One Weekend with the Billionaire Chapter 90

*Braxton*

I lie awake, staring at the ceiling above my bed, unable to sleep, though it’s getting late, and I know I have to go to work tomorrow. I can’t help but stretch my arm out across the bed, which I find cold and empty. Julia should be here, but she’s not. My thoughts return to her. Where is she now? How is she doing? Is Thompson with her? Is she hurt? Does she need me? My mind refuses to slow as all of the possibilities circle around. I wonder if I will ever be able to get her back.

My phone is on, just in case she calls. I get all sorts of emails all time of day, so it is constantly chirping. I have learned to ignore it. Until I realize it isn’t just chiming to let me know an email has arrived. The phone is ringing.

Hastily, I pick it up from my nightstand, praying that it’s Julia, but when I see that it is Stringer, my heart races just the same. I pray he has good news, that he’s gotten Julia back, and they are on their way to my home.

“Stringer?” I say upon answering. “What’s going on?”

I can tell immediately that something is wrong. “It’s Julia, sir. She’s been injured. We are at the hospital. You should come immediately.”

I sit up straight in bed, my heart skipping a few beats as I automatically jump from my bed, looking for something suitable to wear. “My God, Stringer. What’s happened?”

“It’s hard to explain, sir,” he says, out of breath. “I heard arguing, so I went next door to check on Julia. I entered the apartment just in time to see Thompson rushing her. She stepped aside, and he went through the window. She managed to grab a hold of him, but then he ended up pulling her out the window, too. I grabbed her arm just in time to keep her from falling. The glass cut her chest and knees when she went through the window, as well as her hand that was on the sill. She’s stable, but they are rushing her to surgery for her hand.”

I can hardly process everything he is saying, it seemed so unbelievable. Yet, I know it had to be true. “She’ll be okay?” I clarify. I need to know she isn’t going to pass away.

“Yes, I believe so,” he says, and I feel slightly better, though I am still on edge. I juggle my phone as I get dressed and head down the stairs. I run into a servant on the stairs and order him to go get the driver quickly. I would like to drive myself because I could get there faster, but I know I am in no state to drive.

“It’s just her hand that is severely injured,” Stringer assures me.

I am almost to the garage when I ask the next question. Now that I know that Julia will recover, I have to ask, “What about Thompson? Did he fall?”

“Yes,” Stringer says. “He is dead. He fell from her grasp and landed on a car beneath their apartment. He was dead on impact.”

I take a deep breath, not sure how I felt about that. I know that Julia will be upset that Thompson is dead, even though I’m secretly happy that he is out of our lives now and can no longer hurt us or try to take Julia away from me. “Is there any chance that anyone will try to blame Julia?”

I get into the back seat of my car as the driver arrives and gets into the driver seat. I tell him to go to the City Hospital as fast as he can go, and nods. Stringer says, “I don’t believe so. I saw the entire incident. Julia did nothing wrong. Kyle Warren is a snake, though, so who knows. I can’t imagine the district attorney would want to pursue charges against her. The only thing is, when he said that he wanted her to die, too, she did kick him a few times to knock him loose.”

I have to think about that for a moment. “Did anyone see?”

“There was a crowd below them by then, so yes. But she had no choice. He was literally trying to pull her away from me.”

“That doesn’t sound good, but I hope it won’t be a problem,” I say. “Can you call Shawna and have her meet me at the hospital?”

“Of course,” he says. “Cindy will want to know as well. She’s so fond of Julia.”

“Yes, let her know. All right. Thank you, Stringer. If anything changes, let me know. Otherwise, I will be there soon.”

“Yes, sir,” Stringer says before he hangs up.

I look out the window and notice the scenery isn’t flying by quite as quickly as I would like. I call the driver and tell him to speed it up, which he does, though I still don’t think I’m going fast enough.

It takes about a half an hour to reach the hospital. He pulls to a stop in front of the door, and I jump out, sprinting past security to the front desk. A nurse there looks bothered and annoyed at my haste. “Julia Thompson?” I shout at her.

She blinks a few times and says, “Fifth floor.”

I run toward the elevator as she calls after me to slow down, but I don’t. The elevator comes quickly enough but it seems to take forever for it to climb to the floor. By the time I get off, I am also bothered and annoyed. I get off and see Stringer at the end of the hall, Cindy at his side, looking worried. I run to them, and she wraps her arms around me. I pat her back and look at Stringer. “Any updates?’

“The doctor came out a few minutes ago and said the surgery is going well, but she may have nerve damage in her hand.”

I nod, glad that is the only problem, though I know how important Julia’s hands are to her as an artist. I ask a question that may mean the difference between her picking up a paintbrush again and being done. “Which hand?”

“It’s her left,” Stringer tells me, which is a good thing because Julia is right handed. I let out a small sigh, glad that it shouldn’t affect her art too much, though my heart hurts for her. At least Thompson is gone to a place where he can't hurt her ever again. I realize I need to call Julia’s parents. They will hear on the news and be worried. I have never spoken to them before, but I have their numbers in my phone. With a sigh, a step away and dial her mom’s number, not sure how to tell her that Jeff is dead.

The phone rings several times before a groggy female voice says, “Hello?”

“Hello. This is Braxton Merriweather. I’m sorry to say there’s been an incident….”