After about fifteen minutes of driving down the nearly vacant series of roads that led to his house, Justin made a quick right in to his driveway and lowered his window.  Once he punched in the six digit security code, the large wooden gates opened up and Justin drove up to the top of his driveway.  Not bothering with the formalities of parking his truck in the garage, Justin simply pulled it out of the way and put it in park.  The only thing he was really concerned about at this point was seeing Michelle.

Turning off the ignition, Justin opened the drivers side door and jumped out.  After making quick work of the space between him and his house, Justin reached for the door handle and quietly walked inside.  Spotting Trace still awake sitting on the sofa, Justin gave him a slight nod of his head and closed the door behind him.

"Hey man."

"Hey, that was quick."  Trace said, sitting forward to place his glass down on the coffee table.  "I wasn't expecting you for at least another ten minutes or so." 

"Yeah well, I just really wanted to come home.  Hopefully I can get some sleep before this whole nightmare starts all over again tomorrow."  Justin replied, tossing his keys down on to the table.  "She's still sleeping?"

"As far as I know.  I was up there about ten minutes ago, and when I looked it on her she was still out."

"Yeah, I figured she would be.  You know, I can't even begin to imagine the shit she went through tonight man."  Justin sighed, collapsing down on to the sofa beside his best friend.  "I mean, I don't even know where to begin to try and sort this all out." 

"Truthfully, we might never really know what went down tonight.  You know that, right?"

"I want to know.  I NEED to know.  I'll never be able to fix this mess unless I know what happened."

"All I'm saying is that she might not want to talk about it."  Trace said, reaching forward to grab his glass once again.  "And obviously you're not going to get any information from Wade.  At least not anytime soon."

Remembering that there were a few pieces of information that he could possibly place together, Justin quickly turned to face Trace.

"Hey, you said earlier that you found her in the emergency room of UCLA Medical right?"

"Right."

"And that there was a guy in the waiting room on the phone talking about her?"

"Yeah."  Trace said scrunching up his face slightly.  "Why?"

"What did he look like?  I mean, did you get a good look at him?"

"Yeah, I guess so.  There wasn't anything special about the guy though.  Just your typical guy from LA.   About 5'11, light brown hair, well dressed."

"Was he there by himself?"

"As far as I know.  He was on the phone with someone though.  Why?"

"Do you remember anything about the conversation?  Did you overhear any names?  Anything?"  Justin asked, his frustration over the whole situation growing with every second that passed.

"No.  All I remember is that Wade's name had come up at in the conversation.  I think the guy might have said something about asking about Wade's condition or something...I think.  I'm not sure though man.  Once I heard him say Michelle, I kind of zoned out for a minute."

Sensing Justin's sudden discomfort with their conversation, Trace couldn't help but think that there was more to his interrogation than he was letting on.  Clearly this wasn't a round of questions meant to try and put the pieces of a puzzle together.  This was a seek and confirm sort of interrogation.  Hoping that it would only take one question to get to the real reason behind his questioning, Trace cleared his throat.

"You know who did this, don't you?"  Trace asked, his voice cracking slightly as the words fell from his mouth.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Justin briefly glanced towards the stairs and then turned his attention back to his friend.

"I can't say for sure, and to be honest I really hope I'm wrong, but I think I have a pretty good idea who is responsible." 

"Who?"

"You remember that guy I told you about the other night, Chris?   The one who drugged her with something and pulled a gun on her?"

"Yeah."

"That mother fucker!"  Justin said, getting up from the sofa to head over to the window.  "I saw him at the hospital earlier when I was there trying to find out about Wade and that guy that you described in the waiting room, he sounds like one of the other guys that was with him."

Allowing his head to slowly fall forward, Trace suddenly recalled Michelle mentioning something at the hospital that might confirm Justin's worst fears.  In fact, he was almost certain of it and that fact alone sent a wave of fear coursing through his body.

"Shit." 

Hearing Trace mumble the profanity, Justin slowly turned back around and studied the now pale complexion of his friend.  He could tell that he knew something.  Something he wasn't saying.

"What?"  Justin asked, quickly making his way back across the room.  "What aren't you telling me?"

"It's not that I wasn't telling you man, it's just that I'd forgotten about it until right now."  Trace said, slowly looking up from his seated position on the sofa.

"Forgot about what?!"

"When I went back to the room to see Michelle,  I asked her what happened and if Wade had done that to her.  She told me that he didn't."  Trace said, letting out a heavy sigh.  "But she knows who put Wade in the hospital and I'm beginning to think that theory you have going about that Chris guy might actually be right on the money."

"Why?"

"Well for one thing, she didn't ask me to take her home.  She begged and pleaded with me to get her out of there Justin.  Then she just went off on this rant, and I'm assuming she was referring to tonight when she was crying, telling me about how she tried to get him to stop hitting Wade, but that he wouldn't.  She said that she couldn't go back there with him.  That he wanted to kill her.  That she saw it in his eyes when he..."  Trace said, pausing for a moment to swallow the large lump that had now formed in the back of his throat.  "When he...when he had a gun on her."

"Oh Jesus Christ."  Justin said, collapsing back down on to the sofa.  "It's him Trace.  It's Chris.  He did this to her...to Wade.  I know it!"

"Justin..."

"That's why he was at the hospital.  He's looking for her.  You took her out of there, and he wants her back."

In a complete state of shock, Trace just continued to stare at Justin as the reality of what was going on slowly began to sink in.

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything."  Trace replied, finally snapping out of his trance.

"I want you to call Joe and tell him that I need him to come over here.  You don't have to go in to specifics on the phone, but let him know that this isn't social call, and that I need him here as soon as possible."

"Are you sure this is necessary?  I mean, you really don't know if it was that Chris guy or not."

"It was him Trace.  Please.  Just make the call."

Nodding his head that he would do as Justin asked, Trace grabbed his cell phone and began dialing the number to Justin's head of security.  He wanted to believe that Justin wanted to have Joe around as more of a precautionary step, but after watching him pace back and forth across the living room, he was slowly realizing that it wasn't a precaution at all.  Justin felt it was a frightening necessity.

"I'm going to head upstairs and check on her real quick, but I'll be back down in a few minutes."

"Alright."

"Oh hey, when you get off the phone, make sure everything is locked up and that the security system is activated for me."

"I'll take care of it man.  Go do what you have to do."

"Thanks man.  For everything."

Offering him a slight smile, Trace motioned for him to go head upstairs. 

