Chapter Two #3
She knew when to shut the fuck up. Even when we were kids, she hadn’t been the person who filled silence just because it existed.
“I’m sorry,” she said finally.
“Yeah.”
Her eyes moved to my throat again. “You really are lucky.”
“I know.” And I did. Every fucking time I woke up, I knew. Every time I got pissed because I couldn’t get out of bed without somebody hovering, I knew. Every time a nurse pushed me down the hallway in that damn wheelchair, I knew.
I was alive.
That counted for a hell of a lot.
“I’ll get out of here soon.”
Ramona’s eyes narrowed. “Did a doctor say that?”
“No.”
“So you decided?”
“Yeah.”
She leaned back in the chair. “Sounds smart.”
“I know my body.”
“You threatened to leave against medical advice yesterday.”
I stared at her. “Who told you that?”
“Everyone.”
“Fucking traitors.”
“You had Skull wheel you around the hospital.”
“I needed to know what was going on.”
“And apparently waiting wasn’t an option?” she asked,
“No.”
“Still impatient.”
“Still nosy,” I countered.
“Still bossy.”
“Still here.”
The words came out before I thought about them.
Ramona went quiet. So did I.
I shifted against the pillows. My body immediately reminded me that I’d been sitting up too long. A wave of exhaustion rolled through me, and I fucking hated it.
Ramona’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“You look tired.”
“I’m in a hospital.”
“Apparently, that makes people look worse.”
“What?”
“Something Shay said.”
“Shay talks too much.”
Ramona smiled.
I looked at her for another second. Then I asked the question again. “Why are you here?”
Her smile disappeared.
There, I knew it. Something was wrong. She rubbed her palms over her jeans. “I needed somewhere to go for a little while.”
My body might’ve been weak. My brain wasn’t. “What happened?”
“Nothing major.”
“Ramona.”
“Ash.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not.”
“You drove across the country in that piece-of-shit RV—”
“Hey.”
“—without telling Clint, showed up on Skull Island after twenty years, and you needed somewhere to go,” I continued.
She pressed her lips together. Finally, she sighed. “I had a problem at the campground where I was working.”
“What kind of problem?”
“My boss and I had a disagreement.”
“What kind of disagreement?”
“The kind where I quit.”
“Why?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You’re worse than Prime.”
“Answer me.”
“No.”
I blinked. “No?”
“No.” She stood. “You’re sitting in a hospital bed after almost dying. I’m not dumping my problems on you five minutes after seeing you for the first time in twenty years.”
“You came here because of your problems.”
“I came here because I needed somewhere to go.”
“You came here because of me.”
Her mouth opened, then closed.
Got her.
I pushed myself a little higher against the pillows. Bad idea. Pain pulled across my throat and down into my chest. I sucked in a breath and Ramona was beside me before I could tell her not to move. “Ash.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stop saying that.”
Her hand landed on my forearm.
Warm and soft.
My entire body went still.
Not because it hurt, because it didn’t. Her fingers curled around my arm like touching me was the most natural thing in the world.
Twenty years disappeared for one fucking second.
Ramona must’ve realized she was touching me at the same time I did.
Her eyes dropped to her hand, then lifted to mine. She slowly pulled her hand away. “You need to rest.”
“I’ve done nothing but rest.”
“Then apparently you need to do more of it.”
“Ramona.”
“Bob.”
That stopped me.
Not Ash.
Bob.
I didn’t know why that bothered me. Or maybe I knew exactly why.
She stood beside the bed and looked down at me. “I’ll tell you what happened.”
“When?”
“Later.”
“When later?” I insisted.
“When you’re out of here.”
“No.”
She smiled. “No?”
“No.”
“You’re cute when you’re helpless.”
My eyes narrowed. “Take that back.”
“Can’t.”
“I am not helpless.”
“You just threw a cup four feet.”
“That was a bad throw.”
“That was adorable.”
“Get out.”
She laughed. A real laugh.
For a second, I forgot about my throat. The wheelchair. Bernice. The club. All of it.
Ramona was standing beside my bed laughing at me. I hadn’t known I’d missed that.
“You’re still an asshole,” she said.
“You here to see this asshole.”
Her smile faded just a little. “Yeah.”
I watched her. “Why me?”
There it was. The question underneath all the others. Why Skull Island? Why now? Why me?
She looked toward the door. For a second, I thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then she looked back at me. “Because I knew you’d help.”
I nodded once. “You were right.”
Her eyes stayed on mine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I didn’t know what kind of trouble she’d brought with her. Didn’t know who her boss was. Didn’t know why she’d quit. Didn’t know why she’d been looking over her shoulder long enough to finally decide she needed somewhere to hide.
But none of that mattered. Not yet.
Ramona had come looking for me, twenty years after the last time I’d seen her, she’d needed help and somehow decided I was still the man she could come to.
I wasn’t letting her down. Even if I had to do it from a fucking wheelchair.