Chapter Five Mercy
Chapter Five
Mercy
Every day, Grant appeared with the doctor. He’d listen quietly in the corner, type something into his phone. And disappear when they left.
“Do you think he’s got a girlfriend?” I asked Nell.
“Grant?”
“Who else?”
“No, Mercy, I do not think your husband has a girlfriend.”
“Maybe he’s got a boyfriend,” I mused. “It’s been a long time since I saw him with anyone. Maybe I’m his cover story with his family. I’d totally go for that if he needed it.”
“You are exhausting.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I hear that a lot.”
The pattern was broken, however, on day five.
Grant appeared in the doorway without a doctor present and with a small box in his hand.
I opened it to reveal a state-of-the-art cell phone; he turned it on for me, connecting the charger to an outlet above the table next to my bed.
While I scrolled through some of the apps he’d already installed, he settled into the chair in the corner and opened his computer.
“There’s no pictures.”
Grant glanced up from his laptop, eyes blank. “I thought it best. Until you’re . . . ready. Or your memories return.” He closed the computer and slid it into his messenger bag. “They’re saved on your storage cloud.”
It was a plausible excuse. Ninety percent of the world’s population would probably believe it.
But that blank picture icon made my stomach heavy and my mind troubled.
And it wasn’t exactly easy to find other distractions.
The problem with hospitals—one of them, at least—was that there just wasn’t much to do when you were the one stuck in a bed.
To entertain myself, I found little pockets of drama everywhere.
One of the second-shift nurses had just broken up with her boyfriend, and sometimes she’d argue with him on the phone in the hallway outside my room. Rick, apparently, didn’t like the way she looked at their neighbor. He sounded like a prick, but it wasn’t really my place to tell her that.
Dr. Washington was my favorite doctor, and when Nell brought in a different one a few days later, I wrinkled my nose at the dismissive way he asked questions.
His nose was too large for his face, his chin weak, and with a generous measurement, that guy might clear five foot six.
All things considered, it probably gave the poor man a complex, because he was a douche to everyone.
He never even really looked at my face when he talked to me. Nell’s, either, as she stood by my bedside. He did, however, greet my husband with a firm handshake and a simpering smile that made my lip curl.
“Feeling the same today?” he asked, staring down at the paperwork in his hand.
“Yup. Still no memories.”
“Hmm.” He flipped a page over, his attention briefly moving to Nell, though his eyes landed somewhere around her chest. “Can you get me another cup of coffee?”
Nell pursed her lips, gaze turning to the ceiling for a moment.
I narrowed my gaze. “Well, that’s a shame.”
For the first time since he’d entered the room, he looked up at me. “What?”
“Your legs don’t work?”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“Or your hands? Gosh, it must be hard to function.”
The doctor glanced at Nell, then at Grant, who’d simply settled a hand over his mouth. “What is she talking about?”
“I just figured you were physically incapable if you need a nurse to wait on you. But since all your appendages seem to work fine, maybe you could get your own damn coffee.” His face was turning a horrible shade of red.
I smiled sweetly. “Is Dr. Washington going to be in later? I’d rather wait for her. ”
He spluttered something and strode from the room.
Nell sighed. “We really need to find a new way to entertain you.”
“Tell that second-shift nurse to block her ex-boyfriend. He’s a dick. But I would miss hearing their fights. Yesterday, she finally showed some spine and told him to get fucked. It was fun.”
Nell laughed.
Grant’s eyes bored a hole into the side of my face.
Instead of looking at him, I adjusted the blankets over my legs. “What?”
“Nice to see you acting like your old self, Kincaid.”
“I’m sure you’ll take that back when it’s aimed at you.”
He opened his mouth to answer, when his phone buzzed. Grant sighed. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” He pulled the phone up to his ear. “I told you I’d call when I was ready,” he said quietly, then slipped out of the room.
I stared at the empty doorway for far longer than I realized.
Nell squeezed my shoulder. “You okay?”
I blinked. “Yes. I’m fine.”
“I swear, if you try to give me another one of those gowns, I’ll start throwing hands.”
“We needed access to all your important parts, sweetheart.”
“I have a wicked right hook, trust me. I’m revoking your access, starting now.”
Nell whistled. “Goodness, someone’s feisty today.”
“My ass was hanging out for the entire hallway, Nell! It would’ve been nice if you’d told me to double knot it before going for my walk.”