Nervously nodding his head, Justin quickly headed across the living room and over to the stairs.  Not wasting any time, he took the steps two at a time and within seconds was standing outside his bedroom door.  After quickly looking inside to make sure that Michelle was still in there, Justin continued down the hall and over to one of the other smaller bedrooms that he used mainly for storage.  He hated the fact that his fear over what could happen forced him to go in there, but given the circumstances and what was at stake, he really didn't feel he had any other choice. 

After briefly glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Trace was still downstairs on the phone, Justin quietly pushed the door open and walked inside.  Letting out a heavy sigh, Justin slowly walked over to one of the large closets and pulled it open.  After spotting what he was looking for on the top shelf, Justin reached up and gently removed the small box from it's perched position.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."  Justin said, his hands trembling slightly as he punched a five digit code in to the keypad on the front of the box. 

Once he had confirmed that he had entered the right number, Justin slid the latch to the right and the lid opened slightly.  After lifting it the rest of the way, Justin reached down and grabbed the black .45 caliber pistol that he had bought years ago for protection.  Back then he had convinced himself that it was better to be prepared for the worst than to wake up in the middle of the night and find out someone had broken in to his house, but he only managed to keep it in his bedroom for about a month before he couldn't stand being in the same room with it. The next morning when he woke up, he bought a firearm safe and placed the gun inside so that he could safely store it away.  Up until now, that was the last time he saw it. 

"Well, if I'm going to make sure that she doesn't get hurt, I can't imagine a better way to do it than this."  Justin said, reaching back down in to the box to grab the magazine.

"Than what?"  Trace asked, taking a few steps in to the room.

Freezing in place, Justin looked over his shoulder at his best friend and mentally scolded himself for not closing the door behind him. 

"Nothing man.  I was just talking to myself." 

"Oh, well I just wanted to come up here and let you know that I called both Joe's home number and cell phone, but couldn't get an answer.  I left a message, but I don't know how much good that is going to do you right now."  Trace said, as he continued to walk further in to the room.  "Is there someone else you want me to call?"

"No, it's alright.  Joe will call back...eventually."

"Are you sure you don't want me to call anyone else?  I mean, downstairs you were pretty adamant about wanting to get him here tonight."

"Yeah well, I wanted to have some kind of protection in this house in case that asshole did somehow show up here, but I think I have things covered.  At least for tonight anyway."  Justin replied, sliding the magazine in to the end of the gun and clicking in to place.

Hearing the unusual sound, Trace quickly walked the last few feet over to where Justin was standing to see what he was doing.  After glancing down at the silver box on the bed, Trace brought his gaze higher up and noticed the small firearm resting in the palm of his best friend's hand.

"Jesus Christ dude!  Where in the fuck did you get that?!"  Trace yelled, his uneasiness with the weapon forcing him to take a step back.

"I bought it a few years ago for self defense.  For protection."

"When?!  How come I never knew you had a gun in the house?!"

"It's not like it's a new truck Trace.  You don't just go around showing the shit off!  Besides, it wasn't that long after I bought it that I just locked it away.  I didn't feel comfortable with it around." 

"And now all of a sudden, you're comfortable with it?!"  Trace asked, the tone of his voice clearly displaying that he was nowhere near comfortable with it.

"Honestly, no.  I'm not.  But I'd be even more uncomfortable leaving it sit in a closet, knowing that at any given moment that son of a bitch can try to get in here and hurt her."

"But...Jesus!  Do you really think this is the best way to go about this?  I mean, why don't you just put that damn thing away and call the cops?"

"You don't understand how this guy operates man.  Brian said he has connections everywhere, that he even has LAPD on payroll!  No one is going to do anything to stop him!"  Justin said, engaging the safety on the gun before placing it down on a stack boxes off to his left.  "I'm not going to let him hurt her Trace."

Unsure of what to even say anymore, Trace just stood there with his mouth slightly open.  The whole idea of Justin even having a gun in the first place freaked him out, but for him to now bring the firearm out with the intentions of possibly using it, was just insane! 

"Look, this guy isn't going to play around, and neither am I.  No matter what it takes, I'm going to protect her Trace.  End of story."  Justin said, as he picked up the gun back up and headed out the door.

Chapter 177

After almost an hour of listening to Cameran go over the numerous ways that they could both obtain their desired objects of affection, Chris stretched his arms over his head and let out a hearty yawn.  The events from earlier that night clearly taking it's toll on his tired body.

"So, what do you think?  Are you game?"

Pulling his feet back off of the coffee table, Chris let them hit the floor with a thud.  Sure, parts of her plan seemed to appear fool proof, but the fact remained that he was not, and never would be, alright with the fact that his baby sister wanted to hook up with the enemy.  In his eyes, it just wasn't an option.

"I can't guarantee you anything Cam.  I mean, I can sit here and say that I think we should move ahead with all this, but you know as well as I do that it's not that simple."

"Look, I understand your hesitation with Wade, but things will be different now."

"How do you figure?  Seriously?  The son of a bitch has been buying high end product off of me for at least a week now!  Not to mention that fact that I know damn well that he's been beating the shit out of Michelle!  How can you expect me to just stand by and act like that it's ok or that it's none of my business?!"

"Because it's not any of your business!  I'm a grown ass woman Chris!  I'm not sitting here preaching to you about the mess you made with Wade's little girlfriend, so why are you preaching to me?!"

"First off, this so called mess that you are referring to with Michelle, is completely different.  Second..."

"Wait.  How is it different Chris?  I mean, let's just look at the similarities, shall we?"  Cameran said, grabbing the stack of papers off of the table.  "These do belong to your little sweetheart, right?" she continued, scanning over the discharge papers.  "So, she made a trip to the ER.  My, my, my.  Wonder who put her there.  I could be going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing it was you.  Right?"

"You know what..."

"It's ok.  I get it now.  You don't want me messing around with a 'coke sniffing womanizer'.  It's understandable.  Honestly.  But, if you hook up with Michelle, isn't that who she will be messing around with?  A 'coke sniffing womanizer'?"  Cameran said sarcastically, as she tossed the papers back on to the table. 

"You better watch what the fuck you're saying!  You're already on thin ice with me Cameran!  Don't push it!"

"Look Chris, all I'm saying is that I'm not here to try and tell you how to live you life.  It's as simple as that.  I just want the same respect from you.  Just let me live my life the way I want to.  Don't I deserve that?"

Glancing down at Michelle's discharge papers as they laid sprawled out across the coffee table, Chris finally came to a realization and turned to face his sister.  There was no doubt in his mind that he would be able to gain access to Michelle within a week's time.  Wade on the other hand, was almost certainly going to be out of commission for at least a few weeks, if he even managed to pull through at all.  By that time, he really wouldn't even be a factor in this joint venture of hers because Michelle would already be his.  It would be a whole new ballgame.  He just had to make sure he presented a good enough cover to keep his sister happy.  That way, if he did need her services along the way, she would do what he needed without incident. 

