3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Eva
Low grumbles and a man’s constant protesting filter into the serene space I’m occupying. Sitting watching the sun set behind the horizon, the world’s moving so slowly. I’ve not got a care in the world for anything around me. It’s peaceful.
Until I can hear the urgency of the voice once more, and the sterile smell hits my nose.
Something’s wrong.
The man speaks again, this time his words carrying a little louder, the volume increasing to dizzying heights. “I’ve told you; I brought her in here!”
Brought me in here ?
“Get your hands off me!” He sounds stressed.
No. This isn’t right. When my dad and I watch the sun setting, we never speak. We take in the beauty for what it is; no one’s there to disrupt us. We make the most of what time we have. This is loud and confusing, the exact opposite of those moments.
“I told you to calm down.” The dominant voice asserting authority over whoever keeps shouting, manages to gain control.
“Okay, okay,” he says in a rush. “I swear, I just brought her here but I’ll go. I don’t want any trouble. Please, just make sure she’s okay.”
Who brought me in here? Who doesn’t want any trouble? My brain wakes up a little and I try to open one eye, failing miserably .
I hear the shuffling of feet and the dragging of a curtain, and when a machine beeps, I know where I am. I’m not with my dad. I’m in a hospital.
Shit.
My brain snaps my limbs into action, waking them from the deep rest they seem to have been in. With a jolt, I lift one leg, instantly regretting my decision. I grimace on a groan and grab my side, my heavy eyes just managing to catch sight of a nurse and the back of a police officer.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough movement from you.” I relax when I hear her voice, knowing she’s talking to me when a gentle hand rests on my arm; the one grabbing the side of the bed like I’m possessed.
What nails I do have, menacingly curl into the plastic rail penning me in as my other hand holds my side.
“Lie back down,” I’m told, her hands trying to guide me.
“It hurts.” My eyes are jammed shut, my teeth grinding together.
“I’m not surprised. You’re very lucky the stab wound isn’t more serious.” Her hands begin moving my damp, cold clothes away from my side as I hear more people frantically enter the cubicle.
My head hits the pillow. Stabbed? “What happened?” I remember Ben telling me to run, but that’s it.
“We’re not worried about that right now. My first priority is to make sure you’re okay. You’ve lost a lot of blood. I’m going to give you something for the pain and my team are going to make sure you’re okay.”
I don’t argue with her as men and women move around the bed I’m on. Their fast-paced urgency has me closing my eyes, feeling my body being pushed and pulled until I feel myself floating, getting lighter, heading back to the peaceful place.
When I wake, my eyes feel weighted down as though they’re taped shut. I swallow and pull them open, my throat instantly dry from the lack of water. It scratches and burns as bright, white lights force me to close my eyes again.
“Eva?” I hear the nurse’s voice before I see her.
I hum my response, managing to open one eye. “Thirsty,” I croak, my voice cracked and raw .
The short nurse moves to fetch a cup, filling it and bringing it towards me. She lifts a straw to my lips, and I’ve never been so grateful for fluids.
Taking a large sip, I move my head slowly back to my pillow, opening both weary eyes when she moves back. “Where am I?” My eyes search for any clues.
“District General Hospital,” the nurse replies, making me relax.
“How did I get here?” I lick my lips, able to move my head when she moves to my side.
The nurse checks the machine I’m wired up to, then her ice-blue but soft eyes meet mine. “What can you remember?”
In my deep sleep, I remembered the man from the bar. He had eyes as black as the night. “The man who brought me in here?” I say tentatively.
“Police wanted to ask him a few questions.” The nurse with hair as yellow as vanilla ice cream, shakes her head. “I think he’s still in the waiting room.”
He hung around? “What?” He doesn’t know me. I don’t even know him, yet… he’s here ? I look down my fragile body, wondering how long I’ve been here for. Red stains the garment I’m dressed in. The sheets and blankets surrounding me are all discoloured.
“Says he brought you in here?”
I nod, but the details are hazy.
She then asks, “Do you know who did this to you?”
I think of Ben, fragments of what happened coming back to me. Wondering whether I should say anything, I shake my head. “I didn’t see his face.”
I watch the nurse’s lips pinch as she assesses me. “Hm,” she hums, “police will need to speak with you when you’re feeling up to it. You’ve got an incision above your hip, but I’d say you have someone watching over you. Missed all of your organs and went through flesh.”
“Got plenty of that,” I muse, my jaw hurting when I try lifting a small smile.
“Nonsense,” she says, helping me to sit more comfortably. “Would you like me to call anyone? Family? Friends?”
My mum would be the best port of call, or Tiffany or Jamie, even. All of them will be busy, though, and none of them need to worry. I’m fine. Instead of thinking logically, I answer, “Will you get him?” I huff a ragged sigh, trying to calculate what I’m thinking .
She nods before leaving me on my own.
I know I must be crazy, or perhaps it’s the painkillers causing brain fog, but at the very least, I need to thank him for saving me.
Minutes disappear before the curtain to my cubicle is being pulled back. The man from the bar is standing still. I get a good look at his face. Tired and worn yet alarmingly breathtaking.
“How’s the little warrior?” he asks, his voice all low and gravelly.
My heart skips a beat. I have to work to find my answer, getting all hung up on his words. That’s right . He told me to be a warrior when he put me in my car. Now, I feel anything but. “Uh,” I stutter, feeling my cheeks flush.
Stepping cautiously into my cubicle, one hand slides through his raven hair, trying to tame the longer parts hanging on his face. “Nurse says you’ve got a nasty scratch.”
Scratch? My lip pulls in one corner. “Feels like an axe went through me.”
“I know the feeling,” he says simply.
