by Peyton Banks
Bram rolled his eyes. Yes, she was taken hostage by pirates on the east coast of America. “I’m sure it was nothing as fanciful as that. Likely fell off a boat or something.”
“Or an attempted suicide,” Pedinsky whispered. “How gauche!”
Gauche, indeed. “Nice chatting with you, Mrs. Pedinsky.”
“You, too, dear.” She waved and turned back to her house.
Finally. Maybe now he could get some work done. At the front porch, he wiped his sandy feet before entering.
Peace and quiet. Just the way he liked it. He grabbed his coffee cup and strode into his office. Time to get his act together. He had a book to finish, after all. His deadlines weren’t flexible and by his count, he only had a month remaining. With that level of pressure, he didn’t have time for chats or rescuing women from the depths of the sea.
After a disgusting sip of cold coffee, Bram snatched up his mug and returned to the kitchen. A quick jaunt in the microwave would warm it up, though it’d likely taste like charred caffeine.
As he watched his microwave tick down to zero, he found his thoughts straying back to the woman. Poor thing, Mrs. Pedinsky had called her, and she wasn’t wrong. Hair littered with sand, dress torn and stained, face sunken and sallow. She’d looked quite the fright. Pirates… he chuckled as he popped open the microwave door and liberated his steaming cup of sludge. His neighbor certainly possessed an overactive imagination.
He tapped his index finger against his mug and pondered the thought. Would certainly make for an interesting premise—a woman captured by pirates, only to risk life and limb to escape and somehow find her way home. With a snort, he shook clear his rambling thoughts and returned to his office.
Bram dropped into his chair and stared at the blinking cursor on his screen. Nothing like a little writer’s block to begin his day. He drummed his fingers with impatience—he’d been stuck on this scene for close to a week now. It was time to overcome it and move on.
But as he contemplated the possibilities, another image rose to mind of a deathly woman emerging from the sea. Not captured by pirates but left to drown. A woman in white, back to exact revenge on the one who’d betrayed her.
Hazel eyes flashed in his mind, pained and tormented. He blinked and forced those thoughts away. Concentrate.
Time seemed to drag as he struggled to find the right words, but when he glanced at the clock, hours had passed. The sun had risen overhead sometime during his failed musings and bore down on him through his solarium. With a frustrated grunt, he dropped his head down onto the keyboard. The burden of the blinking cursor refused to relent.
Resigned, he shoved away from his chair and stalked into the kitchen. The contents of his coffee cup were the first to go. He needed a break, but he knew if he took one step outside, the questions and discussions would start up again. And as much as he loathed to admit it, he was curious, too.
For crying out loud. Why was his every thought plagued by this woman? And why had he felt the need to lie for her? Her question continued to circle his mind. What did it mean? What if she hadn’t wanted him to save her? What if she was suicidal and tried again? Grunting under his breath, he snapped his jacket off the coat hook and rushed to his vehicle, hoping to avoid his neighbor.
He needed to clear his head. Checking up on her would certainly do that. Then he could return home and finally get to work. Thoughts of pirates and women in white would have to wait for his next book. He couldn’t afford any more delays.
2
The steady beep of a heart monitor cut through her dreams and roused Mackenzie.
Fluorescent lights and white walls were the first things she spotted—standard hospital décor. A disappointed sigh blew past her lips. For one brief moment, the insistent ache in her bones had abated and she’d known bliss, only to have that precious final moment stolen from her. She’d allowed the waves to crash over her, to drag her down into the deep recesses of the ocean. And then the sea had spat her back out.
Tears sprang to her eyes. She’d been so close…not that she wanted to die. She simply didn’t want to live this life anymore. Shepherded from one appointment to another, only to hear the same thing over and over again: give it a few more months.
“Ah, glad to see our own little mermaid is alive and kicking again.”
She turned her head and watched as a doctor strode into her room, stethoscope and clipboard ready.
“You’ve worked this hospital into a tizzy. It isn’t often someone is rescued from the sea.”
