Lauren Dane - Drawn Together

He stood, draining the cup. “On it. Thank you, Erin.”

“Don’t be mad at her. She does the best she can.”

He shook his head. “I’m not mad at her.” He was frantic to get to her.

He rushed out, making a call to his assistant to get him on the next possible flight and a suite at the hotel Raven was staying at. One with a bedroom that had a lock on the door. 

She’d finally been able to get permission to visit her mother the following day. It had been harder than she’d thought, getting that permission. One of her doctors wanted to meet with Raven first, so she’d do that first thing. They’d done a check on her as well.

Bonnie and Mike had offered to come back to be with her when she visited. They only lived an hour from the hospital and had invited her to stay awhile when she was ready.

She might do it.

She did decline their offer to be with her when she visited her mother. She needed to do it alone. She had enough baggage with Mike and Bonnie that she wanted all her energy to be on her mother first. Then she’d deal with them.

She picked up her phone and dialed Jonah before she talked herself out of it. He’d left several messages for her. At first she’d been too busy to reply, and then Mike had come in and turned everything on its ear. But Carrie had still been visiting and she’d be damned if she messed up the visit with all this stuff.

But she knew Carrie was due to go back that day. And God help her, she’d become used to him in her life. Needed him.

She got his voice mail this time though.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called you back. I hope you got Carrie to the airport and she’s back in Italy already. I’m away right now. I found out . . . I found out my mother is still alive. I know, right? I can’t . . . I don’t know much more than that right now. I’m in Oklahoma City now. They’re letting me see her tomorrow. I don’t know if I’ll have any more information after I see her. She’s mentally ill. After this, I’m heading to Happy Bend to confront my aunt about everything. About why they lied. I’ll call you when I can. Please don’t worry. I miss you.”

She hung up and watched television aimlessly for a while as she huddled under the covers. Finally, she headed into the shower to warm up.

She was drying her hair when she heard a knock on the door. She needed to eat, but she hadn’t called room service yet.

Pulling her robe on, she headed to the door and looked through the peephole.

Her heart stopped as she yanked the door open and Jonah came into the room, pulling her into a hug, kicking the door closed in his wake.

He smelled good. Familiar. Safe. He held her tight, reminding her she was all right. Everything was fine and she would make it through. He was there for her. Because he loved her.

“I don’t deserve you,” she said as she buried her nose in his neck.

“Says you. I think you deserve me just fine. Why didn’t you tell me, baby? You’ve been alone for two days dealing with this?”

“Not entirely alone. Erin and Brody know some of it. I flew here with Mike Thompson. Anyway, I didn’t want to bug you while Carrie was here. She’s your first priority and that’s how it should be. I left a message for you a few hours ago.”

“I know. I came straight from the airport. Come on. Let’s get you packed up. I have a bigger room for us on a higher floor. It’s got a separate bedroom with a lock on the door. I can sleep on the couch. But there’s no way we’re not being together tonight.”

She swallowed hard. “You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I want to try. I want you with me. I’ve missed you so much.”

“No pressure. We’ll take it slow and if you have a problem, we’ll do what we normally do.”

He helped as she tossed her clothes back into her suitcase. He’d expected her to argue about it, but she didn’t. She looked small and sad and it tore at him. She tossed all her toiletries in the bag as well, which he then took from her.

“Leave the robe on, we’re only going up a few floors.”

She nodded and allowed him to shuffle her out, holding his hand.

He nearly drowned in the emotion of seeing her need him so much. The way she’d held on so tight, his strong, independent Raven. Pride filled him that he made her feel better. Guilt that she’d not come to him, out of her need to protect him and his daughter.

It was he who didn’t deserve her. But he wasn’t giving her back so that was that. On their floor, he opened the door and ushered her in. The room wasn’t bad and he’d turned the heat on, knowing she tended to get cold. Outside it was sleeting. He’d white-knuckled it on the way from the airport, praying it would hold off until he’d arrived. Thankfully it started just as he’d made his way off the highway.

“Get some socks on.” He put her bags in the bedroom and her toiletries in the bathroom. When he came out he saw she’d snuggled up on the couch in the main room.

