I feel like I'm always apologizing

No, I have not forgotten about Patrick and Gabby. There's still so much for them to go through coming up, but life has gotten in the way of writing it all out and sharing it with you all. I'm so sorry, but hopefully I'll have an update up sometime soon. Thanks for your patience!

Chapter 37

Patrick practically leapt out of Tazer’s truck before it even came to a complete stop. Even so, Tazer was hot on his heels as he ran into the hospital. He’d called Quentin Monahan back on his way here to find out what room Gabrielle was in. Now he was weaving through people to the elevator that would take him to her floor.

He and Tazer both stood impatiently as the elevator seemed to stop on every floor on the way up. When they’d finally reached the floor they both ran out and headed straight to where Patrick could see Quentin standing outside of a room. Quentin glanced up at the commotion in surprise only to hold his hands out to slow the two of them as they approached.

“Where is she?” Patrick asked in a panic.

“In the room behind me. Whoa, hold on. We need to talk,” Quentin said, holding out a hand to stop him from rushing in.

“Let me just see her!” he insisted, desperate to know if Gabrielle was okay or not.

“Sharpie,” he heard Tazer whisper as he placed a hand on his shoulder. Patrick let out a deep breath but then nodded.

“What was Gabrielle doing at her apartment?” Quentin asked. Patrick’s eyes widened in surprise. Her apartment? Gabrielle wouldn’t have gone to her apartment.

“What do you mean? She was there?” he asked. Quentin narrowed his eyes a little and nodded.

“You didn’t know that she’d go back there?” Patrick shook his head.

“We got into a fight. She moved out of my place a week ago. She told me she was staying with a friend. I have no idea why she’d go back there. She knew it was the one place Vince could get to her.”

“You two had a fight?” Quentin questioned. Patrick suddenly understood what was going on and held his hands up in self defense.

“Hey, am I a suspect here? I was out all night. I was with Tazer here,” he said pointing over at him. Quentin sighed.

“No, you’re not. These are just standard questions I have to ask. We talked to the neighbors. Apparently Gabrielle had been living in her apartment for the past week,” Quentin told him.

Patrick felt sick. She’d lied to him. She’d lied right to his face about where she’d be staying when she walked out. It was part of the reason he’d let her go, because he thought she’d be safe. To think that she’d rather be alone in her apartment while Vince was out there and could easily get to her instead of be with him hurt more than anything else had ever hurt him before.

“A neighbor heard crashing coming from Gabrielle’s apartment and knowing what had happened before called the police. Whoever was there was gone when they arrived, but another neighbor had seen a man with a ponytail and facial hair that he’d never seen in the building before walking down the hallway just before police arrived,” Quentin continued.

“I can’t believe she’d do that. I don’t understand. Is she going to be okay?”

That moment was just like a bad TV show. It was like how just as someone happens to mentions something, something related to that statement miraculously seems to happen at that exact moment. Suddenly there was a sort of alarm going off from the room Gabrielle was in and nurses and doctors began to rush in, pushing them all out of the way. Patrick watched from the window as Gabrielle was surrounded by them.

He couldn’t see what they were doing to her. He had no idea what was even wrong. All he knew was that Gabrielle was in the hospital and something was happening to her right now. He watched in horror as the doctors yanked the bed away from the wall and pushed it out of the room. He watched helplessly as they pushed her unconscious body past him and down the hall towards the OR.

“No. Gabby, no,” he managed to choke out, covering his face with his hands.

Tazer helped him to a chair in a waiting area where he sat and stared at the floor, rocking, shaking, and wringing his hands nervously. He couldn’t lose her. If anything, this had shown him that he needed her in his life. He didn’t know how he’d go on if she was gone. He waited in silence, even as a few of his other teammates showed up to wait with him.

A doctor walked out and immediately made his way over to Quentin, who had stuck around as well. Patrick figured there’d at least be one cop here at all times to look out for Vince in case he’d decided he hadn’t had enough. It didn’t occur to him until this moment that maybe they were waiting to see if they were going to charge Vince when they caught him with battery or murder.

“What’s going on? Is she okay?” Patrick questioned, making his way over to the doctor and Quentin.

“She’s stable. Her brain was swelling and she wasn’t getting enough oxygen so we had to remove a piece of her skull and relieve the pressure. It seems to be under control. We’ll have to wait and see on the rest until she wakes up,” the surgeon explained. It all sounded horrible to Patrick, but there had been two words he hadn’t missed.

“She will wake up?” he questioned.