Mackenzie pushed her head deeper into the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Just what she needed—a doctor who believed she was everyone’s “friend.”
“Why don’t we start off slow?” Her doctor dragged a chair over to the bedside and lowered into it, her ankle crossed above her knee. “I’m Doctor Richards. What’s your name?”
“Mackenzie.” Her voice came out rougher than she’d intended, as though she’d swallowed a mouthful of gravel.
“Nice to meet you, Mackenzie. How about a last name?”
She shook her head. That was a bit of information she refused to hand over.
“You don’t have one?”
“No, you don’t need it.”
Dr. Richards cocked a brow at her sharp tone. “Okay. Guess we’ll circle back to that one later. How are you feeling, otherwise? Any trouble breathing? Any pain?”
A brittle laugh scraped her throat. Only every day of her life, but that pain had little to do with any of this and was something she refused to discuss. “No.”
“All right. Why don’t you tell me how you ended up in the ocean?”
Mackenzie bit her lip and turned away from the doctor. What did it matter? The how was of little consequence. It was the why that had driven her to such an extreme—one that had failed. “I fell.”
“You fell.” Dr. Richards straightened in her seat. “As in, off a boat?”
No, as in off a cliff, but she didn’t dare speak those words. Suicide watch was something she never wanted to experience. So, instead, she nodded. “I was out fishing with a friend. I don’t know what happened. One moment I was reaching for the line, and the next I was on the beach.”
Gazing up into a pair of remarkably olive eyes. The memory elicited a visceral thrill and she winced when a shiver rattled her bones.
The persistent tap of Dr. Richards’s pen against the clipboard jarred her thoughts.
“Okay, then. Is there anyone we can call for you?”
Quite a few, in fact. But none that she wished to right now. “No.”
“Fair enough.” Dr. Richards patted her thighs and stood. “Listen, we’d like to keep you overnight to watch for any adverse side effects, if that’s all right. Do you have any insurance?”
Mackenzie pushed her sand-logged hair from her face and shook her head. “No, thank you. I’d rather sign myself out and leave.” She swept off the blankets and rose from the hospital bed.
Dr. Richards’s mouth pursed. “Mackenzie, it’s in your best interest to remain for at least the night. There are side effects that could arise from floating in the water for who knows how long. Pneumonia, fever, chest pain…” The doctor rattled off a list of disinteresting conditions.
“Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I just want to go home.”
Dr. Richards hesitated, but finally nodded when Mackenzie refused to change her mind. “I’ll have the paperwork drafted up. You’ll need to sign a release form stating that you won’t hold the hospital responsible in any way.”
“I know.”
“All right, then. Why don’t you sit back down, and I’ll have a nurse bring you the paperwork?”
Like she had any choice. Dr. Richards swept out of the room without so much as a backward glance. Mackenzie reached for her pile of damp clothes and pulled them on beneath the hospital gown. She loathed these stupid gowns and wanted free of it as soon as possible. In all her time bouncing between hospitals, she’d never understood the purpose of the gaping backsid
e. Her only conclusion was that someone had a sick sense of humor. As though being sick wasn’t demeaning enough, she had to flash a little ass every single time she left the bed.
Mackenzie had her right shoe on when an unfamiliar nurse marched back into the room with a clipboard in hand. Snapped to the front was the release form, and Mackenzie signed it without so much as a glance. She was more than familiar with the blasted things.
“Good to go,” the nurse chirped. “Try not to fall into the ocean again anytime soon.”
Mackenzie pasted a fake smile on her face, careful not to sneer at the careless joke. “Do my best.”
With a brusque nod, Mackenzie swept from the room. She just wanted to leave. Problem was, she had nowhere to go or any money to get there.
Once in the lobby, she nipped at the edge of her thumbnail and scanned the waiting room. Though the last people she wanted to see at the moment were her parents, she found herself searching for them. Not that her family even knew where she was.
Mackenzie groaned. She hadn’t intended on ever having to deal with this again—or anything for that matter. And the thought of trying again seemed exhausting.
