Hell To Pay by Trish
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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer in part 1. feedback ......i'm not crazy about this piece....
Hell To Pay
part VII
by Trisha
Sydney waited until the doctor removed the breathing tube from Jarod, before he left for the Centre. Unfortunately he was still in a coma. The doctor attributed it to the trauma his body had been subjected too. Parker gave Sydney the phone number of where she would be staying, never telling him that it was Jarod's apartment. Parker promised to call him, the minute Jarod's condition changed, for better or worse. Parker hoped it would be for the better, and she hoped soon. As long as she checked in with the Centre every so often and feed them a line of bull, she could stay for at least two weeks, after that it. . ..
The only noise that came from the room was his steady breathing, no more machines to aid him, except the IV's that pumped painkillers and nourishment into him. Parker got up out of the chair and stretched her aching back, before she resumed her place in the chair, her hand on his.
"Come on, Jarod, wake up, damn it? What do you want from me?" she put her head down on the mattress and closed her eyes, only for a moment. The movement was subtle, in fact she thought she imagined feeling it at first. His fingers gripped her's, looking up she found herself staring into big brown eyes.
"Par. . ." he tried to speak, his voice hoarse.
"Shhhhh!" she looked into his eyes, which had a million questions reflected in them. Taking a seat on the bed, she gently placed a hand on his cheek,"Welcome back, Jarod!"
He stared at her, his hand clasping hers tightly, as panic filled his eyes.
"Easy, Jarod. You're not in the Centre," she said softly, his panicked look diminishing, slightly. He tried to sit up, but grimaced as a bolt of pain shot through his body.
"Hey, wonder-boy, you just had major surgery. Lie back down. I don't need you to rip open those stitches," she gently eased him back down on the bed.
"Surgery?" he whispered," Why?"
"You were shot," she whispered, " I told Sydney that I wouldn't kill you, but . . .if you are playing mind games. . .."
"Shot?" his breathing was labored and ragged, the look of panic returned.
"Jarod, does the name Wayne Carter mean anything to you?
"No! Should it?" his voice was quiet in timbre and the panic in his eyes caused them to darken.
"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked as she tried to keep the fear out of her voice.
"Being back at the Centre," he looked at her, confused.
"You escaped."
"Did you shoot me?" he said in a very low voice.
Her eyes widened at the question. There was a silence, that seemed to last an eternity, between them.
"No! How can you ask that?" she snapped.
"You always wanted to take me back!" he reminded her.
"So. . .you just assume that I did it! If I did, do you think that I would be here?"her anger getting the best of her.
"I don't know?" he said as he turned his head away from her gaze," Maybe. I'm in no condition to run."
"You son-of-a-bitch," she murmured and got up from the bed, leaving the room in a huff, tears in her eyes, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing them.
He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, trying to remember what happened to him, yet remembering someone asking him to fight, to live, asking God for help.
Feedback please ! Ractrish@aol.com
part VII
by Trisha
Sydney waited until the doctor removed the breathing tube from Jarod, before he left for the Centre. Unfortunately he was still in a coma. The doctor attributed it to the trauma his body had been subjected too. Parker gave Sydney the phone number of where she would be staying, never telling him that it was Jarod's apartment. Parker promised to call him, the minute Jarod's condition changed, for better or worse. Parker hoped it would be for the better, and she hoped soon. As long as she checked in with the Centre every so often and feed them a line of bull, she could stay for at least two weeks, after that it. . ..
The only noise that came from the room was his steady breathing, no more machines to aid him, except the IV's that pumped painkillers and nourishment into him. Parker got up out of the chair and stretched her aching back, before she resumed her place in the chair, her hand on his.
"Come on, Jarod, wake up, damn it? What do you want from me?" she put her head down on the mattress and closed her eyes, only for a moment. The movement was subtle, in fact she thought she imagined feeling it at first. His fingers gripped her's, looking up she found herself staring into big brown eyes.
"Par. . ." he tried to speak, his voice hoarse.
"Shhhhh!" she looked into his eyes, which had a million questions reflected in them. Taking a seat on the bed, she gently placed a hand on his cheek,"Welcome back, Jarod!"
He stared at her, his hand clasping hers tightly, as panic filled his eyes.
"Easy, Jarod. You're not in the Centre," she said softly, his panicked look diminishing, slightly. He tried to sit up, but grimaced as a bolt of pain shot through his body.
"Hey, wonder-boy, you just had major surgery. Lie back down. I don't need you to rip open those stitches," she gently eased him back down on the bed.
"Surgery?" he whispered," Why?"
"You were shot," she whispered, " I told Sydney that I wouldn't kill you, but . . .if you are playing mind games. . .."
"Shot?" his breathing was labored and ragged, the look of panic returned.
"Jarod, does the name Wayne Carter mean anything to you?
"No! Should it?" his voice was quiet in timbre and the panic in his eyes caused them to darken.
"What's the last thing you remember?" she asked as she tried to keep the fear out of her voice.
"Being back at the Centre," he looked at her, confused.
"You escaped."
"Did you shoot me?" he said in a very low voice.
Her eyes widened at the question. There was a silence, that seemed to last an eternity, between them.
"No! How can you ask that?" she snapped.
"You always wanted to take me back!" he reminded her.
"So. . .you just assume that I did it! If I did, do you think that I would be here?"her anger getting the best of her.
"I don't know?" he said as he turned his head away from her gaze," Maybe. I'm in no condition to run."
"You son-of-a-bitch," she murmured and got up from the bed, leaving the room in a huff, tears in her eyes, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing them.
He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, trying to remember what happened to him, yet remembering someone asking him to fight, to live, asking God for help.
Feedback please ! Ractrish@aol.com
