Racing Heart, page 20
“Done? What d’ya mean, done?”
“I’ve worked my fucking arse off for you, Brian, and all you do is use me. I’m sick of having no life. You don’t do anything for me and yet I’m your most loyal employee, well no more.”
Swinging away from him, I go to the bar, grabbing my bag. Then head back around, and past the table he’s slouching at.
“Jordan.” He shouts as I reach the front door.
“I’ve done the line clean; everything is ready for today, and the rotas are all up for the week. Have a good day.”
I sound upbeat, even for my ears.
“What are you doing, you can’t leave.”
I retract my steps back towards the table he’s at, and with my palms on the table, holding up my weight, I lean towards him.
“Take this as my resignation. You can shove your job right up your fucking arse.”
I’m not angry as such but goddamn it, I’m disappointed. Actually no, fuck that, I am angry, he didn’t try to see it from my point of view - the bastard. He’s nothing but an arsehole and I’m best out of it.
All these emotions that run through me invade my mind as I walk to my car. Once I’m sheltered inside, I shout, scream, and punch my steering wheel so hard, I hurt my hand.
“Fuck.” I’m surprised my steering wheel is still on with the abuse it’s taken lately.
Trying to calm myself down enough to drive home, I suck in a ragged breath and start the engine to head back. All the way home, my stomach churns. I thought I’d need to stop the car at one point. I get in the house just in time to empty the contents of my stomach in the kitchen sink.
Great, that’s all I need now is to get sick.
Grabbing the tea towel from the side of the sink, I wipe my mouth on it and throw it to the floor, over by the washing machine. Feeling sorry for myself, I trudge from the kitchen, throwing myself on the couch.
I’ve now got no job, but I don’t have Finn either… Fuck my shitty life. I should never have put my job first before Finn; I should have just said fuck it and gone with him. I close my eyes and think of him back home, really wishing I was with him.
Hey baby. Good morning yourself. You always know how to make me smile. You at work?
How do I tell him that I have no job because I jacked it in? I read his message again - he seems happy. I can’t give him bad news over the phone. I know he’ll bring up that I should’ve gone with him when he left.
Instead, I tell him how shitty I’m feeling...
I miss you. I wish you were back here. I’m not too well.
Waiting for another text to come through, is like waiting for the end of the world. I’m struggling to keep my eyes open, and just as they close for a second, my phone vibrates with a call. Opening them half-mast, I see Finn’s name lighting up my screen.
“Hey baby,” Finn says as soon as I’ve lifted it to my ear, he sounds worried.
“Hey Superstar,” I answer. My voice sounds weak, even to my own ears.
“You sound terrible, what’s wrong?”
“Gee, thanks,” I answer, sarcastically. “I think I have a stomach bug… or maybe it was bad beer.”
“You getting drunk without me?” I hear the amusement in his voice, but I haven’t the energy to smile, let alone cuss him for taking the piss.
“No, it wasn’t even one bottle of beer, it was less than half. I’m not that much of a lightweight and I was at work, but I think it was out of date or something because it’s been ever since I had that. I don’t think it’s that.”
“So, where are you now?”
“At home, on the couch, dying. It’s a good job you’re not here actually, I’m like The Exorcist. No, the Exorcist has nothing on me. I could beat that bitch on projectile.”
“Aw poor baby. I have such an image in my head now. Thanks for that.”
“My pleasure.”
“Have you been to see a doctor?” Finn asks.
“Ugh they’re just shit, and I probably won’t get an appointment for three weeks anyway. In which time, I’ll be better. It’s pointless.”
“Is that just you exaggerating, Red?”
“No, that’s me being realistic.”
“I wish you were here. I could look after you then.”
“You’re in no state to wait on me, babe. How’s physio going?”
“Slow, but there’s plenty of time, there are six months until the next season starts. I want to be back racing before then.”
“Are you telling me I’m not going to see you for six months…?”
My voice rises an octave as I ask. There’s no way I can wait six months to see him.
“No, I’ll be back before then, unless, of course, I can talk you into coming here.”
I don’t answer him… this is all that’s been on my mind since I walked out of my job this morning.
“Jordan? You there?”
“I’m here, I’m just tired babe. I haven’t got the energy to argue.”
“Look, get some sleep, and I’ll ring you after physical therapy later. Love you, babe.”
“Love you too,” I tell him sleepily. “Speak later.”
Two days have passed, and I’m still throwing my guts up. Finn and I have only sent messages to each other. The only other person I’ve spoken to is my bestie. That’s because she’s a nosey fucker and wanted to know what had gone on at work.
What the fuck is going on? I’ve barely eaten anything other than tomato soup, dry biscuits, and drink water. I’ve forgotten the last time I had a decent cup of tea without seeing it again.
The front door opens, I know that can only be one person - Maria.
“Hey fuckface, you still ill?”
Pulling a pillow over my face, I mumble, “Don't even ask.”
She drops down onto the end of the couch, looking over at me with a serious but worried expression on her face.
“Could you be pregnant?”