"Alright.  If that's what you want, then fine.   But I'm telling you right now Cameran, if he fucks up just once, he's done.  There will be no second chances, no bullshit excuses about it being a misunderstanding.  He makes one wrong move and he'll be on a slab in the LA county coroner's office quicker than you can blink an eye.  You understand that?"

Nodding her head that she understood, Cameran let that trademark Carbonell smile spread across her own lips and quickly stood up. 

"Well then, I guess I'll be heading out.  You look like you could use some sleep anyway."  Cameran said, lovingly placing her hand on her brother's shoulder as she stepped over his legs.  "Once you figure out how you want to go about handling things on your end, call me.  I'm sure it won't take much to have little Miss Perfect eating out of the palm of your hand."

Not bothering to acknowledge her comment with a response, Chris simply nodded his head and headed over to the front door.

"Thanks for stopping by sis.  Seriously.  It's been...enlightening."  he said, grabbing a hold of the door handle to pull it open.  "Just make sure that next time you stop by, you're actually invited."

"You're such a crab ass!"  Cameran laughed, as she strutted her way through the front door.  "Go to bed already!  Jesus!"

"Goodnight Cameran." 

After closing the door behind her, Chris activated the security system and headed back down the hall to the living room.  To say that the night had dragged on longer than he had expected would be an understatement, but unfortunately before he could even consider the possibility of sleeping, there was one more thing that he needed to do. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, Chris took the last few steps over to his coffee table and gathered up Michelle's discharge papers that Cameran had scattered across it's surface.   He hated the fact that he had been in possession of those papers for the last few hours, and yet he still hadn't brought himself to fully read over them.  Even worse was the fact that he wasn't quite sure why.  He originally tried to tell himself that it really didn't matter what her injuries were, as long as he knew that they weren't life threatening, but now the feeling of not knowing was eating him alive.  He needed to know exactly what damage he was responsible for. 

Lowering himself back down on to the sofa, Chris made himself comfortable once again and began scanning over the first piece of paper in the stack. Quickly realizing however that the page only contained personal information and medical history, Chris flipped it upside down on the table and moved on to the next one. 

Scanning over the second one, Chris struggled to decipher the various notes and comments written down by the doctor, but he did manage to make out the fact that she didn't divulge any more information to the hospital staff other than the fact that she simply fell down the stairs, and that actually took him a bit by surprise.  Especially after everything that had happened that night.  After shaking his head at her still present lack of self-worth, Chris flipped the second piece of paper face down on to the table and continued on. 

Once he got to the third piece of paper, he quickly read over the first few lines at the top of the page and let out a deep sigh.  This was it.  Whatever he did to her was going to be right there in plain sight, staring him down.

As his eyes continued to scan the length of the paper and over the information pertaining to Michelle's injuries, he felt an unfamiliar tightening in his chest and adjusted his position on the sofa in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.  Unfortunately it didn't take long for him to realize that his efforts provided little, if any, relief.  In fact, the pain only seemed to intensify with every breath that he took, and he hated the fact that he was starting to understand why he was feeling that way.

"God damn it!"  Chris yelled out, quickly tossing the last two papers back down on to the table as he stood up.  "How in the fuck did I let her get this far in to my life?!"

Knowing he couldn't possibly deal with any more feelings surfacing that he didn't fully welcome, Chris decided to just head to bed and bring the long overdue night to a close.  Turning off the remaining lights in the living room, Chris quickly walked up the stairs and allowed himself to take comfort in the fact that in a matter of minutes, he would be sound asleep and away from the unsettling thoughts that were quickly trying to take over his conscious state of mind.  Unfortunately once he got closer to his bedroom, the broken door frame that Jackson had kicked in brought back the harsh reality that this mess wasn't something he could just escape by crawling in to bed.

"Great!  Let's just keep this night rolling on!"  Chris shouted as he took note of the expensive items that Michelle had busted all over his bedroom floor.

Realizing that he couldn't sleep in his room in that condition, Chris just shook his head with disgust,

"So much for a good night's sleep."  Chris groaned as he headed down the hall. 

After walking through the door of the guestroom Michelle had used earlier to get ready, Chris grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and tossed it up on to the small dresser.  Not wanting to allow himself another moment to sulk over what he had allowed to happen, Chris quickly began to unfasten the buttons on his shirt so he could get in to bed.  Once he had them completely undone, he laid the shirt across the arm of the chair in the corner of the room and proceeded to sit down. 

After bending down to unlace his shoes, Chris let out another chuckle and leaned back in the chair.

"And of course that son of a bitch had to get blood all over my new Italian shoes!  That fuckin no good piece of shit!"  Chris growled, hooking his one foot behind the other to kick them off. 

Once he had finally managed to slip both shoes off, he uncharacteristically just pushed them out of the way and stood back up.  He didn't even care how much of a mess he was making at this point.  All he cared about was going to bed.

As he walked back over to the dresser, Chris reached back in to his pocket and grabbed his cell phone.  After tossing it up on to the dresser with his wallet, he began feeling through his other pockets trying to locate his car keys.  When he finally found them in his left front pocket, Chris pulled them out and tossed them up as well.  Unfortunately, the keys weren't the only thing he had removed from that pocket, and the tightening feeling that he was trying so hard to avoid came rushing back once again.

Letting out a slight chuckle of frustration, Chris reached forward and began to untangle the delicate platinum chain from the twisted confines of his keys.  After a few moments of gently weaving in and out of his key rings, Chris once again had Michelle's broken necklace dangling from his fingers.  Feeling that it was undoubtedly some sort of sign, Chris cupped the heart shaped stone in to the palm of his hand and headed over to the bed.

"This shit wasn't in the cards man.  You weren't supposed to get attached to her.  She was just supposed to be another piece of ass to play with until you found someone else.  Except things didn't work out quite like you planned, did they?"  he mumbled to himself as he looked down at the piece of jewelry once again. "You let your guard down Chris.  You let her inside your world, inside your heart.  You did the one thing you swore you would never do, and now you can't imagine going even a day without her by your side."  he continued, a slight chuckle of disbelief escaping his lips as the reality of what he was now up against finally hit him.  "What the hell are you going to do now?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Chris sat the necklace down on the small nightstand and tossed the bedding over to the side.  After adjusting the numerous pillows that were scattered against the back of the headboard, Chris laid himself down and tried to get as comfortable as he possibly could.  Unfortunately only a few seconds had managed to pass by before he realized that the room still smelled of Michelle's perfume from earlier that evening.  Feeling himself grow almost instantly hard as the thoughts of her quickly filled his mind, Chris forced his eyes open and tried to bring himself to focus on something other than what it would feel like to be inside her at that very moment. 