“We can’t know for sure. There was a lot of trauma to the head, but she seems to be a fighter. I’m optimistic that she will, but the longer she’s unconscious the less likely it will become.” Patrick nodded and let out a deep breath.

“Can I see her?” he asked.

The surgeon led him and the group of his teammates who were here with him to another room. They were informed only one person was allowed inside at a time, but that wasn’t an issue. Only Patrick was going to go in, the rest of the guys were just there as support. He was told what to expect to see when he went in, but it didn’t take any of the shock away.

Gabrielle was lying there with a bandage wrapped all the way around her head. Her face was swollen and all different shades of black, red, and purple. There were stitches in her left eyebrow and cheek, and her lip was split. If they hadn’t told him it was Gabby, he might have had a difficult time recognizing her. He sat down in the chair next to her and grabbed her hand.

“Gabby, it’s Patrick. I’m here, Babe. I’m going to be right here until you wake up. I don’t care what happened with us a week ago. I just need you to wake up. I need to see those beautiful eyes again. Do me that one favor and please wake up soon,” he begged. He didn’t know if she could hear him, but he talked to her anyway.

“Excuse me, Mr. Sharp?” a woman’s voice called to him from the door. He turned to see a nurse standing there motioning for him to follow her into the hallway. He gave Gabrielle’s hand a kiss before doing just that. “There is no contact information for Miss Tunney and I was wondering if you knew about any family we should inform.”

“No. There’s no family. I mean, she has them, but they don’t speak and haven’t in 10 years.” The nurse nodded and made a note. Patrick suddenly remembered something then. “Wait, there is someone. Olivia. She took Gabrielle in when her family kicked her out. She’s like a mother to her. I have her number.”

Patrick pulled the number up on his phone and gave it to the nurse to copy down. Once she had he went back into Gabrielle’s room to wait. He wasn’t going to leave this room again until she woke up. It didn’t matter how long it took, he wasn’t leaving, because he just knew that eventually Gabrielle was going to wake up.










I could faintly make out a beeping sound that seemed to get louder each beep. I couldn’t figure out what it could possibly be. Then the foggy feeling struck me. It was a strange feeling, one I couldn’t figure out either. The throbbing came last. It wasn’t necessarily painful, just unpleasant, and it seemed to me that it might hurt if I didn’t feel like I was so out of it.

I struggled to figure out why the hell I felt like this and what the hell was beeping as I began to open my eyes. My first instinct was to close them again as soon as the light hit them, but I had to figure out what was going on. I forced my eyes to open, batting my eyelids a few times to try to help the process.

“Gabby?” I heard a voice say. I felt someone squeeze my hand and I turned my head slightly to see who was there. The pain that shot through me at the movement told me what a bad idea that had been.

“Patrick?” I asked, the voice suddenly recognizable.

“Oh, god, you’re okay.” Okay was relative at this point in time, I thought.

“What’s going on? Where am I?” I asked, his face coming into view.

“You’re in the hospital,” he told me.

Before I had a chance to ask him what had happened there was a flurry of movement and I saw more people enter the room. Patrick backed away as the doctor and nurse approached me. I was asked a few questions about how I felt and I answered them the best I could. Finally I had my unspoken question answered.

“You were attacked last night,” Patrick told me as I looked up at him. I could see Quentin standing beside him.

“I was what?” Someone had attacked me?

“Do you remember anything?” Quentin asked. I closed my eyes and tried to think, to remember. My mind drew a blank and I opened my eyes to tell them.

“No, I don’t…..” Suddenly I had a flash of memory. “Oh, Jesus, it was Vince.”

“Are you sure?” Quentin asked. Was I sure? Was what I was remembering from last night or from the time he’d attacked me before?

“Yeah, I think so.” I pictured Vince in my mind and tried to figure it out. That’s when I realized I was picturing Vince with a ponytail and facial hair, neither of which he had when he’d first attacked me. “Yes, it was Vince.”

“Can you tell me what happened? Anything you remember?” Quentin prodded.

I closed my eyes again and struggled to remember what had actually happened. I told him what I could remember, and some of his questions prodded new pieces to pop into my mind. I watched as Patrick’s face twisted into shock and anger as I talked. He looked ready to kill somebody.

After I finished telling Quentin all that I could remember I began to feel tired. I knew from my previous experiences in the hospital that it was probably from the drugs. Quentin left the room and Patrick sat down in a chair next to the bed. I looked over at him and our eyes connected. I could see the worry in them.

“You’re here,” I finally managed to choke out, tears filling my eyes.

