Never Stop

31. Via

Chapter thirty-one

Via

W hat the actual fuck is going on.

Anderson Cole.

Anderson fucking Cole .

He is here .

In my stupid hospital room that I don't even know why I'm in, much less why the hell he's here.

"What is going on? Can someone give me straight fucking answers?"

I attempted to scream out, but my voice was weak, and my throat was dry. The words come out as barely an angry whisper. Everything hurts. My entire body is sore like I'd been hit by a Mac truck, and my head and heart are pounding with pain in unison.

The pleas of a lost girl and desperate for answers about her life.

Pathetic .

I shake my head back and forth, trying to process it. The panic is setting in.

I can feel Ander's presence lean in over me, and his hand rubs my arm gently, shooting a course of electricity through my body down to my toes. My eyes remain screwed shut as his warm sweet breath fans over my face, and he starts counting backward as if he knows exactly what I do during a panic attack to help ground myself.

"Ten… Nine… Eight… Sev—"

"Stop it!" I demand, opening my eyes and throwing him a glare before looking at Izzy and then at Dr. Abayon. My hands rubbed over my face and then through my hair.

"Ms. Foley, we'll give you some time to rest." Dr. Abayon says as she looks at Izzy and Ander and motions her chin to point them out into the hall.

I scoff, "I don't want to rest . I want to know what's going on. Damnit! Why does none of this make any sense?"

"Via. . ." Izzy speaks softly. "Via, it's okay."

My frustration only grows, and I huff. Okay? How is any of this okay? It's bad enough that my body feels like hell; I don't know anything that's going on, and I don't know why. I feel lost in my own mind, and that's definitely not fucking okay.

"You were involved in an incident—"

"Yes, Doctor, you've said that. Can we not be so vague?" I huff, anger filling my voice and the knot in my heart.

Ander is here . He shouldn't be.

Why does it feel right, and why does part of me want him here ?

How could so many years have passed between us, yet seeing him brings butterflies to my stomach?

Then, it hits me.

He needs to leave; it's not safe.

Dr. Abayon speaks again, "In the incident, you incurred multiple injuries, as you can see and feel. One of them resulted in a traumatic brain injury. Thankfully, it isn't severe, but it does appear that it has affected some of your memory. Which is normal and to be expected, but it's nothing that should remain permanent."

"Wha-What. . ."

"Was I in a car wreck?" I ask, pinching my eyebrows together, trying to settle the confusion that these fuckers won't seem to answer for me.

Ever since my family's accident, vehicles have been touchy for me. I've been working in therapy with Dr. Carr on my fear of getting in a vehicular accident, and I've gotten a lot better at controlling my fear.

All three of them shake their heads at the same time, which only pisses me off. Before I can speak, Ander speaks up.

God, his voice is exactly like I remember it.

"Via, I know none of this makes any fucking sense right now, but I need you to really hear me. Can you try to do that?" His words are gentle, and his tone is soft as he kneels at my bedside, placing his elbows on the edge of the bed.

"Please," He begs timidly.

Gosh, he's just as beautiful as I remember. His face is scruffy now, and he has a full beard. That's new. I kind of love it. Then there's those eyes—those creamy caramel-brown eyes—that have always pierced through me and stolen my heart. I could get lost in those eyes. I almost forgot how beautiful they were.

I hold his gaze and nod hesitantly.

Ander lets out a sigh. Instead of speaking, he looks around at everyone in the room, giving them all a look that screams, " Get the fuck out. " Then he speaks up, but not to me.

"Can we have a moment of privacy? You can all wait outside the door; you can hear her call out if she needs any of you. Just leave the door cracked open."

He throws a look at me as if it's a question, asking for my permission to make sure this is okay.

I don't know what the hell is going on or why, but I want to hear what he has to say. Hopefully, he can clear the shit up.

All the staff nod and clear out of the room. Izzy stays rooted in her spot, and Ander flashes her a glare.

She huffs, "Oh no, big boy, I'm not leaving!"

"Iz. . . I'm okay. You'll be outside the room with the door cracked, right?"

A look of hurt briefly flashes on her face, but she holds it back, forces a smile, and then nods as she makes her way into the hospital hall with the others.

"Okay, Ander, I'm listening." My words come out strangled. His presence consumes me.

He flashes a weak attempt at a grin. "I'm going to spit a lot of information out at you all at once. Try to keep up, okay?"

