Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
Haz
It took nearly two hours for me to finish all the fluids in the IV that everyone insisted I have. Two hours of sitting in that hospital bed while Kieran—my fake boyfriend—sat there watching as though he thought I was going to try and sneak off again.
Honestly, what was he even doing there anyway?
He’d insulted and refused me when I messaged, and then, suddenly, there he was, towering over me in a long black trench coat, cobalt eyes thick with scrutiny.
Even if I wanted to hatch another escape plan, I’d never get far.
I knew just by looking at him that he was a predator. A predator who never lost his prey.
And right now?
I was the prey.
I should have been scared, right? Maybe I was exhausted. Maybe that hit on the head rattled my rational thinking. Who knows? But the closer I got to being left alone with him, the calmer I seemed to get.
The wheelchair jostled lightly as it transitioned from the smooth, shiny hospital floor onto a much rougher surface between two sets of large automatic glass doors leading outside. The second they opened, damp, chilled air curled in, making me shiver.
“This has got to be one of the wettest spring seasons this city has seen in years,” the nurse pushing the chair observed.
The chair jostled again, reminding me how much my head and body still ached. It wasn’t as bad as when I’d first woken up, so I supposed the IV fluids and pain medication had helped, but I’d never admit it out loud.
I could only imagine the bill this little trip produced.
Just thinking about it made me queasy. True to his word, Kieran paid.
At least, I thought he did. As I was changing from the gown into my still-wet, wrinkled, and blood-stained clothes, he’d gone to deal with the discharge paperwork and get the car.
A moment of panic punched me in the chest, fisting around my heart and lungs to squeeze. What if he just said that? What if he left? What if I’m stranded and the nurse is now a witness to my abandonment at the curb?
The stricken sound I made was drowned out by the rumble of an engine and chased away by a set of bright headlights sweeping over the dark pavement and highlighting the falling rain.
“There he is now,” the nurse said.
My stare clung to the large black SUV as it parked at the curb, the driver obscured by the darkly tinted windows. My throat closed, trapping my breath like a cage as I waited anxiously to see if it was him.
The driver left the engine running and got out, striding purposefully around the front end. The first thing my addled brain registered was the flapping black fabric of a long coat.
He stayed.
Breath whooshed out of me in a rush, and I slumped into the wheelchair, grateful for the support. He didn’t look at me, but the way he opened the passenger door stirred a wild fluttering sensation just beneath my ribs.
The nurse pushed the chair forward as Kieran turned. His attention carried an unsettling gravity, making me realize everyone else I’d met had only ever tossed me a passing glance or perfunctory awareness. I’d never been someone’s entire focus until now.
Instantly, his lips thinned into a harsh line, and I shrank back under the weight of his glare. “What the hell are you wearing?”
I glanced down at myself like I needed a reminder. “My clothes.”
“Why are they wet?” he demanded.
“‘Cause it was raining when I wrecked?” I phrased it like a question, which was stupid because I wasn’t asking. I was telling.
Be more assertive!
Kieran muttered something under his breath and stepped onto the curb, stripping off the trench as he moved. I swallowed thickly, watching the way his shoulders and arms strained under the black button-up beneath the coat.
“Let’s go.” Kieran was gruff when I just sat there staring.
I pushed out of the chair, hissing in pain when I used too much pressure on my injured hand.
Kieran leaned in, wrapping an arm around my torso, and hauled me the rest of the way up. When he straightened, my feet were no longer on the pavement but dangling there uselessly.
I shivered at the warmth of his body and then inhaled his woodsy scent.
“Are you sniffing me?”
Caught in the act. My eyes flew up, instantly colliding with his. Mine widened, which sent a jolt of pain through my skull, but I didn’t look away.
Something warm and electric passed between us. Something so palpable my hand fisted in the front of his shirt. We hung there, suspended for uncounted moments, held hostage by this thing without a name.
He broke free first, ripping away his gaze with a gruff sound. “Stand on your own.”
“Put me on the ground.”
Surprised, he glanced down to see that, in fact, he was holding me.
My feet stung from the force with which he slapped me on the ground before he stepped back hastily.
“I can see that you will be in good hands,” the nurse said, drawing our stares. “You be sure and get some rest, hon. And if you start to feel worse, be sure to come back in.”