After taking in a deep calming breath, Chris let it out slowly and tried his hardest to ignore the now throbbing sensation building between his legs.  Knowing that he was undoubtedly just trying to fight off the impossible, Chris tucked his left hand underneath his head and reluctantly proceeded to slide his other hand down under the waistband of his boxers. 

With his hand now firmly wrapped around the base of his erection, Chris closed his eyes once again and began to softly stroke himself.  His mind quickly carrying him back to the time that he had ordered Michelle to strip before him.   He loved the way her body moved to the music and the innocent expression that danced so delicately across her features as she looked down at him.  It was a look he could never get tired of seeing. 

Recalling the way she shuttered beneath his touch as he ran his hands over the smooth skin of her stomach, Chris suddenly realized that his boxers were working against him and quickly slid them down over his hips.  Now having unrestricted access to take care of business, Chris began to pick up the pace.  His hand rapidly stroking back and forth as he remembered how good it felt when he slid deep inside her.

After letting a small moan escaped his mouth, Chris craned his neck back in to the softness of the pillow and stroked himself a little faster.  His breath catching slightly in the back of his throat as he felt the pressure building inside the pit of his stomach.  He needed that released.  His body was literally begging for it for each stroke he took.

Hoping to remedy the situation as fast as he possibly could, Chris quickly switched hands and began to stroke himself even harder and faster. 

"Ahhhhh Fuck."  Chris groaned out, his face distorting slightly as the increasingly rougher strokes brought on a slight wave of pain. 

Knowing deep down that he was using this method of self-gratification as a form of punishment, Chris continued on with the aggressive pace until he knew he couldn't hold on any longer.  Then, with a few additional strokes, Chris felt his body finally give way to the pleasure he had been so desperately trying to find, spilling the milky white fluid down over his fingers and on to his stomach as he continued to pant heavily. 

When he finally finished enjoying the moment, he let out a heavy sigh and stared up at the ceiling.  It was a moment he had savored completely, but yet he also knew that it was a moment he should have never allowed to happen.  It showed just how weak he was and he hated it.

Disgusted that things played out the way they did, Chris shook his hand off and jumped out of bed.  After doing his best to not make any more of a mess than he already had, Chris stormed off in to the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him, officially marking the evening at the worst night of his life.

Chapter 178

After Justin walked back in to hall, Trace grabbed the small box that had once held the deadly firearm and proceeded to follow after him.  Just having that gun in the house had bad news written all over it, and he wasn't about to back down from his protest to put the thing back in storage.

"Justin, come on man.  Just put the thing back in the box."  Trace called out to him, his pace picking up to a slight jog as he attempted to catch up.

"I'm not putting it back Trace.  It's the only way I can guarantee her safety.  Don't you understand that?"

"That isn't going to guarantee her safety!  All that is going to do is take a really bad situation and turn it in to something ten times worse!  Did you ever stop to think about what could happen if that thing accidentally went off or fell in to the wrong hands?!"

Hearing the commotion and raised voices outside the door, Michelle's once stilled body began to stir under the plush covers of Justin's bed.  The medication she had been given at the hospital, slowly wearing off. 

"You are acting like I have a choice here!"

"You do have a choice!  No one is forcing you to make this decision!" 

"He's forcing me God damn it!  He is out there looking for her Trace!  I know he is!  Why is it so hard for you to understand that I have to do this?!" 

Knowing that he was more than likely fighting a losing battle, Trace stopped in front of Justin's bedroom door and glanced inside at Michelle's suddenly restless frame. 

"I just don't want to see anything bad happen."  Trace said softly, letting his hands fall to his sides.  "This isn't your everyday shit here, you know?   I'm just...I'm scared man."

Turning around on his heel, Justin locked eyes with his best friend and let out a heavy sigh.  He knew that the possibility existed for something to go wrong, but in his mind, the option to not have the gun by his side carried way more risks.  Risks he wasn't willing to take.

"Look, I know you mean well, and I understand where you are coming from.  Trust me, I do.  I just honestly don't think there is any other way. This guy is dangerous Trace.  I mean, I told you about what went down at his place with Wade, and that's just the shit I witnessed!  I don't even want to think about what he probably did to her before we got there."

"Justin?"

Hearing Michelle's weak voice call out for him, Justin quickly pulled himself together and headed the few feet back down the hall towards his bedroom, not once realizing that he was still carrying the firearm. 

"Justin?!"  Michelle called out again, a sudden panic now filling her voice

"It's alright.  I'm right here."  Justin replied, his heart pounding in his chest as he quickly headed over to the side of the bed.  "What's wrong?"

Instantly spotting the gun in his right hand as he sat down beside her, Michelle's eyes widened with fear and she quickly moved away from him.

"What are doing?!  Why do have that?!"

Looking down at where her gaze was focused, Justin saw that the gun still in his hand and quickly glanced over his shoulder at Trace who was now standing in the door way.

"Hey, can you take this for me." Justin said, slowly extending his hand towards Trace.

After giving him the most stern look of disapproval that he could manage, Trace placed the box out in front of him and nodded for Justin to place the firearm back where it belonged.

"Justin?!  Why do you have that?!  What's going on?!"  Michelle yelled once again, tears quickly forming in her eyes as she rapidly looked back and forth between the two men.  "ANSWER ME!  SOMEONE ANSWER ME!"

"Can you give us a few minutes Trace?"  Justin asked, as he stood back up and walked over to the other side of the room towards his best friend.

"Yeah.  Actually, with everything going on, I think I'm just going to crash here.  I mean, that is if it's ok with you."  Trace replied, offering Michelle a sympathetic look. 

"That's fine.  Honestly, I was going to ask if you would stick around anyway."

"Alright, well I'll let you go handle things with her.  If you need me or anything, just yell." 

After giving Justin a reassuring pat on the back, Trace slipped out of the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.  When he did however, the once quiet house began to fill with Michelle's yelling.

"Justin?!  Why do you have a gun?!  What's going on?!"

"Nothing is going on.  Everything is fine."

"No it isn't!  I saw the look on Trace's face!  I can hear it in your voice!  Something's wrong.  Now tell me what's going on?!"

Knowing that his reluctancy to divuldge any information was only causing her more worry, Justin let out a heavy sigh and sat down on the bed beside her.  The conversation he knew he was about to start, weighing heavily on his heart.