Her eyes gleamed with wicked laughter. “Honey, like I tell my daughter, who is the same age as you: There are some things I shouldn’t have to tell you.
” She picked up the tray from my bedside table, eyeing my half-eaten lunch with a raised eyebrow.
“Besides, couldn’t you feel the air on your backside? ”
“No,” I grumbled. “I was too busy trying not to fall over.”
She snorted. “Rich told me your PT is going great. You should be out of here in no time.” Then she held up a bag. “Now, put this on.”
I set my jaw and glared up at her. “I need real clothes.”
The bag was summarily tossed onto my lap, and since her back was turned, I stuck out my tongue.
“I saw that.”
“You did not.”
Nell chuckled as she handed the food tray to an orderly in the doorway. By the time she turned around, I was pulling a pajama set out of the bag with a sheepish smile. Black with white edging, luxuriously soft. It wasn’t silk or satin, but when my hands brushed over the top, I sighed. “Sorry.”
“You were a lot easier to deal with when you were sleeping.”
“Trust me, I’m always like this. The only time I’m malleable is when I’m unconscious.”
I slipped the hospital gown off and let Nell help me pull the shirt into place. Normally I wasn’t big on flashing people, but modesty was out the fucking window in a hospital, and Nell handled me with such gentle care that I hardly even noticed.
“Oh,” I said in a long exhale. “It’s lovely.”
She tugged the pants up my legs and tapped my hip in an unspoken request to lift up. “Your husband has good taste.”
“So I’ve heard,” I answered in a dark tone.
Nell laughed. “Don’t be like that. He’s giving you space, isn’t he?”
I nodded, warring against the thick wedge of guilt that had taken up space in my sternum.
Space. Loads and loads of space. An entire galaxy existed between us.
Despite the intermittent visits, I knew he was there, hovering outside like a very well-dressed ghost. According to the nurse scuttlebutt, he was always there.
On his computer. On his phone, always texting and talking with someone.
Catching up with the nurses when they left my side.
Dressed like he was waltzing through London’s financial district.
(The second-shift nurse with the red hair and naughty sense of humor told me his ass should be illegal in the navy pants he seemed to favor.)
“What are we supposed to do when I get out of here?” I asked. “Is he going to lurk in the hallways while I walk around the house?”
“Hastingses do not lurk. It was bred out of us in the eighteenth century.”
My head snapped up at the sound of Grant’s voice, and Nell laughed.
If anyone else had said it, I’d know they were teasing.
But this was Grant. His greatest gift in life, besides the bone structure, was his ability to be totally and completely unreadable.
The tone of his voice was haughty, and as usual, his businesslike expression was firmly in place.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” I hedged.
The arch of his eyebrow was slow. “Of course not.”
“Lurking can be a compliment.” I winced. “In some social circles.”
His shoulder was braced against the doorframe, and unwillingly, my eyes dragged down over the entire length of his tall form.
No two ways about it, the shape of Grant’s body was aesthetically pleasing, with all the right proportions—broad shoulders and muscular arms, a slim waist and hips, long legs encased in the trousers that probably made the nurses trip over themselves.
Proportions one would want a handsome man to have, if for no other reason than it made for spectacular eye candy.
He lifted his chin toward the room. “May I?”
Nell caught my eye and gave me a mom-look that screamed, You be nice to the man hanging out in the hallways for the last week, then left us alone.
I nodded, my fingers plucking nervously at the hem of my pajama pants, and Grant homed in on the tell. His gaze lingered on my hands for a moment, and on the bare spot on that finger. Lingered on the mark—hypothetical, at least—he’d left on me. It gave my stomach the twisties.
It meant time spent. With him. Under the same roof. Each day in the hospital brought that reality closer and closer.
The most horrible sense of curiosity bloomed at the thought.
No, not bloomed—blooming suggested brightly colored flowers and shiny dark-green leaves.
My curiosity was a weed, and even though I wanted to tear it out at the root, I’d have to deal with its presence just a teensy bit longer.
I’d have to make peace with the way it tightened around my ankles and locked me in place, the curl of it around my ribs and spine, something that couldn’t be easily dislodged.
Like it or not, he and I would have to get through this together. That was the pesky thing about having no family to speak of. One was forced to rely on the circle created from life circumstances rather than biology.