Suit - Woodruff Jettie. Страница 6

“How do you feel?” a nurse said from my side. Her voice soft and sweet. The room was dark and quiet. Nobody but the nurse and me.

“Like I was hit by a truck. Was I?”

“You were in a car wreck. From what I understand, you rolled it a couple times. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Was I alone?”

“You were alone. Eighty miles from home,” a deep voice said from the door. The same man with the backwards ball cap stepped in from the hall. This time without the hat. His eyes bore into me while his breath blew steam from a cup of coffee. My eyes narrowed to the man, focusing like hell, trying to place him. Nothing about him was familiar to me. Nothing at all. The guy gave the nurse a look and she cowered like a scared kitten. Her eyes moved to the floor when he looked at her, expression telling her to leave. Even without words, I read it loud and clear. So did the nurse.

“I’m going to get things ready. Dr. Mirage wants to get another CT scan.”

“Is it bad? What’s wrong with me?” I was more concerned with my condition than jerk. I knew without knowing that he was my husband.  Not only was I broken, I was married to a dick. Trying to make sense of everything had me whirling with thoughts. One second I would be trying to place who my mother was, and wondering what my name was the next. Searching deep into my mind for answers that didn’t seem to come.

“The doctor will be into talk to you shortly. You’re a very lucky girl,” she said again as she smiled, dismissing herself from my room. An uneasy feeling fell over me once I realized I was alone with him.

His head tilted to the side and he smiled at me, but not a nice smile. He was angry with me. Maybe we had a fight or something before the accident.

“Pretending that you don’t know who you are won’t save you.”

“What? Save me from what?” I questioned, eyebrows taking a sharp dive to the bridge of my nose. He did some sort of clicking thing with his tongue and sipped his coffee. His haunting eyes glared at me through steam, the smirk never leaving his face.

Steam rose from the cup when he set it on my stand and turned to me. I watched him lick his lips and come to my side. My eyes shifted from his cool expression to his fingers. I stared down at my shoulder when two fingers slid down my arm to the tips of my fingers. Silence except for the beeping and the loud thump in my chest occupied the room. I stared at his face unable to speak while he held the tips of my fingers in his hand. The pillow behind my head kept me from moving away from him when he lowered his lips to mine.

“Keep it up. I’m actually enjoying the fuck out of this. Just thinking about starting over makes my dick hard,” he said with admittance to my lips with soft warm words. My lips stayed in a thin, straight line while he kissed me. A grunt fell from my chest when I jerked in pain, trying to move away. Something pulled me to him. Something besides the cologne, and I knew without a doubt, he was my husband. Good Lord! I was broken and stupid.

“Please tell me I’m not married to you,” I said, pleading eyes boring into his while I tried to use my broken hand to sit up. My so called husband just stood there, not even offering to help. I struggled on my own until I reached the control for the bed.

“Oh yes. I own you, Gabriella Pierce,” he said while assuring me with some sort of creepy, power trip, tone. Hoarse and raspy. What the hell?

“Wait. You own me? You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking. I don’t even know your name.” Unbelievable. If this guy thought for one second I was about to bow down to him, he had another think coming. No way.

Again he moved closer to my lips and I let him. By instinct, my eyes lowered to my lap. He lifted my chin with one finger and kissed me again. Pain moved down my neck to my spine. Once again I let him kiss me with a warm, soft kiss. Fire and ice, burning my lips.

“I own you, I own the girls, and I own the house. I pay for it. You work for me. I pay you, and … the name’s Paxton. You can call me Paxton. Of course I’m sure you already know that, but hey. Let’s play games, shall we?”

This wasn’t real life. People didn’t really act like this. Who in the world did this guy think he was? My mind blurred with thoughts, but no memories. I didn’t know this guy from the nurses. His hand caressed my tender ribs, and his lips once again met mine. My breath caught in my lungs when his thumb brushed back and forth over my sore body. My hip and my side. I’m not sure if my lips parted on their own or if he did it, but there was definitely tongue.

“Hello, Mrs. Pierce. How are you feeling?” a different doctor from before asked, interrupting the kiss. I was so confused. One second this guy was a threat, and the next he was intoxicating. Why couldn’t I just remember? Paxton took a step back, leaving me with a kiss to my forehead. That hurt, too. Everything hurt.

“I would say I’ve been better, but I don’t know if that’s the truth or not.”

“Yes, Dr. Mirage and I spoke. Unfortunately, I’m not a neurologist. I’m your orthopedic doctor. You’re a lucky girl.”

“So, I’ve been told. How long have I been here?”

“You’ve been in an induced coma for nine days. You suffered a ruptured spleen, a couple broken bones, and a serious head injury. Your brain was swollen severely. That’s why you’ve been in a coma. Your brain needed the time to recover. Like I said. You’re very lucky. All of this is going to heal. You’re still here and that’s all that matters,” the doctor said while his hand waved down my body, demonstrating all that needed to heal. Everything.

My memory was working just fine from coma on. I remembered all the things that Paxton said he owned. My head snapped to him, and I grimaced in pain. Gah. Stop doing that. Dark green eyes stared back. A look of pure spite was perceived from the look in his eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was a smirk, or spy-like. Like a predator, waiting for me to slip so he could catch me.

“You said girls. What girls?” I questioned with my eyebrows turned in sharply.

Paxton crossed one arm over the other. “Our daughters, Rowan and Ophelia.”

“Hi, we’re here to take you down for another scan,” a male nurse said as he entered with a girl carrying a chart. My chart. My orders.

“We’ll talk later, Love. Go get better so we can go home,” Paxton said with a wink over the brim of hot the coffee cup.

My eyes rolled to his while my bed was wheeled out. This was all wrong. It didn’t feel right. Rowan? Ophelia?

“I don’t know that man. I don’t think he’s my husband at all,” I whispered to the nurse above my head.

The guy nurse knelt to my ear from above as wheeled me down the hall. The smell of men’s cologne reaching my nose before his words met my ear. “Let’s get a good look at your brain. See what’s going on there.”

I held the air in my lungs when I realized he wasn’t about to get in the middle of that one. Why would he? He only wanted to do what was on his orders. Do his job and clock out. I was on my own until I could figure out what to do.

Paxton was gone when I returned to my room. Thank God. I needed time to figure things out. Figure out what to do. Where to go. Surely I had parents somewhere.

The trip for the scan of my brain exhausted me. It left me feeling like I had been run over by that truck again. I let darkness takeover once again, dozing to the monotone beeping. There were no visons of a past, no recollections of who I was or where I had come from. Nothing but unconscious darkness.

The next time I woke the window revealed darkness. I felt irritated, but wasn’t sure why. Maybe because the neurologist never came like he said he would. Maybe because I hurt. I hurt everywhere. Even my eyes. Maybe the agitation came from seeing him. Why? Why was he there? Why couldn’t he just go away? I gave him a dirty look and hit my call button.