Raising a brow, I wonder if he’s just making small talk. Still, I ask, “You do?”
His head drops, and I can tell he wishes he hadn’t said anything. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, which you are, so I’ll go. You look after yourself.” He holds up his hands, his retreat edgy and nervous like he can’t get away fast enough.
“Wait,” I say, forcing him to stop.
I swear I hear him sigh with relief. I watch as he slowly turns, his hands slipping into his pockets. His head is low, his body—albeit clearly muscly and toned, held unsurprisingly low and heavy. Unsure of himself?
“Thank you.”
His eyes meet mine from under his lashes and he watches me. Damn. Breathe, woman. “It was nothing. Although, I got a parking ticket, so don’t thank me just yet.”
I smile at the man before me. “It definitely wasn’t nothing, and the ticket doesn’t matter. I can sort that when they let me leave.” Which I hope isn’t long.
Again, he looks unsure, but he steps closer to the foot of my bed, casually gripping the rail that’s still up with his red-stained hands. I suddenly feel exposed. “Do you know the guys who did this to you? ”
His question slams my back to the bed, so to speak. Like a jolt to the centre of my chest, I try my best not to cry. “No.”
His chiselled face drops. “I saw someone running away, then a car speeding off. What happened?”
My lungs seem to tighten, my body unable to process what actually went down. Perhaps I’m in shock, but I can suddenly feel the man’s hands on me, the blade pushing into my flesh. I blink rapidly, desperate to forget, one hand pressing to the centre of my chest.
The worry in his eyes spears my panic. “Hey.” The man moves around the foot of the bed, one hand leaning on it as the other strokes the hair off my face. “Look at me,” he instructs.
I feel a few more gentle strokes of his fingers, carefully tucking my hair behind my ear before I’m able to fix my gaze on his. My chest is heaving, but I focus on his eyes, seeing a calmness, feeling it washing over me.
“You’re in shock, Eva.”
I blink, my mind spinning, silently observing him. Once I’m able to take a few deep breaths, I ask the obvious question. “You know my name?”
“As if I could forget it.”
My lips roll in on each other, beginning to feel my unsteady breathing fall back into rhythm. “I don’t know yours.”
His hand lingering on my hair, falls to his side. I miss the contact, and he appears to miss it too, but then he frowns and with a slight turn, he sits on the edge of the bed. “Take a guess.”
Double taking, my eyes slightly scrunch, uncertainty hitting me. “You want me to guess your name?”
“Yeah.” His expression turning into a wry smile, lifts my spirits.
“Why?” I ask curiously, the corner of my lip tugging.
His shoulders lift. “Because by talking to me, you’ve forgotten the pain. And, why not?” He holds my gaze.
I study him, unsure of what to say. “Because… well…” When I don’t give a plausible answer, he raises one eyebrow, waiting for me. “Okay then, Dave?”
With a laugh, he purses his lips. “You think I look like a Dave ? I’m mildly fucking offended, but whatever,” he laughs. “No, I’m not called Dave. ”
I chuckle, my cheeks heating. “Okay… Ryan?”
He shakes his head.
“Damien?”
“Guess again.”
I really think this time, sucking the inside of my cheek between my teeth. “Liam?”
“I like that, but no. You only got the first letter correct.”
“Lawrence?” His eyes turn to slits. Nope that isn’t right. “Lance?” I say in a rush, like I’m about to run out of time.
“Okay, now you’re just being mean.”
I laugh again. “It was your idea to play this stupid game.”
“Yeah, and you suck at it.”
I let my shoulders drop as a small silence fills the space around us.
“My name is Luke,” he says quietly, his dark features shining brightly.
Holding out my hand, I wait for him to take it.
He looks down at the gesture, and I see his face tighten. Eventually, he slips his fingers against mine, sending shivers to race up my arms when he curls them around my hand. We both stare at the connection. It’s just a handshake, and yet time appears to have frozen. For both of us.
Feeling flustered, I find my lips part but no words come out. Luke doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t hurry me along, either. His eyes simply drop to my lips, and that alone makes a knocking sensation pulse between my thighs. “Thank you for saving me, Luke,” I all but throw at him, my voice audibly unsteady.
Retracting his hand, I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he stands, once again slipping his hands in his pockets. “Nurse reckons another day and you can go home.”
I look up at him, eyes jumping left and right over his. “You asked her?” He nods. “Why?”
“Because I’d like to make sure you get home safely before I leave you to it.”
This man is nothing like any other man I’ve met. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but standing by my bedside, he seems… singular. Has a whit about him. An edge most men don’t possess. I can tell he can look after himself, but I see a soft side, too. “You said you were meeting someone? At the bar? ”
His head drops. “He didn’t show.”
Oh? He?
“His loss,” I say confidently.
There’s a playful glint in his eyes, a steady shake of his shoulders. Maybe I read that wrong? Luke doesn’t say any more about it. Not that he could anyway, because the nurse walks in, making both our heads swing to her.
“Sorry to cut your visit short. Eva, the police officer would like to ask you some questions.”
I give her a nod as she rather hurriedly pulls back the curtain for Luke to leave. “Okay.” My words come out all timid. As much as I hate Ben for what he did, me ratting out the two thugs who came after him, won’t help.
Luke turns to me. “I can come by later, make sure you’re okay.”
He’d do that? “Why?”
His luscious lips pull into a smile. His shoulders raise slightly. “Because I want to.”
I eventually give him a nod after just staring at him for what feels like an eternity. The poor nurse hasn’t moved. I briefly look at her before I give him my eyes, lifting an unsure, but stupid smile.
He returns the gesture, stepping around the curtain and closing it shut.
I have no clue what is happening, but for the first time in a long time, I find myself feeling something new.