all your girlfriend’s personal information emailed over to me and I’ll have my paralegal file the paperwork this afternoon.”

I sigh in relief. “You da best.”

“I got you,” he says with a smile in his voice. “I’ll have the court documents emailed over as soon as the clerk puts their seal of approval on them.”

“Thanks.”

I end the call, feeling relief on so many levels.

Next order of business: The ring and a hopeful She said yes post I could make on social media.