I nod.

"Close your eyes. Try to picture what I'm saying." I huff out a sad laugh, considering protesting, but ultimately, I give in and do exactly as he asks.

"It's October. You get convinced by Dumb and Dumber, AKA Izzy and Maverick, to go on a blind date with a strikingly handsome man who works with Mav." He chuckles, and I can't help but grin at the sound. I'm trying to picture what he's saying as he speaks.

"You don't want to go on a date. You put up one hell of a fight. Ultimately, you do. You go on a date, only for the guy to end up being the man who loved you since he first saw you when you were kids, and he never stopped."

My eyes flash open and dart to his with a gasp escaping my mouth that's agape.

He's pleased with that response, and he smirks knowingly.

"Oh, Ander," I cry as the memories all come flooding back like a picture wheel in my mind, slowly.

"Eyes closed, baby, I'm not done."

I roll my eyes and giggle. I'm not a fan of this game he's trying to play; I just want direct answers. Not everything is coming back clearly, and I did agree to hear him. So, I'll hold true to my word.

"You and said guy rekindle the flame that never stopped burning. You both fall in love, fast, all over again and even deeper than before. . . Can you see it, baby?

"I'm so sorry, Ander, how could I even forget—"

Before I can finish speaking or open my eyes, Ander's warm, minty mouth is on mine. Gentle but needy. So much need.

I part my lips slightly, inviting him in, and he doesn't miss a beat. His soft tongue swipes, dances, and teases along with my own. He pulls back slightly, not removing his lips from mine, and speaks against my mouth, "I was so worried about you, Rosie." I feel the heat spread on my cheeks. Our foreheads rest against one another.

I run my hand through his hair and speak with a slight smile, "I'm here, babe. You can't get rid of me that easily."

He pulls back and stares me down with a grimace.

"What, too soon?" I chuckle, and he rolls his eyes and laughs at me smugly. He cups my face between his hands and kisses my forehead.

"Are the memories still coming back?" he asks, softly pressing me to get back to thinking and remembering. Part of me doesn't want to remember. I want to relish this moment—here, with him.

Every moment with him feels so genuine and pure—every single one is something to be cherished. He pulls back, granting me a little space to continue thinking and sorting through my thoughts.

Our blind date at Crave's. Playing Pool at Open Tap. Leaving. Sex. It's really good sex. My family's beach house is his house now. More incredible sex. A lot of mind-blowing sex. His family. Aw, I missed them. My fucking head hurts like hell. Quitting my job. I got back into photography. I quit my job. Oh my god, I quit my fucking job. I fell in love again, not that I ever fell out of love with this man. Izzy. Her text. Valentine's Day. Our date. The dress. Our drive to my and Izzy's house to check on Izzy. Opening the door to see. . . Panic sets in.

"He's out! Liam was released!… He knows!" I shout, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt and then pulling for the IV, attempting to rip it out and rip all these fucking wires off of me.

"We aren't safe."

I gulp, my voice barely a whisper, my body trembling uncontrollably with fear as the memories of my brother's vicious assault and hate-laced words come flooding in like daggers. Causing more pain to my heart and mind than my body could ever be possible of feeling.

"I know, baby, I know he is."

The tears are flowing on their own accord, and Ander is there to wipe each one.

"You have to leave, Ander. He's going to—" I choke.

"He's going to die, V," Ander says firmly, in a matter-of-fact tone. His voice grows grave, almost threatening if I didn't know better.

"You don't have to protect him anymore, baby. He is going to pay this time. I'll make sure of it. No matter what. He's gotten away with hurting you for long enough. Not anymore. As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't touch you and get away with it. The fucker doesn't deserve to live!"

"Ander—"

"No. There's no argument. I've sat back long enough and let this fucker hurt you. I hate myself for it. I can't believe I didn't protect you better than this." He runs a hand through my hair as he stares down at me with a promise in his eyes. "I'm going to fucking kill him, V."

Just then, there's a knock on the door.

Ugh .

A short, heavyset man who must be in his mid to late forties, wearing a navy blue dress shirt and black slacks, walks in alongside Dr. Abayon.

"Ms. Foley?" the man asks.

"Yeah," I respond dryly, eyes locked on Ander, whose gaze won't leave the man walking into the room. The man looks to Ander, and they exchange a knowing nod.

