Chapter 11
ELEVEN
He’s steady as a rock, which is sexier than it sounds.
BAILEY
When I logged into my main social media account the following morning, it wasn’t a surprise that I had a lot of new likes, follows, and comments. That was normal. What was a surprise was the number of times I’d been tagged in other people’s posts.
I tapped on the first tag, and my stomach dropped. It was a screenshot of a news article with the headline: “Influencer Attacked While Hiking at Popular Tourist Destination.” There was a link below the image, so I clicked on it, my gut churning and flipping uncomfortably.
I’d hoped to keep what happened quiet. I’d planned to scrap the video—obviously, since I no longer had it—and just let it go. But if someone had gone to the media—presumably someone from the hospital because I knew that none of my friends and family would have—then that plan was out the window.
I scrolled down and, sure enough, I’d been named in the first paragraph of the article.
I read the text, but it was blessedly brief.
It seemed the reporter hadn’t known much more than my name, the fact I’d been in the Destiny Falls area, and that I’d been admitted to Queenstown Hospital on Sunday before being discharged several hours later.
Returning to my account, I checked out a couple of the other tags.
They were mostly more of the same, and there were a slew of comments from well-wishers.
Under other circumstances, I might have enjoyed the attention—after all, it was good visibility—but I had a sick feeling that this was very, very bad.
Grabbing the arm of the chair, I edged off the cushion and levered myself upright. My pain was more of a dull all-over ache than it had been yesterday, but moving still wasn’t pleasant.
“Max,” I called over the rain drumming on the windows. It wasn’t cold, but I was glad I’d packed my cozy comfort clothes yesterday because not only were they easier on my sore body, but the weather definitely called for them. “Look at this.”
He glanced up from his breakfast—granola with fruit and yogurt, yum—and took the phone when I thrust it at him.
“It’s in the news,” I said, needlessly, since he was already reading the article. “The national news.”
He set the phone on the table, his lips pursed. “How do you feel about that?”
Ugh. Why did he have to be so good at the neutral face? I couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head.
Leaning on the back of the other chair because sitting sounded like too much work, I said, “Normally, I’d be glad about anything that got me into the headlines, but I have a horrible feeling about it.”
He tilted his head consideringly. “Do you think it’s because someone did this to you and now everyone knows? It’s understandable that you’d want to keep it private.”
I thought about that for a moment. My brain was working a little better today, thank God. Yesterday just getting my thoughts straight had been like wading through a swamp.
“Not really. It’s more like….” I tried to find the words to describe the sense of dread that was creeping over me and refusing to be ignored. “This is going to sound crazy because I don’t remember what happened, but I think the people who hurt me wanted me to”—I swallowed—“to die.”
Something dark flickered through his gaze. “What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know,” I said helplessly. “I can’t remember the details, but my instincts are telling me it’s not good that they might know I survived.”
“Then we’ll trust your instincts. They’re sending up warning signals for a reason. Let me call Nate.”
My left foot cramped, and I hissed, shifting my weight to the right leg while I extended my toes and tried to stretch it out.
“Are you okay?” Max asked, pausing his search for Nate’s number in his phone.
“Fine. Just a cramp.”
He didn’t look totally satisfied with that answer, but he didn’t question me, instead calling his twin and having a brief conversation that I was able to follow even though I could only hear one side of it.
“So, we’re meeting him at the medical center?” I asked, just to confirm.
“Yes, in about an hour.” He glanced over at my empty bowl. “Did you have enough?”
My heart warmed. “Plenty, thank you.”
In one of the most adorable moves possible, Max had made me breakfast and even included a cup of my favorite tea. I didn’t even remember telling him which tea I preferred, and it made me all gooey inside to think that he might have been paying closer attention to me than I’d believed.
Don’t read too much into it, Summer’s voice in my head reminded me. He’s nice to everyone.
Which was depressingly true.
I gathered my dishes and limped over to load them into the dishwasher despite Max’s protests. As long as I didn’t aggravate any of my injuries, moving around would help me, and he knew that. The cutie pie just didn’t like to see me struggle.
I brushed my teeth and made sure I had everything I might need during the day because I didn’t intend to leave the medical center unless it was with an escort.
Max wrapped his arm around me as we walked out to his dad-style minivan, and I subtly leaned closer and sniffed, trying to catch a hint of his natural scent before it got covered with antiseptic.
There was a trace of something fresh and citrusy—maybe lemon—accompanied by something that reminded me of the forest.
So good.
He drove us to the medical center and let me enter under my own steam as he walked behind me with the wheelchair. I got comfortable in the same room as yesterday and tried not to cling to Max when his first patient arrived and he had to leave to examine them.
I was a little afraid I might be annoying him with my need to constantly be near someone, but he hadn’t given any indication that was the case. Perhaps he was nice enough that he didn’t mind.
Nate turned up a few minutes into Max’s appointment. He strode in, eyes full of concern. “How are you doing?”
“I’m all right.” Not totally true, but not a lie either. I was probably as good as I could be.
He sat on the chair beside the bed and pulled his notebook from his pocket. “Max said you’re scared that the person who attacked you might be angry to find out you’re still alive. Does that mean you remembered something?”
I grimaced, hating to let him down. “Not really. It’s more like a feeling. I think they wanted me dead. I’m—” I glanced at the window and stared at a trail of water as it slid down the glass. “—I’m worried they might come back.”
Nate laid his hand over mine, and when I turned back to him, he looked really awkward. Comforting people wasn’t his thing, but I appreciated the effort.
“At the moment, we don’t believe the attack on you was targeted. Based on the destruction of the hut, we think it was a case of you being in the wrong place at the wrong time. By now, whoever did it is probably long gone.”
“But they’ve been hanging around Destiny Falls,” I protested. “Connor said so, right? They’ve vandalized more than one place, so why would they leave?”
Nate rested his forearm on his thigh and leaned closer.
“There’s a huge difference between vandalism and assault.
Hell, you could argue this was attempted murder.
My guess is, they’d have panicked and left town as soon as they were down from the hill.
We’re still investigating, but I doubt they’ll be back. They won’t want to risk it.”
I sighed and shifted restlessly, wincing as my abdomen twinged. “I get where you’re coming from, but I don’t remember what they look like, so how am I supposed to protect myself if they do return?”
“For now, don’t go out alone, and let me know if you encounter anyone who makes you nervous or who is behaving strangely. You’re welcome to stay with me and Grace. She’s home most of the time, so you wouldn’t be left on your own.”
“I’ll think about it.” But I doubted I’d agree. For one thing, staying with Max was a dream come true, and while the circumstances weren’t great, I didn’t want to give it up. For another, if someone was out to get me, I didn’t want to lead them to Grace and baby Finn. What if they got hurt?
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.