Page 125 of Hidden

Peter reached for the remote and flipped the TV to UNN. A familiar face appeared on his television screen.

“That’s right Jim, at least eight girls were rescued from the Doll House Cabaret and authorities around the country are saying dozens more women have been rescued from other adult entertainment clubs. I had the privilege of sitting down with one of those rescued girls just this morning. Daughter of UNN editor Tom Neiland. I’ll be airing the full interview tonight on my show, but here’s just a sample of some of the things we talked about.”

The feed cut to a clip of Gina sitting down with Lola Neiland, but Peter tuned it out. He felt like a complete and total jackass. His eyes scanned the room searching for his personal belongings. A small plastic bag sat on the bedside table. What he wanted was inside. It was a struggle, but he managed to pull it toward him and take out his phone. He had no idea what to say, but he knew he had to say something. In the end, he sent two words.

I’m sorry.

As he hit send, the pain medication took hold and he drifted off to sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but he had vague memories of people coming in and out as he slept. He woke sometime later feeling a little clearer headed, but he felt warm and crowded in the bed. He reached for the bed rail to sit himself up and came into contact with soft hair. He turned his head and his heart stopped. Carrie was laying next to him. Her wrist caught his eye. What looked like the belt to a bathrobe was attached to it. His eyes followed the length of it and tears threatened to fall. The crazy woman had attached herself to his damn hospital bed.

He gently nudged her.

“Wake up, little one,” he murmured in her ear. When she turned to face him, there were tears in her eyes.

“Thank God you’re OK,” she said, her voice trembling.

Peter pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry I was such a fucking asshole.”

Carrie shook her head. “Don’t be. Ripley told me what happened. I stepped into a minefield and didn’t realize it. You were a jerk, but I understand, and I still love you.”

He took his good arm away from her waist and reached for her wrist. “Let’s get this off of you, crazy girl.”

It took a bit of work, but he untied it with a single hand. “I’m surprised the nurse let you get away with that.”

Carrie giggled. “I think Gage and Ripley have intimidated the hell out of all the nurses on this floor. We could probably have sex and they wouldn’t stop us.”

Peter lifted an eyebrow. “You wanna?”

Carrie laughed and smacked his arm.

“How’s Reggie?” he asked as their laughter died down.

When Carrie’s face fell, Peter felt his stomach drop.No. Not Reggie.

“I’m so sorry, Peter. Reggie didn’t make it.”

Peter buried his face in her shirt and let his grief pour out while Carrie held him. After a few minutes, he sat up a little more and she handed him some tissue for his eyes. Carrie filled him in on everything that went down. When she finished her story, the room fell silent.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. “I know you say it’s OK, but I need to know you forgive me.”

“I do. I forgive you. You mean too much to me Peter. We both have a lot of learning and growing to do, but I’m willing if you are.”

There was a knock on the door and a familiar redhead stuck her head in the door. “Am I interrupting?”

Carrie dropped her gaze and Peter looked between them. Had something happened?

“Carrie, I’m so sorry. I got wrapped up with Damion for a few days. Things got really intense but when I saw the news I left and came straight here. Please forgive me?”

Carrie bit her lip and held out her arms. “Come here. I can’t stay mad at you but not having you with me through this really fucking hurt.”

Darci ran in to Carrie’s arms and they both squeezed each other tight.

“I can’t stay long. I have to get back to work. Just… thank you for not hating me. And Peter, I’m so glad you’re OK.”

***

Carrie spent the next two days by Peter’s bedside. When the doctor finally released him, Gage drove both of them to Peter’s apartment. To her frustration, Peter refused to get back into bed when they got home, choosing instead to sit in his home office and make phone calls.

“I’ve been in bed for three days, woman. That is the last place I want to be unless you’re going to have sex with me.”

---