Chapter 67

Billie winced as the nurse helped her to carefully maneuver herself into a wheelchair, trying to hide the pain as best she could, suddenly terrified they’d change their minds and refuse to let her leave. Well, if they tried, she’d just leave anyway - she’d had enough of hospitals to last a dozen lifetimes. All she wanted right now was a shower that didn’t come surrounded by grab handles, a meal on a real plate and to sleep in her own bed. Okay, so the third would have to wait until she got back to Kansas, but anything had to be an improvement on the hospital bed she’d been stuck with for the last week or so.

She tugged at the sweater she wore, pulling it out from under her butt, then she smiled up at the nurse.

“Y’know, I could walk to the car.”

“Nope.” The woman replied cheerfully, opening the room door. “Against hospital policy, I’m afraid.” She smiled at someone outside the room, beckoning them in as she continued speaking. “Besides, you have a handsome man here who wants to help you bust out of here.”

Expecting Jay, Billie’s eyes widened when Richie walked into the room, a broad smile on his face.

“Ready to blow dis joint?” He asked, letting the ‘Joisey’ come out strong.

“Oh, hell, yes!” Billie reached to touch the hand he laid on her shoulder. “I didn’t expect you to come get me.”

“Yeah - I know.” He grinned. “But I thought, if you feel up to it, that I’d buy you lunch.”

“Real food?” She mumbled, her stomach growling instant agreement to the plan.

“Yep, real food. I’m thinking steak - veggies - buttery garlic mash…….”

“Sold.”

Richie grinned down at her again, mischief sparkling in his dark eyes. At least Billie thought it was mischief. Mostly. The more time they spent together, the more of a connection she felt, and she was pretty sure he felt it too. She just wasn’t sure where - if anywhere - it could - would - should - lead.

Stamping down hard on the flash of pleasure from the smile on her face, Richie stepped around behind the wheelchair, laying his hands on her shoulders for a moment.

“Ready to roll?”

“Yuh huh.”

The nurse picked up Billie’s bag from the bed, making to hand it to Richie, but Billie grabbed it first, pulling it around to lay it on her lap.

“Hey, don’t hurt yourself!” Richie protested, reaching over her shoulder. “I’ll carry it, keep the weight off you.”

“I’m fine!” Billie snapped. God, I am so sick of being treated like a china doll. Blushing, she moderated her tone a little, looking up at him. “Sorry. But I really am fine, Richie.”

“Okay.”

Richie smiled, the flicker of spirit coming through clearly now, showing him just what had pulled Jon into her arms all those years ago. Sure, his ‘brother’ was like any other guy - show him a hot, willing woman and he’d happily fuck her, particularly when he was on the road, far from home. But to hold his attention much beyond orgasm took something more. Took strength and spirit, and a feisty, ‘think you can control me?’ attitude. Dot had it, that was for sure, and Billie did, too. He shook himself out of his thoughts, gripping the handles of the wheelchair and pushing it toward the door.

On the way to the elevator he paused a few times, as nurses approached to wish Billie well, and he had to smile - even these medical professionals, who’d seen hundreds of patients through the doors - had been taken in by her sweet nature and her refusal to be a victim. Even Doctor Riviello appeared from somewhere, leaning down to hug her firmly.

“I hope you’ll take this in the manner it’s meant.” He grinned. “But I don’t ever want to see you again, Billie!”

“Trust me, I don’t want to see you again either!” She giggled. “At least not in your professional capacity - if I see you on the street, I promise to at least say hi.”

“Good enough. Take care.” Riviello glanced at Richie, not entirely sure of the relationship here. “Take care of her.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“See what I have to deal with here?” Richie smirked. “But at the very least I can feed her. I think she’ll let me do that.”

Billie reached back, flicking a fingernail against Richie’s knuckle. “Hey - not a mirage here - you do know I can hear you?”

“Who said that?”

So it was with laughter that Billie finally left hospital, Richie pushing her into the elevator, then out into the ground floor exit hallway, steering the wheelchair out to the pickup area where a long black car waited. Billie looked at it, then up at Richie as he stopped the chair beside the rear door.

“Just a little over the top, don’t you think?”

“Wha…….? Oh, the car?” He shrugged. “I don’t have a car here, and I figured this was more comfortable than a cab. Also with the tinted glass…….we can get you out of here without the press getting any photos.”

“Press? Oh, hell.”

Billie knew Jon had broken the news of Jay’s paternity, and she knew the media circus that had ensued - hell, what else was there to do in a hospital but watch daytime TV? - but she’d somehow almost forgotten the hushed, serious reporters who’d broadcast from right outside the hospital, explaining everything they knew - which wasn’t much, thankfully - about what had brought her to a hospital room. Somehow she’d lost her identity, at least in the minds of the press, becoming little more than ‘Jon Bon Jovi’s son’s mother’, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Meant that, given a few weeks, and whatever new scandal hit ET’s radar, she could fade back into her own life, where pretty much nobody cared about what was happening anywhere except home.

“Hey, it’s okay, Billie.” Richie came around to crouch by the wheelchair, one of his big hands covering both of hers. “Trust me. Do you care what they all think?”

“Who? The press? Everybody else? No. Not really. I only care what Jay thinks. He’s my only family, and he’s all that matters.”

“And he loves you.” Richie cleared his throat, his eyes earnest as he looked at her. “But you’re wrong about him being your only family, darlin’. You’re part of ‘us’ now. At least as far as I’m concerned. Anything you need - anything - you can come to me.”

Billie’s eyes filled with tears at his words.

“Thank you.” She whispered, cupping her hand around his tanned face.

“You’re welcome.” He said just as quietly, then lifted himself to his feet, his knees protesting the crouched position as he straightened, reaching to open the car door. “Let’s get you out of here.”