“Of course I am. I couldn’t be anywhere else right now,” he told me.

I did my best to smile over at him as he gave my hand a squeeze. I wanted to stay awake, to talk to him, but my body had other ideas. The last thing I remembered thinking was how happy I was that he was there by my side.

Chapter 36

I walked out of Paige’s after giving Loxley a long hug. I missed not having him around all the time, but I hadn’t wanted to risk anything happening to him if Vince got to me. Now I may not have to worry about that anymore if tomorrow went the way I hoped it would.

I was still planning on going over to Patrick’s in the afternoon. I fully intended on groveling at his feet and begging for him to forgive my momentary lapse of sanity. I knew how I really felt about him now, and I wasn’t afraid of it anymore. Hopefully he’d be able to forgive me for what had to be the millionth time in our relationship.

I got out of my car and walked inside the building, stopping to grab my mail on the way. The entire ride up the elevator and walk down the hallway to my apartment door I practiced and revised the speech I was going to give him in my head.

I was so distracted that I realized just a second too late that the doorknob had turned in my hand before the key had unlocked it. I nearly stumbled through the doorway in surprise. I caught myself even as my brain screamed at me to turn around and run.

My legs didn’t react in time. The world went dark before I ever saw anything coming. Suddenly I felt like a thousand sharp objects were being shot through my skull. My head was throbbing and I quickly remembered feeling like this once before in my life. My vision began to come back slowly, but everything was still blurry.

At some point I realized I was lying on the ground surrounded by my mail. I let out a groan of pain as a bout of dizziness joined the stabbing sensation. I tried to move, to push myself up off of the floor, but it didn’t seem as if my brain and the rest of my body were currently connected. Then a blurry figure moved into view.

“Hello, Gabrielle.” My stomach clenched at the sound of the voice.

Suddenly I felt my arm being grabbed and then I was being pulled up to my feet. I struggled to get my feet under me and hold me up. I could see clearer now and took in the sight of my attacker as he stood and grinned at me.

Ten years in prison maybe have gone by, but Vince didn’t look all that different. His hair was longer, pulled back into a ponytail. He had a goatee that I’d never seen on him before. The one thing that hadn’t changed at all was that sick expression. It was the same one he’d worn the night he had beaten and raped me.

“Vince,” I managed to choke out. He laughed at the sound of his name.

“Good, you remember me.” Like I would have ever been able to forget him. “It’s nice of you to let me into your home.”

“What are you doing here?” I chose my words carefully to try to keep from angering him. I figured that as long as I kept him talking I might be able to find a way out of this.

“I just wanted to visit an old friend.” He was still gripping my arm and began to pull me into the living area, and further away from the door.

“You greet friends like this often?” I asked. I grimaced as soon as it came out of my mouth, but I hadn’t been able to help myself.

“Friends that send me to prison, yeah,” he growled at me. He threw me down onto the couch and then sat down next to me. “I thought we could talk.”

“About what?”

“The last ten years of my life. Did you know that prison isn’t a cake walk? It seems there’s a hierarchy among criminals if you can believe that. Guess where convicted rapists land on the totem pole.” I looked at him, but didn't respond. “They’re a fucking step above pedophiles, Gabrielle. The fucking bottom!”

His fist connected with my cheek as he yelled out the last sentence. I let out a cry of pain and surprise at the action. Immediately I put my hands up to my face and when I pulled them away I saw blood on them and tasted it in my mouth. I needed to find a way out of here, and fast.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“You’re sorry? You’re fucking sorry?!” he yelled jumping up from the couch to tower over me. “You should be. You put me in that hell hole. You ruined my life. While I was in there rotting away you were out here living the life apparently,” he said gesturing to my apartment.

I could feel the two blows to my head starting to get to me. My vision was less than perfect and I could feel my eye swelling shut. I didn’t have a whole lot of time to make my move and get away from him. I watched him as he paced around my apartment continuing to rant about how I’d ruined his life.

I swallowed hard as I tried to gauge his route and his speed. I wasn’t paying any attention to the things he was saying anymore, I was just trying to focus on his movements. Then I saw it, my only chance. He had his back to me and was as far from me as he could really get. I gritted my teeth against the pain, jumped up from the couch and ran for the door.

“You bitch!” I heard him yell from behind me. His footsteps echoed through the apartment as he chased me.

“Help me! Someone please!” I screamed as loud as I could.