"If you want to know the truth, then I need the same from you."

"I don't know what you mean.  When did I not tell you the truth Justin?!"  Michelle asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she stared at him through tear filled eyes.  "This is about Wade isn't it?  About me being with him at the club?"

"No, well...it's about Wade, but it's not about you being at the club with him.  Of course there are still questions I want to ask you about it, but that stuff can wait."  he replied, gently reaching down to take one of her hands in his.  "What I want to know, what I need to know, is what happened tonight.  With you.  With Wade."

"No!  Justin just stop."

"Michelle, you have to tell me what happened!  Don't you realize that you could be in danger?!"

"You think I don't already know that!  I had a gun to my head tonight Justin!  I know he's dangerous!"

"And by 'he' you mean..."

"No, I don't mean Wade, if that's what you were implying."  Michelle quickly fired back.

"I know you don't mean Wade, because someone 'else' hurt him as well tonight Michelle.  Someone hurt him bad enough, that he's now fighting for his life down at UCLA Medical Center.  I just want to know who's responsible."  Justin said, as he began studying the panicked look on her face.  "Who did it Michelle?  Was it Chris?"

After hearing him say Chris' name, Michelle's eyes widened with fear, and she quickly pulled her hand out of Justin's grasp.

"I never said that!"

"So you're telling me it wasn't him?"

Unable to reply to his question, Michelle just sat there shaking her head in disbelief.  This just wasn't happening. 

"I know it was Chris Michelle.  I saw him at the hospital tonight."  Justin said, his voice almost whisper soft as he leaned to the side to try and make eye contact with her.  After giving them both a few seconds to regroup, Justin spoke up once again.  "And you saw it happen, didn't you?  You were there tonight.  You watched him beat the shit out of Wade."

"I TRIED TO STOP HIM!  I DIDN'T WANT TO SEE HIM GET HURT!"  Michelle screamed out before quickly burying her face in to her hands. "But there wasn't anything I could do.  I tried Justin!  I swear to God I tried!"

With his suspicion concerning Chris' involvement now confirmed, Justin immeadiately wrapped Michelle up in his arms so that he could hold her as close to him as he possibly could.

"Is he also responsible for your trip to the ER tonight?"  Justin asked, quickly swallowing the lump that had risen in the back of his throat.

After giving her head a slight nod, Michelle reached up and wiped away the trails of tears that were now steadily flowing down her cheeks.

"It's going to be alright.  We'll get through this."  Justin said, softly running his hand up and down her back.

"It's not going to be alright Justin!  You don't understand!"

"He's not going to hurt you Michelle.  Trust me.  I'm not going to let him get anywhere near you."

Instantly realizing just what he meant, Michelle quickly pushed herself out of his hold. 

"So that's what the gun was for?!"

Not wanting to answer her question, Justin simply let out a heavy sigh.

Knowing that his sudden quietness was all the answer she needed, Michelle just shook her head and let out a half-hearted chuckle of disbelief.

"So then you're no better than him right?  Doesn't anyone value a human life anymore?!"

"I never said I was going to kill the guy."

"Then what were you going to do Justin?  Scare him real good?!"

"All I want to do is to protect you, and you're making me out to be the bad guy!"

"I'm not making you out to be the bad guy!  It's just not that simple.  Wade started out trying to do the same thing at the club, and look where it got him!"

"So then what do you want me to do?  Just act like this shit didn't happen?!"

"Yes!  How many more people do you expect me to let get?!  Don't you understand that I am trying to protect you?!  That I've been trying to protect you?!"

"And what made you think that I needed you to protect me?!  I mean, did you ever once stop and think that your choice to put yourself on the front line is what fueled this fire?!"

"So now it's my fault?!"

"No!  I'm not saying it's your fault!"

"Yes you are!"  Michelle yelled, quickly tossing the covers over to the side of the bed so she could get up.  "That's what you just said!  That I fueled this!  That my attempts at protecting the people I cared about made this mess even bigger!"

Knowing that his choice of words were only making things worse, Justin exhaled deeply.

"What are you doing?"  he asked, quickly following after her

"I'm leaving. I told you I want to go home."

"And I told you I'm not taking you home."

"Then I'll get Trace to."  she replied, quickly opening the bedroom door.  "Trace?!"

"Michelle stop!"

"No, you stop!  I never should have came here!  I knew this was a bad idea!"  she yelled, the tears once again burning trails down her cheeks.

"Hey!  What's going on?"  Trace asked, quickly sprinting back up the hall.

"Can you take me home?"

"You're not going home."  Justin chimed in.

"Trace, take me home.  Please."  Michelle said once again.

As he quickly looked back and forth between his best friend and Michelle, Trace suddenly felt the weight of the world fall on to his shoulders.  What the hell had just happened.

"What's going on man?  Why does she want to go home?"

"You don't need to know why I want to go home.  I just want to go.  Can you take me or not?"

Letting his frustration and fear over the whole situation grab hold, Justin let out a slight chuckle and just started going off on her.

"Why do you want to go home?!  Do you want Chris to show up on your doorstep and beat the shit out of you?!"  Justin yelled, as he followed after her down the hall.   "Do you want to end up like Wade, hooked to all those machines?  Huh?!  You want us all to have to come see your bloodied body, strapped to a hospital bed with tubes down your throat?!"

Hearing Justin so graphically describe Wade's condition, Michelle's expression softened and her complexion instantly turned a pale shade of white.  The tightening feeling she felt grab a hold of her heart, quickly becoming more than she could handle. 

"Oh...God..."  Michelle stuttered, the words catching in her throat as her body began to give way.  "Wade...." 

After letting that final word fall from her mouth, Michelle's trembling body began to crumble.

"Jesus Christ Justin!"  Trace yelled, quickly joining his best friend's side as he reached out to grab her so she didn't collapse to the floor.  "I thought you were trying to help her?!"

Unsure of what he could even say at this point, Justin fought back his own tears and simply scooped Michelle up in his arms as she continued to cry.  He never meant to lash out at her like that.  It just happened, and there wasn't any way to take it back.

"Dude, that was messed up.  You shouldn't have said that shit to her."

"Thanks for stating the obvious Trace.  Seriously."  Justin said, cradling her weakened frame against his body as he headed back towards his bedroom.  "I'm just going to sleep in here with her tonight man, so if you want to go ahead to bed, that's fine."

Rolling his eyes, Trace knew that words couldn't even begin to explain what he was feeling right now and just turned to head back down the hall.  Once he was out of sight, Justin walked back inside his bedroom and kicked the door closed with his foot.