“I doubt that.”
She shifts the cup, and throw cushion, then leans over me.
“What makes you so sure?”
“We always use protection.”
“Always?”
That gets me thinking, most of the time, I’m sure we had...
“Maybe you should go and see a doctor.”
“Ugh, you know they won’t do anything.”
“I don’t give a shit; you’re going.”
Finding my phone from down the side of me, she unlocks the screen. She’s the only one who knows my passcode and has her thumbprint saved in my security settings. Just in case of emergencies, and I’m saved in hers.
I hear her one-sided conversation with the receptionist. I’d like to say I’m shocked when I hear Maria arguing with the woman on the other end of the phone because she can’t get me in, but honestly, I’m not. I knew that would happen.
“For fuck's sake, do you have to put it in the diary to be sick and phone in advance?” Maria huffs frustrated.
“I did say…” I don’t like to say I told you so, and I really don’t have the energy for it today, so I leave it where it is.
“Have you missed a period?”
I shrug, “Don’t think so…” I force out. “But then my periods are all over the place at the moment anyway, so who knows.”
“Right, get up.” Clutching my hand, she pulls me up from the couch. “We’re going to the walk-in clinic,” Maria says, taking charge and as ever, being my moral support.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t think you realise that you don’t have a bloody choice, and you’re going because I’m going to take you there myself.”
Throwing my Converse over to me from the other side of the room, I slip them on but don’t tie the laces, because I really can’t be arsed. I’m in so much pain from cramps that I can’t bend over anyway. Maria grabs my house keys, while I grab my phone and purse, then follow her out to the car.
After sitting here with the worst stomach cramps ever for the last two hours, I finally get to see a doctor. She orders blood tests and makes me pee in a pot. She asks me to lie on a bed and does her investigations, before asking me to sit back at the desk.
She writes her notes onto the computer, before dipping a stick into my sample, but she also dips a long piece of card into it as well. She begins talking about my cycle and my symptoms while we wait for the longest few minutes of my life.
CHAPTER Forty-Five
Finn
Waking up in my big California king is not like I thought it would be. I thought being back at home would ease me. It hasn’t. The big house I’ve lived in the last eighteen months has become a shell, somewhere to lay my hat but not a home. It’s missing something these days. It’s funny how I’ve felt like this ever since I came home. I wonder if that missing part is Jordan. It’s definitely not the same without her sass and her way of keeping me in line. I must have gotten used to the close living quarters we had when I was recovering. Her house is probably half the size of this one. In fact, you could more than likely fit Jordan’s house inside this and still have room to spare.
I wish she could have come back with me.
The sun is blinding me from the window through the blinds, which means it’s time to get up. Grabbing my phone from the table beside me, I turn it over to look at the time. Usually, there’s a message sitting there, with the time difference between us. I always wake up to her message, but nothing today. Maybe she’s still not well. I bite the inside of my lip, while I think. I’m not sure whether I should call her or not. If she’s asleep, I don’t want to wake her up - she needs the rest while she’s not feeling well.
Usually, every morning and every night, we message each other, it keeps me at ease and gets me through the day. My days have been full while I’ve been having constant PT for my thigh. Although it seems to be going well, it’s not happening quick enough, not for my liking anyway.
I notice that it’s only seven am and sigh. Once I got over the jetlag from coming home, I haven’t really slept that well. It’s been one am when I’ve drifted off to sleep, and I’m up at stupid o’clock the next day… I give up trying anymore.
I roll out of bed and use the bathroom, before grabbing my phone and going downstairs for coffee. One of the main things I looked forward to coming home, was coffee. Brits have no idea. If it hadn’t been for Starbucks over there, I don’t think I’d have survived as long as I did. I sit at the breakfast bar while I wait for the coffee to brew and look through my phone. I still haven’t had anything from Jordan, it’s strange though that she hasn’t texted yet.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee always kickstarts me and I try to put Jordan to the back of my mind. I have PT to contend with first, then I’ll tackle Jordan and see what’s going on.
Once I’m showered, I step out of the stall and grab the large towel from the hook. Wrapping it around me, I go into the bedroom and slip into some sweats and a tee, then go back downstairs for some breakfast.
I’m surprised how quickly I’m ready. I fought off the need to have a soapy one in the shower to thoughts of Jordan. My hand is definitely not the same as being buried inside of her. So for today, just her on my mind will definitely have to do. I mean don’t get me wrong, I had the strongest urge to knock a round off, but I thought the desperate urge I had for her, might drive me on in physical therapy. Hearing the door open from the hallway, I know it can only be one person.
“Any of that coffee going, douchebag?”
“Help yourself.”
The steam floats out of my cup mesmerizing me, before looking down at my phone again and still no message. Biting the bullet, I message her instead…
Good morning beautiful, well afternoon for you. Are you alright? Just checking in, seeing as I’ve had no morning wake up call.
I have physical therapy soon, so I’ll call you later. Love you, baby. X
“Everything alright?” Braydon asks as I put my phone back down. I feel the frown pulling at my forehead, I know Braydon has noticed.