“How about some hot chocolate? Or tea? Have you been sleeping well? Stupid question.”

She took a deep breath and blurted out, “Do you want to know? The story, I mean?”

He sat with her. Saw the strain on her features. He wanted to know so very much, but he knew it was stressful for her to relive it too. “Yes. But first, have you eaten? You look pale and a little thin.”

“It’s only been two days.”

“Don’t get peevish with me, missy. It’s been four since we connected and two before that since I actually saw you. I’m agitated that you’ve been alone dealing with this as it is. Now, you look pale and if I know you, you’ve been running yourself ragged. Have you eaten?”

She smiled and it made him feel better. “I was getting ready to order food up when you came. You came.” She blinked away tears and he pulled her legs up into his lap.

“I did. I will always be here for you. Get that through your head right now.” He leaned to grab the room service menu and flip through it. She needed taking care of and he was going to do just that.

“Anything good?”

She nodded. “Get the pie. I had the lemon meringue last night.”

He grinned. “All right. What else?”

“I want the chicken and potatoes. They’re real, not that powdered stuff. A bowl of soup, whatever they have is fine. And pie.”

He called it all up, adding the French dip for himself with some extras and a few beers.

“They said about half an hour.”

“Erin said to me, when she dropped me at the airport, that secrets hurt. And that it was time I let go of the stuff that was hurting me. You’ve been patient, letting me tell you on my own terms. You can’t know what that means to me.”

“I love you. There’s nothing else I can do. It means so much that you’d share. I know it’s not easy.” He took her hand.

“It’s not pretty either.”

“It’s not on you. You understand that, right? The stuff that happened to you when you were growing up was not your fault. I don’t think that and I want you to stop it too.”

“I’m trying. So when I was ten or so, my mom came back to town and we made a go of it for a while. She had a job at the grocery store. We had a little one-bedroom apartment over the hardware store. It wasn’t fancy, but she was with me.

“And then she just wasn’t. She didn’t come home. Two days later she hadn’t come home and we were out of food and her boss came over and saw I was on my own and they called child services. Again. They put me in foster care, this time in the next town over, Harperville. A few months later my aunt, my mom’s sister, came to the school and told me my mother had overdosed and died. I didn’t know enough then to ask any real questions. I just knew for sure that I’d never have a home. My great-grandmother was too sick to take me in and as I said, my other relatives wouldn’t. Later, when I was sixteen or so, I confronted her—my aunt, I mean. I wanted details. It had been a . . . rough time for me. She told me my mother had died after selling herself for a dirty bag of heroin. That they’d found her body in the gutter where she’d belonged.”

He sucked in a breath, trying hard not to let his rage show. She didn’t need that.

“So you know, I came out to L.A. that next year after I’d saved up every cent I could, believing my mother had abandoned me. Believing no one wanted me.” Emotion made her voice thick. He squeezed her hand tight. He wanted her.

“So two days ago one of my foster fathers came into the shop. He’d been looking for me—and I’ll tell you that story after we eat. Anyway, he and his wife had been looking for me. But first, they found my mother. Who wasn’t dead at all, but in a mental institution where she’d been for years.”

Her voice broke.

“I thought I’d cried it all out of my system. God knows I’ve probably gotten dehydrated from it since I found out. Anyway, she’s had a lifetime of trouble. They knew it, Jonah. My family knew she was alive and they told me she was dead and had abandoned me. I don’t understand why. Anyway, Mike and Bonnie visited her a few weeks ago. They had told her I was dead too. Back when I was fifteen. I can’t even tell you. She tried to kill herself then. And several times since. That’s why she’s here. She’s a self-harm risk and I guess the usual treatments don’t work on her. She asked them to find me and tell me she was alive and wanted to see me.”

He blew out a breath. “Wow. That’s some soap opera shit right there.”

“I know. I’ve been reeling. Everything I thought about my childhood, well, it’s not the same. None of it is what I thought and I don’t know how to process it. So I’ve been avoiding processing it. I feel like if I really face it I’m going to fall the fuck apart. What if I’m crazy too? Schizophrenia runs in families. I’ve got a family full of addicts and fuckups. What if it’s in me right now, just waiting?”