HELL ON EARTH
Donovan hadn't been aware of much since he arrived. He was solely focused on Larkin, but he had yet to hear anything. Vaguely, he looked up when the front doors opened. He was more than stunned to see the members of his team. How in the hell did they find out? It didn't take long for him to realize that Alex had probably called them when he asked to borrow her car. Had he said anything about Larkin? He felt two ways at once, irritated and grateful. He knew they were aware of his and Larkin's relationship [what relationship… you just fucked up good and proper], but he had never elaborated about anything that was going on. They're here to offer you support, you idiot.
"How did you know," Donovan asked.
"We heard about the accident on the news," Alex said, "but when you asked for my car, you said you were going out to search for Selena. Have you heard anything?"
He shook his head, but said nothing. Please Selena, pull through this. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. Donovan couldn't push out the images of his crumpled car. How in the hell could she make it out of that alive and well? God, what he wouldn't give for another chance with her, for another chance to keep her safe and sound in his apartment. Regardless of the harsh words, the hurt, he loved her so very much. Alex, Jake, Cody, and Monica took seats at various corners of the room. They weren't just here for him; they had come for Larkin as well. All of them knew her, but she was closest to Cody and Monica. He wanted to get up and pace about the room, but he couldn't move a muscle. As soon as the shock wore off, he would hunt tirelessly for whoever had done this to Larkin. For now, he would remain static and calm for her.
After an hour or more, Donovan looked up when he noticed a stony faced attending physician. "Are you here for Selena Larkin?"
Donovan stood suddenly and approached the doctor. "Yes." He held his breath and waited for the news, praying desperately that it was good. "How is she? Is she okay?"
"You are?"
He sighed. Who am I to her? After our conversation earlier, I'm not sure if I'm anything to her. If he didn't stretch the truth, he would receive no news at all. "We're engaged." He couldn't see the looks on the faces of his team members, but he figured they were relatively shocked to say the least.
The man nodded. "I'll give you a run down. She has several facial lacerations and abrasions that should heal with minimal scarring. She has a sprained wrist, two broken fingers, severe whiplash, and several bruised ribs. Basically, the seatbelt and the airbag saved her life. There was some bleeding that concerned us, but we discovered that it was due to a miscarriage. I'm sorry, we did all we could, but it was too late."
Donovan had taken all of it in, but the moment he heard the word 'miscarriage,' his mind stopped working completely. Had he simply imagined that he'd heard it? He blinked stupidly at the doctor. He looked like a small child who had been given an ice cream cone with no clue as to what to do with it. "She…she was pregnant?" He felt the room spinning all around him as if he had stepped into a deep vortex. He finally understood why she had been so damn sick and moody. With that revelation came the sudden knowledge that she had lost the baby. Why didn't she tell me? Why did she make me wait until this horrible moment to know? He had to sit down for a minute, if he didn't, he thought he might fall down instead. He chose the nearest chair and plopped his body into it. Maybe she intended to tell you tonight before you broke her heart, you jackass. See what you lost because of your idiocy? When he looked up, he noticed that the physician was still standing before him, as if waiting for him to speak. He wasn't aware of any damn thing, not the shocked/worried looks on the faces of his team members, the sound of people passing by him, or the PA system paging various doctors and nurses. For so many months, he had loved her, had made love to her, and it had taken no more than seventy-two hours to fuck it all up. "When can I see her," he asked.
"Tomorrow. She isn't conscious right now and we need to keep her calm for at least a few more hours."
* * *
The car was coming toward her at an alarmingly fast pace. She had her foot on the accelerator, because she knew it was about to smack her in the rear. Being sick had slowed down her reflexes, she couldn't steer the car back into traffic soon enough. She gave the car some gas anyway. If that car hit her at its current rate of speed, she would not survive. The car rammed into the rear of hers, and she completely lost control of it. It weaved and wobbled for miles. The air bag then disengaged itself, and she felt the sudden rush of air as it slammed against her. She immediately took her foot off the gas, but that only helped a little. Taking her hands off the wheel, she allowed the car to go its own way. There was nothing she could do to stop it. It made a complete roll over and settled on its wheels. For a moment, she could hear nothing but the overwhelming sound of screeching metal and shattering glass. Trapped in the twisted remains of the car, she watched vaguely as the vehicle that had run her off the road slipped slowly past her. There was a young man behind the wheel. She wanted to ask him why he had done this to her, but she couldn't speak. Am I alive? Did I die? He did not stop to check on her, but she could have sworn she saw him sneering her way, sneering and shaking his head in disbelief. She knew little or nothing after that as she slipped in and out of consciousness. The only sound that brought her out of it was the ear splitting whine of machinery. She had then felt the sensation of being lifted in the air and laid out on something hard and unyielding. She lost a bit of time and the next thing she knew, she was in an ambulance. She thought she saw Donovan's face looming above her at one point. Impossible. How would he have found her? She had almost forgotten the scene that played out before them, and when it tweaked her nerves, she closed her eyes. She couldn't look at him, not yet, not until she got past the hurt and devastation. She had begun to wonder if that was even possible. Everything after that was a gigantic blur. She felt pain and pokes and prods before blackness surrounded her again.