Knowing that there wasn't anything he could say to take away the hurt she now felt, Justin simply laid her back down on the bed and crawled in behind her, his arms never breaking the hold that he had wrapped around her.

"Things are going to get better Michelle, I promise.  We are just going to have to take it one day at a time."  he said, quietly resting his head against hers, before allowing his eyes to fall shut.

Chapter 179

As Chris felt the warmth of the morning sunlight pour in across the guestroom bed, he let out a frustrated groan and turned over to face the other direction.  His sleep had been pretty much nonexistent, and just the thought of dealing with Jackson today made him cringe.  Glancing across the room at the small clock hanging on the wall, Chris let out a slight chuckle and was actually surprised that he hadn't showed up already.  Especially after the little stunt he pulled at the hospital.  He would be getting an ear full for that, he was certain.

"Lord knows this day isn't going to just go away, so I might as well get up and get it over with."  Chris growled, as he lowered his feet to the floor and slid out of bed.

After gathering up all his stuff from the top of the dresser, as well as the content of his clothes that he had scattered across the floor, Chris headed out the door and back down the hall towards his bedroom.  As he was about to walk inside however, he heard the sound of the front door open, and exhaled deeply.

"I thought I told you last night that you're only welcome here, when I invite you."

"Since when do I need an invite?"   Jackson asked, as he headed over to the bottom of the staircase. 

Realizing that the vistor was his best friend and not his sister, Chris tossed his belongings down on the chair just inside his door and headed back down the hall.  Unfortunately once he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed that Jackson wasn't alone.  There, standing off to his left, was a clearly apprehensive Tanner.

"What the fuck is he doing here?!"  Chris yelled, quickly making his decent down the stairs.

"He drove me here to get my car!   Or did you forget that you left my ass stranded at the hospital last night?!"

"I didn't leave your ass at the hospital!  You chose to not get in the truck!  That's all on you!"  Chris shouted at Jackson, before quickly moving in to Tanner's line of sight.  "And you!  You've got a lot of fucking nerve stepping foot in this house boy!"

Not wanting to be given a repeat performance from the other night at the hospital, Tanner lowered his gaze to the floor and quickly took a step back.

"What?!  No smart ass comments today?!"  Chris asked, advancing in to the space that Tanner had vacated only seconds ago. 

"That's enough!"  Jackson chimed in, quickly placing his hand against his best friend's chest to hold him back.  "I think you've already proven your point to the kid.  Wouldn't you agree?"  he continued, motioning toward the sling that held Tanner's shoulder in place, and the fresh set of stitches that ran just above his left eyebrow.

"I'll determine when it's enough!  Especially when it comes to how things are handled in my OWN FUCKING HOUSE!"  Chris yelled, knocking Jackson's hand away from his chest so that he could take up stance in front of Tanner. "Now get the hell out of my house!"

"Chris, come on man."

"No.  Get this piece of shit out of my house Jackson, right now!"

Knowing that Chris wasn't likely to back down, Jackson exhaled deeply and motioned for Tanner to just take off.  After all, the last thing he wanted to deal with right now was Chris giving Tanner another dose of reality.

"You happy now?"  Jackson asked, as he watched Tanner walk back through the foyer and out the front door.

"Yeah.  I'm fucking thrilled!"  Chris replied sarcastically as he headed down the hall towards the kitchen.  "I would have been more thrilled if I could've beat the shit out of him again, but hey.  We don't always get what we want."

"Yeah, and you should know."  Jackson snickered, continuing to follow Chris over to the refridgerator.

"And what's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing.  I was just saying."

Shaking his head with disbelief, Chris tried his best to ignore Jackson's blatant attempt to get under his skin.  Unfortunately, after his brief run in with Tanner not more than two minutes ago, his temper was far from being in check.  Finally deciding that he didn't want to just let his comment slide, Chris straightened up.

"You know what, if you have something you want to say Jackson, then just say it!"  Chris yelled, slamming the refridgerator door closed as he turned around.

"No. I'm good.  Like I said, I was just..."

"You were just saying.  Yeah.  I heard you the first time."  Chris replied, as he studied the satisfied look now plastered across his best friend's face.

After a few seconds of hard stares between the two men, Jackson finally decided to speak up.

"Yeah.  So uhh....I'm just going to grab my truck and take off."

"Good idea."

"I have to go drop off some stuff downtown, but after that I am heading over to the club.  You plan on stopping by any time today so we can get someone in there to clean up that mess?"

"Don't worry about the club.  I'll take care of it.  Just go do whatever in the fuck it is, that you need to do."

"When are you going to take care of it Chris?  We have people coming in from New York in a few days to work on the remodeling."

"Remodeling?  I thought I took care of that last night."  Chris snickered, the reference to destroying his club, along with Wade, suddenly becoming more than a bit amusing to him as he broke out in to a fit of laughter.

"I'm glad you find it funny man.  Seriously."  Jackson said, forcefully pushing past his best friend as he headed back across the room towards the front door.  "I just hope I'm around when you Michelle tells your sorry ass to go fuck yourself,  because then I'll have the pleasure of laughing just as hard as you're laughing right now." 

Hearing Jackson bring Michelle's name in to the conversation, Chris instantly quit laughing. 

"What did you say?"  Chris asked, quickly sprinting back across the room.  His fists automatically clentching at his sides once he got to within a few feet of his best friend.

"You heard me!  I hope she tells you to go fuck yourself!"  Jackson shouted, his chest puffing up slightly as he stared Chris down.  "I mean, I really do hope you get the nerve to put your heart on the line for this girl, because when she proceedes to tell you what a low life piece of shit you are, and she will, it will hurt that much more.  She's too good for you Chris, and deep down, you know it!"

Unable to keep his emotions in check any longer, Chris drew back his fist and landed a hard right to Jackson's jaw. 

"Man, FUCK YOU!" 

After staggering slightly to his right, Jackson caught his balance and let out a slight snicker as he rubbed his jaw. He knew before he even opened his mouth that his comment about Michelle would rub Chris the wrong way, but that was his intention.  It didn't matter that he was secretly rooting for Chris to finally have that something good that he knew he was always in search of.  All that mattered at that point in time, was that Chris felt what it was like to be on the receiving end of someone's emotional cruelty.  Maybe then he would finally realize what he had been subjecting Michelle to over these last few days, and for once do the right thing.

"You know, as much as I would love to stay here and dish you out a world of hurt right now, I know that when the time comes, she's going to hurt you way more than I ever could.  So I'll just save myself the trouble."

"You know what...just...GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!  I don't need this shit Jackson!  Not from him, and CERTAINLY not from you!"