What the fuck .

"Hi, Ms. Foley. My name is Detective Blackwell, and I'm the lead detective working on your case. I want to talk with you and ask a few questions. Are you up to it?"

Awesome.

What the hell has my life become? I've spent the past twenty-four years being my brother's keeper of secrets, bearing the weight of the burdens that he created, and now I'm expected just to spill all of the tea like It's Sunday brunch gossip as if that's so damn easy for me to do.

I've been a fortress for years, never giving life to the secrets I've had no choice but to keep—an unbreakable one.

I've held on to my share of demons that haunt me. The shame. The embarrassment. The guilt. I've carried it all.

Now, I'm expected to just lay it all out there for the world's knowledge—to a complete stranger, a male stranger, at that.

My own parents didn't believe me the few times that I tried to talk to them about the vile things Liam would do and was capable of. Why would anyone else believe me if the two people who were supposed to protect me in this world couldn't?

My eyes flash to Ander before closing, and I nod. Ander holds both of my hands in his and gives them each a light squeeze, letting me know that he is here and in this with me.

I'm not alone .

Detective Blackwell sat next to my bed, opposite where Ander stayed, and kneeled at my side. His questions started simple: my name and my information, and that was about all that was simple.

Next came the questions about what I remembered. Unfortunately, at that point, I remembered just about everything. Halfway through his questioning, I requested that Izzy come back in. Ander was comforting during the entire conversation so far. He is undoubtedly my safe place and my home, but so is she, and she's been just as in the dark as Ander.

I explained all the disturbing and disgusting details that I remembered from last night. Somehow, it feels like a distant memory. It doesn't feel like it just happened. Oddly, when I think back, it feels like it happened to someone else, not me. Like I'm on the outside looking in, able to watch it all like a movie.

I'm heartbroken for the person who went through that, forgetting that person is me. I'm describing my own life. How fucked is that?

After I described the events that took place at my home: From walking in, finding Liam waiting for me, running from him, his knife, his fist, his foot stomping me. . . I was able to describe it all.

Lucky me .

It only got worse from there when Detective Blackwell asked when the abuse began. It's funny how we find ourselves living a life we never envisioned.

As I spoke, I could feel Ander's anger radiating. He's never been blind to Liam. I mean, that is how we met, after all. I've also never been very descriptive like this, either.

Detective Blackwell was here for over an hour, and it was mentally exhausting. Ander and Izzy never left my side during the conversation, but after reliving all of that, I need space to think, process, and deal.

I'm not even fucking sure at this point. All I know is that this room's tension is thick like glue, making me nauseous.

"Why don't you guys go home and get some rest?" My attempt is weak; I don't have much energy left.

Izzy nods, but Ander lets out a deep, frustrated growl and scowls at me.

"I'm not leaving." He deadpans.

"Ander, why don't we go for a bit?" Izzy attempts; I think she can sense I need space. She knows me well. I thrive being alone, most of the time.

"At least go run to our house or Mavericks since they aren't as far away; you can shower and return afterward. You need one, you fucking wreak." She snorts at her lame joke, which causes me to giggle.

Ow, fuck .

Everything hurts, and any movement causes a jolt of pain.

I can see the protest Ander is concocting in his mind, but he doesn't speak immediately. He just looks at me. He looks so lost, so unreadable.

I force a smile, trying to convince him that I'm fine, and give a quick nod.

"Yeah, I'll go." His words are harsh and angry.

"My Mom, Dad, Abbie, and Jett are all on their way here and should be here within the hour, so you won't be alone for long. I'll call Dessa to come back by and check on you, too."

I don't protest, even though I want to. I want to be alone, but I know this is his way of protecting me. A security guard is stationed at the nurse's station down the hall, so I'm not very worried. It's not like the coward will show his face here.

Izzy comes around and hugs me as she kisses the top of my head. Her lavender scent fills my senses. I'm so lucky to have her. Then, she speaks.

"I'm so proud of you for staying alive, fucker." With that, she spins around and walks out without saying another word, leaving me laughing, aching, and speechless.

Ander paces back and forth, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other cupping his chin as his fingers work in and out through his beard.

"Ander, I promise. I'm okay." I say softly, begging him to meet my eyes.

He stops pacing, but he doesn't spare me a glance. He sighs, and his shoulders slump forward. He shoves his other hand in his pocket as well. He looks so defeated, and I don't know how to fix it.