* * *
Although he was physically and emotionally exhausted, Donovan refused to go home. When Larkin was allowed visitors early the next morning, he entered the room and took a chair near her bed. She was either still out cold or ignoring him. He'd tried contacting members of her family earlier, but wound up leaving messages on half a dozen answering machines. Donovan sat at her bedside, incredibly close to tears, having brief and painful flashbacks of when Taryn died. However, this seemed so much worse for him. There was no doubt that Larkin would live, but she had lost a baby, their baby, and she had failed to tell him she was pregnant. For several weeks, she had been ill, and had become angered whenever he mentioned that she should see a doctor. Now, he completely understood why. He waited and watched, wondering when she would open her eyes and look at him. He had no doubt that she would demand that he leave her room, but he had a few heartbreaking questions of his own. Donovan stood suddenly and went into the tiny bathroom. He splashed his face with cold water for a few moments and then blotted it dry. He couldn't immediately return to the room.
Larkin moaned a little when her eyes came open slowly. They felt sticky and hot. There were a thousand aches and pains attacking her at once, the worst in her chest and abdomen. Uh. What did I hit? Her neck felt as if it was encased in foam and then she realized she more than likely had whiplash or something. There was no one in the room with her, and for a moment, that thought saddened her above all others. Her first thought, of course, was Donovan. Where the hell was he? After what you said to him, do you think he would come back to you? She moaned again. Did she even want him to come to her? Her eyes moved to the small bathroom as she watched the door opening. Donovan was with her after all. She closed her eyes and ran her tongue over her lips. She didn't know if she was ready to talk to him just yet. She hoped he hadn't noticed her moving. When he approached the bedside and sat down again, she realized he had not. Good. I can have a few minutes to collect myself before I look at him. I want to be angry, I want to hate him, but I just can't. Why is that? All he has to do is touch me, and it's over. As if reading her mind, his hand reached out and fell gently onto hers. She was so startled that she nearly reacted, but she remained still and unmoving. He took her otherwise limp hand into his. Let me go, I can't stand this, Frank. Let me go so I don't have to betray what my head is telling me to do. How long could she play this game before she gave in to him? She was so angry that she wanted to rip his heart out of his chest, but she couldn't do it. She loved him too much. Donovan had yet to look at her, his eyes were focused on her hand, waiting for her to show some signs of life.
"Selena," he said softly, "I know you're awake and I know you can hear me. Right now, you probably hate me, but it still doesn't excuse what you did. Why didn't you tell me?"
It took extreme strength and will for her not to raise up and start screaming at him. What the hell kind of asshole was he to suggest that she had lied to him about anything? If her fucking neck didn't hurt like a bitch, she would come off the bed and pummel his smug ass into the ground. Perhaps he could be laid out in the room next door to hers. The sheer incredulity that she felt forced her eyes to open and focus on his face. He was startled at the sudden way she came awake. He immediately released her hand. She looked up and over at him, her jaw set and determined. "What are you talking about," she asked, her husky voice barely above a whisper. "Why didn't I tell you what?"
Donovan stared at her for a long time. A dawning realization hit him very, very slowly. More than once in his life, he had stuck his foot in his mouth, and today, he had done so up to his knee. You've hurt her again, you stupid fucker. He had pointed a finger at her before he had even thought it out. Now, he was faced with the difficulty of explaining what the hell he meant, and he didn't know if he had the balls to do it. Carefully, cautiously, he asked, "You didn't…know?"
She noted the shock on his face, the fact that he looked as if he was just about to pass out. She hadn't seen him like this before. It was terrifying and she didn't like it a bit. "I didn't know what, Frank? What the hell are you talking about?"
Part of him was tempted to let it pass. Wouldn't she be better off without knowing? However, he could not hide from her, couldn't lie. If she found out on her own [which she most likely would], it would be yet one more strike against him [as if he didn't already have enough]. "Oh God," he said, nearly moaning. He didn't want to be the one to tell her, but it was better that it was him and not the uncaring face of an attending physician. "Selena, the reason you were sick didn't have anything to do with the flu," he began slowly, painfully. "You…you were pregnant, but you lost the baby when you crashed."
She didn't stop looking at him for a long time. She sat and digested his words, drew them in, and tore them apart to make sense of them. In those six or seven weeks, she had never once suspected pregnancy. However, one of her co-worker girlfriends had commented about it one morning while she had been in the bathroom puking her guts up. Selena, I think you should see a doctor. Maybe you're pregnant. She had laughed it off, of course. Pregnant, yeah right. Whatever. "I was pregnant? I…I lost the baby…our baby?" He said nothing. He nodded and kept his eyes on her face. He wanted to reach for her, but she wasn't receptive. "I lost a baby…I…" She could say nothing else. Although the movement sent a jolting pain through her body, she turned to her side. It was too much, it was all too much.