“I haven’t heard from Jordan in a day or so, and she’s starting to worry me.”
“Jordan’s alright. That girl can look after herself, no worries there.”
“I know, but the last time I’d spoken to her she was ill.”
“Maybe she’s sleeping it off,” Braydon answers, being the voice of reason, as always.
He tips his cup back and drinks his coffee. I take a gulp of my now cold one and stand.
“Come on, shithead, let’s get you off to physical therapy.”
With a heavy sigh, I drop my phone into my pocket and grab my house keys before leaving in my brother’s Mustang.
“You’re doing really well, Finn. The way it’s going, I’d probably say after Christmas, you could try getting back on the bike.”
Christmas, is he serious?
“What? That long?” I complain.
“Finn, you have to give the bone time to heal properly. From what I’m seeing today, it’s three times better than it was last week. Maybe next week, if you keep doing your exercises at home, it’ll be five times better. I can’t sign off to get on that bike unless it’s one hundred and ten percent, you know that.”
Staring my therapist down, he takes no fucking notice of me and raises an eyebrow.
“Now come on, raise that leg for me, let’s see what we can do today.”
Braydon gives me the stink eye from the opposite side of the gym. So instead, I lie back on the equipment and do as I’m told, at least for the next forty-five minutes.
By the time my therapist has moved my leg around, left, right, and back again, it’s in a shit ton of pain.
“Right, up you get.” He taps my shoulder in a friendly way, “Get your ass on that treadmill. I want five miles of gentle walking.”
“I can do this at home you know,” I tell him limping over to the machine.
“Then you do ten miles tomorrow at home and thirty to forty-five minutes on the bike.”
I limp over to the treadmill and start my five miles without any more complaining. I just need this fixed so I can get back on that track and beat that motherfucker’s ass next season.
Chapter Forty-Six
Jordan
The pain tears through the bottom part of my stomach as I move from the bed, it’s so bad, I have to hunch over. The doctor looks up and frowns.
“Get back on the bed for me, Jordan, and push your leggings down enough so I can have another look.”
Hitching a leg up while I’m holding my belly, I get back on the bed and wait. She pulls the curtain across after her and begins to feel around my stomach. After a few minutes, she stops and goes to the sink to wash her hands.
“I want you to go to the hospital and have an emergency ultrasound. I’ll make the call, while you straighten yourself up.
What the fuck? Why would I need an ultrasound?
“Why do I need an ultrasound? Am I pregnant?” She takes the dipstick from the sample I gave her and reads it.
“Not according to the dipstick, but I’d be happier if we had some further investigations done.”
“Is it okay if I ask my friend to come in until we’re done?”
“Yes, of course.”
The doctor has such a warm and gentle smile, she eases my nerves just by looking at me. Getting up slowly from the bed, I step out of the room and back into the waiting room to get Maria.
“Hey, would you come in with me?”
She nods, putting the magazine down onto the table but frowns.
“Is everything alright?”
Taking the lead back to the room, I shrug with my palms facing up in a, ‘I have no idea,’ stance. Closing the door behind us, Maria pulls a chair over, sits next to me, and waits for the doctor to speak.
“Okay, I’ve made the call to A & E, they know you’re on the way. Book in at the front desk, and they’ll send you straight through. That’s a letter for the desk and it’ll tell them everything they need to know and also my suspicions.”
She pushes the letter across the desk towards me.
“What do you think is wrong with me?”
“Well, with the pain your having and the irregularity of your periods and of course the vomiting, I suspect you’re having an ectopic pregnancy, but without a scan, I can’t be sure, so let’s not rule that out.”
Fuck. Where’s Finn when I need him?
“What does that mean?
Maria touches my arm.
“What does this even mean?”
I’m beginning to get anxious. My heartbeat quickens, I can feel the pulse in my neck pounding, and the sweat begins to bead on my forehead.
I feel sick again.
“As I said, without the scan, we can’t know for sure, and it’s not my field; you need to see a gynaecologist. Will you be going up there right now?”
“Erm, yeah.”
“Okay.” She nods, “You’ll be fine.” She winks.
Standing from our chairs at the same time, we thank the doctor and head out of the walk-in clinic and make our way to the hospital.
Once there, I hand over the letter to the receptionist and fill in my details. She then sends me through to the main waiting room, tells me to take a seat, and wait to be called.
My nerves are shot, my hands are trembling, and my knee can’t stop bouncing. Looking at the blank screen of my phone, I wonder whether I should call Finn now, or wait until I know more. Thinking on it for a second or so, I decide to wait at least there'll be something I can tell him and not just speculation and assumptions. I’m absolutely crapping my pants here, but there’s one thing I know for sure; I need Finn.
Over the next couple of hours, I’m whipped in and out of rooms with nurses. I’ve been felt up, poked and prodded and next off, I’m sent off to imaging for a scan. Maria has only left my side to call Charley’s nan, and that’s so she can grab her from school.
