Innings and Kissing- Chapter 3

Brett glanced at Stacey in the passenger seat of his SUV. She stared straight ahead of her, out the windows, but he knew she wasn’t looking at anything.

Her face was blank, unreadable, and it tore through his soul to imagine what kind of pain she was going through.

All he wanted to do was pull over and hold her, stroke her hair and tell her everything was going to be okay. But he knew, the pain was familair to him. To hold on to someone, so close, and have them slip through your fingers, and because he knew, he kept driving.

He picked up the hand he had at two, and put it to his chest. He felt the familair risings of the beaded rosary he had worn everyday since his father passed away.

Going through a tunnel, she closed her eyes for a brief moment, and when she opened them, he saw the tears that threatened to spill.

“What’s your favorite animal?” he asked her, stepping on the pedal a little faster.

She clutched the door handle so hard, her knuckles turned white. He slowed down some.

The look on her face told him she was confused, but she went along with it.

“Panthers,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“They’re dangerous and beautiful.”

Everything she was, he thought.

He glanced at his watch and the hospital came into view. It was nearing Midnight.
 
This is certainly not how Cinderella spent her evening.

He found a place near the emergency exit and parked.

 Before she had the chance to even take off her seatbelt, he was around to her side and opening the door.

“Jeeze Godzilla, put some stairs on this thing,” she said, "We’re not all tall.”

He smiled at her ability to joke at even the toughest of times.
 
Stacey Daniels did things to him and he was scared.

Stacey took steps slowly, almost as if she was scared of the hospital. The only reason why she kept putting one foot in front the other was because she needed to see her mom.

“Whoever came up the idea that a hospital was a sexy place, obviously didn’t know what they were talking about,” she said out loud.

Off colored white walls and floors stretched for as long as she could see, she felt like a mouse in maze with no way out. The smell of death practically clung to the walls, and she started to walk out.
 
At that moment, a hard mass object come up behind her.
 
Brett Daniels was a walking bull.

She thought he might’ve confused basbell for basketball. Or sumo wrestling.

She let herself this one moment of warmth, just this one brief moment. She felt his massive arms, every individual muscle of his abdomen and pectorals. She felt a long and thick object in her back. For a second she felt complete and utter bliss before she bounced back to reality. He bent over and she felt his breath on her ear.

“Keep walking Stacey,” he said,”I know it’s hard, but just keep walking.”

To anyone else it looked like a lovers’ caress, but to her it meant so much more. It gave her strength, and it gave her warmth in places that had been too cold for too long.

Brett Daniels was a danger to her sanity, and to her heart, but at the moment, she couldn’t find a reason to care.

The only noise she heard were the clicks of her heels and Brett’s heavy thumps. She made another mental note to thank him for picking them up on their way out.

A small blonde that had far too much makeup on was sitting at the counter. Her jaw practically dropped the moment Brett stepped up to the counter. It took everything in Stacey, for her not to roll her eyes.

“Uh, can I, uh, help you?” the little blonde stammered, never leaving Brett’s gaze.

She couldn’t blame the nurse, she knew the capability of his beauty.

“Mary Phillips,” Brett said, “What room?”

He smiled at the petite blonde, and it made her want to tell him where he should a baseball bat.

“Uh, 213. It’s family only.”

He glanced at Stacey and smiled, making her forget her anger, momentarily.

“It’s her mother,” said Brett with a cock of his head, “And she’s my wife.”

Stacey’s eyes widened, she tried to stammer something out, but before she could, Brett thanked the girl and walked down the hall.

“What the hell was that?” she asked as they took a turn.

He stopped her infront of a room with whiteboard attached to the door.

Mary Phillips was written on it.

Stacey's heart stuttered a bit.

“I’m not letting you do this alone,” he stated.

“I don’t need you, Brett, I’m a big girl," she argued, "I'm a big girl."

“Like, hell," he bit out.

She wanted to say something else, fight for her independence, but she honestly didn’t have the energy.

Brett watched Stacey knock on the door before dissapearing into the room. Almost as if the blonde had sensed he was alone, she came into the hallway.

“The waiting room is this way,” she said, pointing to a room across the hall.

He was relieved that he could still see the room. He flashed her one of his lady killer smiles and trudged that way.

The blonde followed.

He took a seat nearest the door and she took one a few seats away.

“Mandy,” she said and smiled at him. Her teeth were overly bleached.

“Brett,” he murmurred.

“So where’s your wife?” she asked, emphasizing the last word.

“With her mother.”

“And your ring?”

She nodded at his left hand.

“I had them custom made, she deserves the very best.”

He didn’t like lying, but half of that was true.

“Well, good for you two.” she said and dissapeared in a huff.

A half an hour later he heard the familair clicks of Stacey’s heels. He got up so quickly, his vision blurred. But he didn’t care.

In a few steps he was next to her, and she gave him a meek smile.

“She’s okay. Doctor said she’ll be out in a few days.”

Her face was blank. He didn’t know what to do. A teardrop landed on the top of her breast as she put a hand against the wall and let her forehead rest against it.

“I almost lost her,” she said, in a whipser so soft he barely heard it.

He wanted to tell her everything was okay, but he didn’t. All he did was take her into his arms. He crushed her body against his as they slid down the wall. He wasn’t sure where her body ended and where his started. All he knew was that he would make sure she was okay.

At that moment in time he knew one thing for a fact.

If she needed anything he’ll be the one to give it to her.
Her sobs were loud, but he knew she needed to cry. Her face was in his neck and he was rocking her in his lap. He felt her arms go under his jacket and around his chest.

“Thank you, Irish.” she muffled into his neck.

He kissed the top of her head,”Let’s get you home.”

Before she had the chance to answer, he stood up and carried her to his car and drove home.