I nodded even though I definitely wasn’t coming back.
She turned and pushed the wheelchair back through the double glass doors, leaving me fully alone with Kieran.
Awkwardness settled over me, and I shuffled on the sidewalk, not sure what to do.
Clearly not suffering the same affliction, Kieran shook out the trench and wrapped it around me, enclosing me in a cocoon of his scent and warmth.
“In the car,” he directed, hand on my shoulder.
Grabbing the coat from the inside, I held it around me and moved forward, feet tangling in the too-long fabric.
“Christ,” Kieran spat, scooping me up just before I face-planted. “A walking hazard.”
“Stop calling me that,” I said yet again as he lifted me easily into the passenger seat.
Saying nothing, he grabbed the lapels of the coat and tugged them closer around me, then tucked the extra over my legs like a blanket.
When that was done, he grabbed the seatbelt and leaned in, clicking it in place.
He was so close that, when he pulled back, my nose grazed his cheek.
The muscle in his jaw jumped as he pulled away, and I expected some scathing comment about how cold my skin was.
He said nothing, just slammed the door and jogged around the front to slide into the driver’s seat.
“What’s your name?” he asked, voice clipped.
I blinked, brain scrambling. “W-what?”
He turned, piercing me with a fiery blue look. “If you don’t want me to call you hazard, then what is your name?”
“Didn’t you fill out my discharge papers?”
“I handed them a credit card and signed the bill.”
“Oh,” I said, gazing out the windshield. He really paid it.
A wave of emotion rolled over me, momentarily robbing me of the ability to think or breathe. It was the first time someone had done something for me in so long.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Thank you.”
He drew back, one hand levering on the steering wheel as though he needed to balance himself. “What?”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and then realized the least I could do was fully look at him. Clutching the inside of the coat, I turned to meet his eyes.
“Thank you for paying the bill. And for not abandoning me at the curb.”
He blinked. “You thought I was going to leave you there?”
I shrugged. “You didn’t have to do any of this, and I appreciate it. I-I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.” Which will probably be years.
“I don’t want your money,” he snapped and pulled away from the curb.
My stomach swerved with the car, and I pressed a hand to it. “If you don’t want me to puke all over your fancy car, then be a better driver.”
The second the words left my lips, I had to swallow back the urge to apologize just as I’d had to swallow back my vomit. He deserved it! He didn’t even acknowledge my thank-you.
His eyebrows nearly met his hairline as he spared me a look. “Did you just call me a bad driver?”
“If the shoe fits,” I said with less enthusiasm than before.
He turned back to the road in stony silence.
“Oh,” I said, realization dawning. “I get it.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Get what?”
“You don’t want my money or my thanks. You want something else.”
“Right about now, I’d like you to shut up.”
“There’s a motel on the next block over,” I told him.
“A motel,” he repeated. “The Hollow Pointe?” he enunciated while making a foul face. “That place is so derelict not even roaches will stay there.”
Well, he had a point. The last thing I needed was an infection.
Leaning around, I gazed into the back of the SUV. “The back seat is big enough.”
He rubbed over his shadowed jaw with one hand. I wondered if it would feel soft or itchy against my skin. “What the hell are you going on about?”
“The reason you came. I told you that after you picked me up, you could have whatever you want.”
“You have a head injury!” he thundered, making me wince.
“I don’t know what you want,” I said after a moment.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just sit there and be quiet.”
I rolled my lips in and rested my head against the plush leather seat. This car was just really so nice. So much nicer than my—
“Ah!” I gasped, jolting upright.
“What now?” he asked.
“My car! It’s just sitting on the side of the highway. I need—”
“What were you doing out driving in this weather?” he asked, cutting me off.
I stared at him.
“Why is it that when I ask you a question, you clam up, but when I tell you to shut it, you run your mouth?”
“Sometimes I think of things and say them,” I replied. Wasn’t it obvious?
He barked a laugh. But I didn’t think it was because he was amused.
My hand forced its way out of his coat and between my lips so I could chew my nails.
Without even taking his eyes off the road, he reached over and tugged my digits free, wrapping his hand around mine and resting them in my lap.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked, bouncing my knee against the seat.
“If you won’t stop biting them, I’ll have to make you.”
I stared down, noting the way his hand was so much bigger, completely consuming mine.