Knowing that he'd probably pay for it later, Donovan moved quickly, gently climbing into her hospital bed, mindful of her injuries. He couldn't hold back any longer. He had to hold her, had to love her as long as she would allow him. She was crying silently, desperately trying to hide her face. He could sense she wanted to kick him out, to scream at him, perhaps, but she had little strength to do any of that. Her body was unyielding and rigid. He ached to wrap his arms around her, but he was afraid he'd hurt her further. Instead, he laid his hand on her arm. The moment he touched her, she sighed a little, ending it with a long string of sobs that shook her entire body. He enveloped her with his body, desperately trying to give her all his strength, warmth, and love.
* * *
After she had cried herself to sleep, Donovan pulled away and went back to the chair beside the bed. He didn't think the hospital staff would appreciate his lying in bed with her. He was inclined not to give a ripe fuck, but he didn't want to rock the boat. He still didn't know what she would do once she woke up. He would do anything in his power to prove to her that nothing had happened between him and Devere. Actually, he would do anything she wanted. He watched her sleep for a few hours before she finally sighed a little and carefully turned onto her back. There was a grimace of pain on her face that fell away as soon as she completed her turn. She had yet to open her eyes. For the second time today, he wondered if she were hiding from him again. He should have gotten up right that moment and left her, but he couldn't. Just as she opened her eyes and made ready to speak, the door came open, and a nurse entered. Donovan drew away to give the nurse room. He needed the chance to stretch his legs, but he hadn't wanted to leave her side. After five minutes or so, the nurse left, and Donovan went back to his chair. He opened his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door sounded off. Damn it. The door came open a few seconds later and three people entered that Donovan hadn't ever seen before. He received his answer when Larkin muttered 'Mom,' 'Dad,' 'Kraig.' They were all members of her family, none of whom he'd ever met. He noticed that she looked more like her father than her mother, as did her brother. Larkin had told him about her family and the fact that she was the youngest, but he'd never seen pictures of them.
This was not the best time in the world for introductions and Donovan felt a bit awkward and out of place. Larkin's family gazed at Donovan curiously, waiting for her to tell them that this man was the one she had transferred from D.C. to be with. Larkin said nothing; she hiked up her hospital bed, and allowed her family to approach her. There were hugs and kisses shared all around. Larkin finally fixed her gray eyes on Donovan and he saw extreme pain in them. "This is Frank," she said softly, her voice no louder than a whisper.
Although he wasn't feeling up to it, he greeted her family and accepted their handshakes and half-hugs. They'd heard a lot about him and were finally glad they had met him. He made himself scarce after that to allow them some privacy. Donovan went out into the waiting room and noticed that Cody and Monica had returned.
"How is she," Cody asked.
"She's going to be fine," he said vacantly. He wanted to elaborate no further. They had all heard that Larkin had been pregnant and they were curious, but they wouldn't press for information. "I want the police report for the accident. I want to know if there were any witnesses. If there were, I want them found and brought to me. I know this is a personal endeavor, but I need this information, do you understand?"
* * *
Several hours later, Donovan returned to the hospital. He hadn't wanted to leave, but Cody and Monica persuaded him to go home for a while to rest and get a change of clothing. When he entered the waiting room, he ran into Larkin's family as they prepared to leave for their hotel. He didn't want to face them, not after what he'd put their daughter through.
"Mr. Donovan," Larkin's father began, "I'm glad we were finally able to meet you. Selena has spoken very highly and fondly of you."
I'm sure she did until I shattered her heart into a trillion pieces. If you knew the real truth, you'd probably kick my ass. "Thank you," he said. "Me too."
They left not long after the brief exchange and Donovan found his hand going to the nape of his neck. He made his way toward Larkin's room and hoped to find her awake. If he didn't speak to her soon, he thought he might have a fit. When he entered the room, Larkin was still awake and watching television. She had yet to lower her bed flat. She knew he had come in, but she didn't look his way. He approached her bedside and grabbed the empty chair and pulled it around beside her.
"Selena, will you talk to me," he asked, his voice low and almost raspy.
He sounded as if he had been outside screaming at the top of his lungs. "I'll talk," she said, her voice just as low and raspy.
Donovan closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and opened them. When he focused them on her face, she had yet to make eye contact with him. He reached out and took her hand, completely expecting her to deny his touch, but she didn't. "I'll do everything in my power to make it up to you, to convince you. I'll do everything in my power to find out who did this to you. You may not believe it any longer, but I love you so very much, and I want to find who hurt you, who hurt us. Please, Selena, believe me, I didn't touch her. I wouldn't touch her."
She rolled her eyes and felt fresh tears falling down her cheeks. "This is all too much for me right now, okay," she said shakily. "I've had lots of shit piled onto me in the last couple of days, and it hurts, Frank, it really hurts. I'm sorry for what I said to you before I left. It was cruel and unwarranted. I just can't…can't deal with it all right this second. Is that okay? We…we can sort it out in a few days. Can you let me do that?"
His heart aching tremendously, he nodded sedately. "I can." He started to pull away from her, but she held fast onto his hand.
"I didn't say I wanted you to go," she said, fixing her eyes on his face. "I just don't want to talk about anything."
He nodded. "Okay, we don't have to, not until you're ready," he said.
"Frank, I really need you to kiss me," she said.
"And I really need to do it."
He brought his lips to hers gently, but needed so much more. However, he wouldn't push her, he would never push her.
____________________
To be continued…