Letting a slightly chuckle escape his lips, Jackson headed back across the room and out the front door, never once stopping to look back.  As far as he was concerned, his work there was done.

"What a fucking piece of work!  I swear to God!"  Chris yelled, quickly walking back in to the kitchen. 

When he was once again standing in front of his refridgerator, the realization hit him that his normal routine wasn't going to cut it this morning and he once again closed the door.  Opting to start the day with a quick chemical pick me up, rather than his normal caffeinated one, Chris headed back across the kitchen and opened a small drawer on the right hand side of his center island. 

"Now to get this day started."  Chris said, quickly emptying the powdery white contents of the bag on to the counter.

After staring at it for a few seconds, Chris grabbed the small razor blade that was laying in the bottom of the drawer and cut himself two solid lines of the Columbian Gold he had purchased the other day.  After taking a few minutes of deep contemplation on whether or not he really wanted to do this, Chris sighed heavily and proceeded to snort the first line up in record time.  Not wanting to give himself the opportunity to have a change of heart and not run the second line, Chris immeadiately switched sides and did away with the second line just as quick.  After making sure he had completely inhaled all of the product, Chris drug his index finger through the final traces of powder on the counter and quickly rubbed it along his lower gum line.  Satisfied that this would at least get him through the morning, Chris headed back in to the livingroom.

"Now, time to find Michelle."  Chris said, quickly snatching Michelle's hospital discharge papers from the top of the table before disappearing back up the stairs. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After Jackson walked out the front door, he saw Tanner leaning up against his car, obviously still waiting for him, and began laughing.  He figured after Chris' dismissal that the kid would probably want to get as far away from place as he could, but yet for some reason that wasn't the case. Now he was curious as to why.

"You still here?"  Jackson asked him, as he pulled his keys out of his front pocket.

"It appears that way, doesn't it?" 

"So then I guess the real question should be why are you still here?"  Jackson continued, as he headed down the walkway towards his truck. 

"I think you know why I'm still here."  Tanner replied, pushing himself away from his car to follow after him.

"Look, if this is about Michelle, then you're shit out of luck man.  I said all I am going to say concerning her.  I told you that before we even got here."

"Well that's not good enough Jackson."

"Well it's good enough for me, so end the subject!  What he does with his life, and who he does it with is not my concern!"  Jackson growled, disengaging the security system on his truck.  "And if you value your life, then you won't let it concern you either!"

"How can you ask me to do that?!  I mean, do you honestly think that there is even an ounce of decency in that son of a bitch?!" 

"I think I know the guy a little bit better than you do, so don't even ask me those kind of fucking questions!  He's got his faults, we all do!  But as I said before, what he does with his life and who he does it with, is not our business.  Even if it's Michelle." 

"Don't do this Jackson!  Don't buy in to the bullshit story that he cares for her!  He isn't capable of caring about anyone but himself!"

Deciding that continuing on with the back and forth discussion about Chris' love life was no more productive than it was comfortable, Jackson got inside his truck and closed the door.  After starting up the ignition and lowering his window, he gave Tanner the most serious look he had ever given him.

"You do realize that if he sees you're still on his property, he won't hesitate to shoot your ass."  Jackson stated rather matter-of-factly.

"So that it's it?  You're just going to let this keep going?"

"Truthfully, we really don't have any other choice."

"There's always a choice Jackson.  Your just not making the right one."

And with those final words, Tanner turned back around and headed over to his car.  Sure Jackson may have been taking the easy way out of this situation, but he wasn't about to.  He was determined to put up every road block and obstacle that he possibly could, regardless of what it cost him. 

As he watched Tanner get inside his car, Jackson shook his head with complete astonishment and placed his truck in reverse.  After allowing Tanner to leave first, Jackson backed down the driveway and set out to take care of the day's business.  Hoping that by some miracle the day would continue without any more incidents.

Chapter 180

Once Chantal watched Justin leave, she walked back across to the other side of the room and grabbed one of the small chairs that were resting along side the wall, quietly pulling it back over to Wade's bedside. 

After letting out the breath she didn't realize she was holding, Chantal's eyes began scanning over the numerous cute and bruises that covered the face of her little brother.  The boyish good looks he had always been known for, now masked behind bandages and areas of swelling.  It was almost as if she was looking at a total stranger.

"What happened tonight Wade?"  she whispered, placing her hand gently over his once again. 

As she continued to really look him over, Chantal heard a light knock on the door and glanced back over her shoulder.  As she did, she saw two nurses walk in to the room.  One of them carrying a clipboard full of paperwork.

"Ms. Robson?"  the one nurse asked, flipping over a piece of paper.

"Yes?"

"I know this is probably a bad time, but if I can steal you away from your brother for a few seconds, I have some paperwork I need you to sign for me."

"Ummm.....yeah...sure."  Chantal replied, sliding her chair our slightly so that she could get up. 

Once she walked over to where the nurses were standing, she offered them a slight smile and extended her hand toward them.  As she did, the nurse handed her the clipboard full of paperwork and proceeded to pull a pen from her coat pocket.

After Chantal scanned over the paperwork that needed her signature, she quickly looked up at the two nurses standing before her.  They couldn't be serious.

"You want me to sign authorization giving you permission to restrain him?"

"It's simply a precaution.  Hospital procedure if you will."

"What do you think he is going to do?!  He is in a coma for Christ sake!"

"No, it's nothing like that.  We're not afraid he is going to try and harm one of us.  This is done for his safety.  He's suffered a few seizures since the paramedics picked him up, and we just don't want him hurting himself.  It's nothing more than that."

"Well what about when he wakes up?  Is he still going to have the restraints on then?"

"That's not really our decision to make, but his doctor will go over all of that with you if he wakes up."

"You mean when he wakes up."  Chantal snapped back.

"Yes, when he wakes up, but keep in mind that waking up isn't going to be the deciding factor on whether or not they remove the restraints.  Unless your brother can breathe on his own, the restraints will have to remain in place so that he doesn't pull out his breathing tube.  Trust me, the last thing either of you would want is for us to have to intubate him again."

"He can wake up and still have to deal with all this  The restraints?  The tube down his throat?"

"Unfortunately, yes.  If he wakes up and is still unable breathe on his own, or if breathing proves to be too difficult for him, they will want to keep the breathing tube in place.  He will be given medication though to help keep him comfortable, so it really won't be that much of a concern."

"So basically you're telling me that he will be sedated.  Except this time medically?"

"I know this must be hard for you, but you have to understand we're simply doing what's best for your brother."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Chantal glanced down at the paperwork again.  This was just a nightmare.  Everything she had envisioned for Wade's life, suddenly seeming like the farthest thing from reality.