After a few beats, he walks over to the window ledge and looks out. The silence is thick, and I'm unsure what's going through his mind or what to make of it.

"Tell me something." His deep, low voice cuts through the silence like a machete slicing through a cane stalk. It's almost unnerving.

I don't speak; I wait patiently, giving him all the time he needs to form his thoughts into whatever questions he needs to ask me.

His gaze stays focused intently out of the window.

"Is he. . . Is he th-the reason you left me six years ago?" The pain in his voice guts me.

Chills .

They spread like wildfire throughout my entire being.

I let out a sigh.

"I was never protecting him, Ander. I was protecting you from him . You don't know what he's capable of. The things he's. . . You don't know all of the things he's done. He was the cause of the accident that killed my parents and Natty! He admitted that night in the hospital, and then he threatened that YOU would be next if I didn't let you go. He said no one could have me." My words are strained, each one choked out through the sobbing.

He spins around and finally faces me, and the anger and hurt in his eyes pulls the tears from me like a magnetic force.

"You. . ." He stammers, but his words are laced with anger, causing my gut to constrict and ache. "You could have talked to me. We were supposed to be unbreakable." He scoffs just as disgust flashes across his face and starts walking toward the door.

I can understand and sympathize with his hurt and upset feelings, but not his anger—not with me. We don't do anger.

"Ander!" I call out loudly, but he keeps approaching the door.

"I'll be back in a bit, I need to thin—"

"Goddammit, Anderson. Look at me!" I scream at him. I've never screamed at him out of frustration, not like this, and it feels… wrong.

He stops in his tracks right past the foot of my hospital bed.

He looks broken, and every part of me wants to fix every aching part of him.

"I just don't get it, V. Make me get it. Make me understand all of this. Make me understand how you could let that asshole come between us. Has he not taken enough from you? He's out now, and he's after you. Are you going to give up and do it again?"

His words are pleading and begging for answers, and I can sense us both shutting down. The tension is so thick that I could physically choke on it.

Our eyes are locked, and the pain he's processing is so evident that it's shattering my heart.

I don't respond instantly. I nod.

"He's not after me, Ander. He's after you . I was just the easy target. I was the warning. He doesn't want me dead," I scoff," He wants me to hurt . He knows what he did to me only hurts me physically, but hurting you. . ." I look away, breaking our intense staredown.

"Hurting what we have, again, he knows that would break me completely. That's what he wants. I'm not giving it to him. Not again, Ander. I knew the fucking risks. I took them anyway, and now he's after you. This is my fucking fault. I was selfish." I begin to sob, letting my head fall in my hands as the emotions take me over like a tidal wave.

"If he wants to hurt me, let him hurt me. He can't hurt you , Ander. I can't let him hurt you." I let out a sigh through the tears as the panic controls me.

"I can't live in a world where you don't exist. I'd rather know you're alive and out there, safe. No one deserves this. Especially not you. The last fucking thing I wanted was to lose you again. I can't put you through this. It isn't right."

"I hear what you're saying, and I know you're scared, but fuck all of that."

Ander takes a step closer and rubs one of his hands up and down my legs over the blankets. Our eyes meet, and it's electric. Every feeling we each possess radiates through this gaze.

A lone tear travels down the apple of his cheek, getting lost in his facial hair.

"You're mine. I'll be damned if I let anyone or anything get in the way of that again."

"You don't understand—"

"I understand pretty damn clearly. You're not my bodyguard, baby. I'm yours. You don't need to protect me. It's my job to protect you. Liam will fucking pay for every single ounce of pain he's ever caused in your life. He will never be able to hurt you again once I'm through with him."

"Ander, listen to me."

He shakes his head and plants a kiss on my forehead.

"You're not ending this again. It's not even up for discussion. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, baby."

I lose my sense of self-control as tears overtake me. This man loves me wholly—it's evident.

He deserves better than me and the chaos of my life. At this point, my initial instinct is to push him away. Let him let me go again, and let him be happy without me.

I can't. I fucking can't do that anymore. I don't want to. It's never been what I wanted. It's been what I've had to do. I want him every damn day. Happy, sad, angry, giddy, horny, scared— I want it all, for once, and I only want it with him.

"I love you, Ander, and I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified that he's going to hurt you. Or worse, take you from me. I. . . Need you."