I was nearly at the door when I felt my legs being knocked out from under me. I yelled in pain as I hit the floor with a thud. Vince spun me around so I was facing up as he grabbed my ankle and dragged me across the floor. I started to scream out again, but Vince pulled me up and clasped a hand over my mouth. Then he threw me back against the wall, my head hitting it hard. The dizziness started to take over.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up! I’ve had it with you!” I struggled in his arms, but he pulled me into the bedroom and threw me down on the bed.

“Stop, please, stop,” I begged him.

“You fucked with the wrong guy,” he spat at me.

He hit me again and I could feel my strength draining out of me. I wondered if this time he was going to make it count, if he was going to finish the job and kill me this time around. The pain and dizziness took over and closing my eyes and giving up seemed so appealing. I tried to fight back, but didn’t have it in me.

I fell into near unconsciousness as I felt him tear my clothing off and rape me again. Tears fell from my eyes as I lay there unable to do anything about it. This wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve to die this way without being able to tell Patrick how I really felt. He was my last thought before my entire world drifted off into total blackness.










Patrick walked out of the locker room pissed off. They’d lost and on a flukey fucking goal too. That goal was fucking bullshit bouncing off the glass the way it did. That’s how they lost, on a fucking lucky bounce? He was absolutely livid.

He knew that it shouldn’t have pissed him off that much. Those things happened and it really wasn’t anyone’s fault. They’d won four straight games before this loss so it wasn’t exactly a crippling loss either. It didn’t matter. He’d been pissed off for a week now.

“Want to grab some beers?” Burs called over to him.

They had tomorrow off, so yeah, he did. He left his car in the parking lot and hopped into Burish’s front seat. Let Burs drive tonight, because he really needed more than just a beer or two. Fuck it, he’d take a cab home if he had to.

“Talked to Gabby lately?” Tazer asked him as they sat at a table in some club downtown somewhere.

“No,” he growled out and finished the beer in his hand.

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

He glanced out at the dance floor and saw Kaner out there with three chicks hanging off of him. The other guys were either talking or dancing with their girlfriends or hitting on girls. Even Burs had ditched him to talk up some broad at the bar. Only Tazer had stayed back with him, but that was like him. He didn’t like to make a scene of himself.

“I think you have to, no matter what the outcome of the conversation is.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you can’t go on like this. You need to know whether things can be fixed or if they’re over. Not having a clue is taking its toll on you, and you know it.”

Tazer was right, he had to talk to Gabrielle, and he had to do it soon. He pulled out his phone and pulled her name up. Then he caught sight of Tazer shaking his head. He nodded and put his phone away. It was far too loud in here, and he was far too drunk to have any sort of important conversation right now.

Not wanting to stick around and watch his teammates dry hump broads on the dance floor before they made it home and did the real thing, he tossed money on the table and headed for the exit. It wasn’t until Patrick was in a moving cab that he realized just how drunk he was. He never got like this. He was going to have to talk to Gabrielle soon, maybe even tomorrow.

The cab dropped him off and he stumbled up to his front door. It took him a few minutes to find the right key to let him in the house. He didn’t even bother changing before falling into bed. He simply dropped his suit jacket on the floor, and slipped his shoes off. Then he let his body fall, felt the bed shift under his weight before he was out.

The sound of a ringing phone woke him up. His head was pounding and all he knew was that he needed to stop that sound immediately. He groped around the nightstand next to the bed trying to find it before realizing that his phone was in his jacket pocket. He put a pillow over his head instead of getting up, and the ringing stopped.

He let out a sigh of relief and tried his best to forget the headache and spinning of his head so he could fall back to sleep. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for or even what time it was. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be awake right now. He just wanted to sleep off the beer.

The sound of the phone began again and he groaned in annoyance. He was going to murder whoever was calling him right now. He debated ignoring it again, but changed his mind. He pulled himself out of bed and dug the phone out of his jacket pocket. He didn’t recognize the number on the screen.

“Hello?” he grumbled out.

“Patrick? It’s Officer Monahan.” The officer’s name snapped him to attention.

“What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly on alert.

“It’s Gabrielle,” Officer Monahan began. Patrick suddenly felt sick.

“Gabby? What’s wrong with Gabby? Is she okay?” He fired the questions into the phone, desperate to hear that she was fine, cursing himself for letting her walk out the door the entire time.

“She’s in the hospital, Patrick. It’s not good…..”

“What hospital?” Patrick cut him off. Officer Monahan rambled off the name and Patrick grabbed his keys and ran into the garage, only to find his car wasn’t there. Fuck, of all night’s…..He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“Sharpie?” a groggy voice answered.

“Tazer, I need you to get your ass over here and pick me up now,” he demanded.