"I mean..........I can understand where you are coming from, I guess..... but..........it just seems so cruel."  she replied softly, as she stole a quick look back at her brother.  "Are the restraints going to hurt him?" 

"No dear.  The paperwork is simply a formality.  He's actually already been restrained.  They secured him downstairs before they even brought him up here."  she replied, walking the few feet over to Wade's bed.  "See?"  she asked, folding back the side of Wade's sheet to reveal the fabric straps fastened to his wrists.

Feeling the tears begin to well up in her eyes again, Chantal signed where the nurse requested and quickly handed her the clipboard back.  She didn't want to deal with any more of the technical aspect to Wade's care or recovery right now.  All she wanted to do was hold him and tell him that she was there with him.  That everything was going to be alright, that he just needed to hang on.

"Is there anything else you need me to sign, because I would really like to spend some time alone with my brother?"

"No.  I'm pretty sure we have everything in order.  If we do come across anything else though, I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow."  the nurse replied, tucking the clipboard back under her arm.  "Now because of the circumstances, I can give you another hour with your brother, but then after that, you are going to have to leave."

"You mean I can't stay here with him tonight?"

"I'm afraid not. Given the severity of the injuries patients are dealing with up here in the ICU, we have to strictly regulate the visiting hours.  One of the nurses can go over the times with you though when you leave."

Shaking her head with complete disbelief, Chantal let out a slight chuckle of frustration and continued to head back over to her chair.  Unfortunately for her, as soon as she sat back down, she heard her name being called again, this time by someone else.  After letting out a heavy sigh, Chantal glanced over her shoulder once again.

"Chantal, my name is Karen Nadler.  I'm one of the nurses that was taking care of your brother when he was first brought in.  If you don't mind, I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes."

"Look, I only have an hour to spend with my brother before they chase me out of here, so if you found something else for me to sign, or more rules you want me to adhere to, then it's going to have to wait."

"No, it's nothing like that.  I actually just clocked out and should be on my way home."  she said, heading over to where Chantal was sitting.  "But the things is, I made a promise to your brother when he came in to the ER, and I think I'm going to need your help to keep it."

"You talked to Wade when he came in here?!  He was awake?!"  Chantal asked, quickly turning all the way around so that she could face the nurse. 

"Well, we didn't carry on what you would normally consider a conversation, but he did ask me for something, and I told him I would do my best to get it."  she replied, moving closer to Wade's bed to get a good look at him after his surgery. "See, when your brother came in earlier, he was pretty much out of it.  Given the severity of his injuries, and the time that had elapsed before he even arrived here, that's completely expected...and understandable."  she continued, looking over the various stats on his monitor.  "But the thing is, even with the few set backs he had while in the trauma unit, he still managed to pull himself back in to a somewhat state of consciousness to try and speak." 

Envisioning her brother in such a helpless state, with no one in their family there to comfort him in his time of need, Chantal couldn't help but let the tears spill from her eyes once again.  It literally made her sick to her stomach to think of how scared he must have been.  How alone he must have felt.

"I'm sorry."  Chantal said, wiping her eyes off as she stood up to grab a tissue from the small table beside the bed.  "It's just that he's been through so much lately, and help is the last thing he's really wanted from anyone."

"Well, I think he's ready for some now."  she replied, offering Chantal a sympathetic smile.  "Normally when people come through the ER looking like he did, they're not in any condition to even try to speak.  The fact that your brother did tells me that what he had to say carried a great deal of importance with him, and as I said when I came in, that's the reason why I'm here."

"You said he asked for something.  What did he want?"

"It's not what, but rather who."

Glancing back down at her brother, Chantal let out a deep sigh and knew without a doubt that she probably already knew the answer to her own question.  Only one thing had been on Wade's mind these last few weeks and she couldn't imagine tonight being any different.

"Your brother was asking for..."

"He was asking for Michelle."  Chantal interrupted her mid sentence.  "Right?"

"Yeah."  she replied, the expression on her face clearly showing that she was slightly taken by surprise.  "Is this his.....girlfriend?"

"She was, but that whole mess is kind of complicated.  I mean, I know my brother still loves her, but when they were together, he wasn't what you would call a good boyfriend.  In fact, as much as I hate to say it, he was pretty much her worst nightmare."  she sighed, collapsing back down in to her chair as flashbacks of all the times Wade had went off the deep end with Michelle quickly filled her mind.  "To be honest, a lot of really bad stuff went down between them, and...I'm pretty sure that's why he's here.  Someone was looking for vindication.  For what specifically though, I'm not sure of yet."

Not wanting to get in to the specifics of what seemed to be a really horrible situation, the nurse quickly shifted the focus of their conversation to the real reason she was there.

"So, given everything that has happened between the two, you're telling me that the chances of her coming in to see him are pretty slim?"

"She would probably come down here if I asked her to, but I don't know if that's even possible right now.  From what I've heard, she got caught up in whatever put him here and she was only released from the ER herself a few hours ago."

"Well, because I'm not aware of the circumstances surrounding your brother's relationship with his ex, or her condition for that matter, the choice on whether or not she should make an appearance here really rests on your shoulders.  If you would like my opinion though, I'd have to say that I think it would do your brother a world of good right now."

"I know, I just don't know how likely that is to happen.  Especially when everyone surrounding her right now is determined to keep her as far away from him as possible."

"I understand.  And like I said, that decision is best left made by those who are capable of making it."  the nurse said, grabbing a hold of the bunched up sheet by Wade's hand to fix it.

"He didn't happen to say anything else, did he?  Anything at all about what happend to him, or who was involved?"  Chantal asked, grabbing another tissue.

"No, the only thing he said was her name.  But then again, we really only had him back for a few seconds before we began to run in to trouble again."

Nodding her head that she understood, Chantal placed her hand gently on top of Wade's still spiked hair and caressed it gently.  Just hearing her say that Michelle's name was the only thing on Wade's mind literally broke her heart.  She just still didn't understand how he could do the things to her that he had been doing if he loved her as much as it appeared he did.  It was almost as if there were legitimately two different sides of him. 

"Well, I have to get going, but I'd like to stop in and check on him from time to time, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, that's fine.  I appreciate you stopping by with that information too, thank you.  I'm going to do my best to try and get her here for him." Chantal replied, now  questioning whether or not her being there could mean a world of difference for him.

"I'm glad to hear that.  I'm sure Wade would too." 

After walking back around Wade's bed, the nurse placed her hand on Chantal's shoulder and smiled at her. 

"You know, despite everything he's been through, he's still here...fighting.  Don't give up on him." 

"I haven't yet........and I don't plan on it."