With a sniffle, Mackenzie dropped down into the nearest chair with her head cradled in her palms. What had she done? In a moment of weakness, she’d run away from home. She’d only wanted a few moments away, to be free from the incessant hovering and endless questions. Stepping off a cliff had never been part of her plan. It’d happened on a desperate whim. So, what the hell was she supposed to do now?
“Miss?”
Mackenzie lifted her head, only to find herself staring up at her own dark-skinned angel. At the sight of her savior, everything else faded away. She found it hard to tear her attention away from his startling peridot gaze, but somehow she managed, only to take in the rest of him. His dark hair was short and curly, his jaw square, but it was his mouth that stole the show—lush and full, with a lingering hint of a smile.
“You,” Mackenzie whispered, transfixed by the sight of him.
There was nothing special about him. In fact, most might think him unworthy of a second glance, yet Mackenzie couldn’t tear her gaze away, nor could she put her finger on what it was that drew her attention. Hero worship, perhaps? A touch of reverence for the one who had saved her from the sea?
Her brows knotted. No, she hadn’t wanted to be saved.
When she’d first opened her eyes on the beach, she’d thought herself trapped in a dream. Unfortunately, the sound of the waves lapping at the shore had awakened her to reality. Somehow, she’d survived the long drop from the cliff, only to be resuscitated at the last moment by the man who now stood before her.
Though her knees still trembled, she pushed to her feet and lifted her chin. “What are you doing here?”
The corners of his mouth tugged upward as he studied her length. “I wanted to check on you. Make sure you were all right.”
“Why?”
The way he watched her was exhilarating. Not a speck of fear or pity alight in his eyes. She had to admit, it was refreshing. Until this moment, she hadn’t realized how tiring it was to comfort others on a daily basis.
“I haven’t quite figured that part out, yet,” he admitted. “But I wanted to make sure that you were getting the care you needed.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. I apologize for disrupting your day.” She turned to leave.
“Wait, that’s it?”
Mackenzie paused, her head canted to the side. “What more could you possibly want from me? You came to check on me, and as I said, I’m fine.”
His mouth twisted, as though he didn’t believe her. With a deep breath, Mackenzie squared her shoulders.
“How about a thank you?”
“Thank you?”
Amusement flashed in his verdant depths. “You know, for saving your life?”
She gnawed the inside of her lip. Finally, on the edge of a sigh, she said, “Thank you for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome.” He flashed her a charming grin and rocked back on his heels.
“May I go now?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, right. Is someone picking you up?”
Mackenzie blew out a frustrated breath. What was with the third degree? All she wanted was a quiet moment to contemplate everything. After all, it’d been a big day today. “No.”
“Considering we fished you out of the sea, I can’t imagine you have a car here.”
She’d left her car at the cliff, in fact. It seemed likely her family had already found it, and her cell phone within. Mackenzie forced herself to swallow as she imagined the state her loved ones were likely in. Especially with how she’d left them.
She’d woken this morning with mind-numbing pain in her lungs, and when she’d crawled out of bed, her knees buckled, and she’d spilled to the floor. Her cry had alerted everyone in the house, and moments later, her room had been overwhelmingly packed with those who loved her.
In a race for fresh air and a moment away from them, she’d hobbled out to her car and driven off without stopping to dress herself. Her search for solitude had led to tears and dark thoughts that had then led her to the rocky cliff. And that was where they would find her vehicle.
“Miss?”
She raked a hand down her face, if only to hide the oncoming tears. “No, I don’t have a car here.”
And walking wasn’t an option. Home was at least an hour’s drive away, and her knees had yet to quit trembling. If she was brutally honest with herself, she hadn’t the strength to walk anywhere. Her brother had started taking her on small walks around the neighborhood when her illness began. Since then, the distance had decreased dramatically. Now, a block tended to leave her winded.
“I can drive you.”
Taken aback, Mackenzie peered up at him with wide eyes. “You want to drive me home?”
He shrugged with that odd smile. “We’re a small city. You can’t live too far away.”
Too far to take him up on his offer. Unfortunately, she’d have to bite the bullet and call her family.
“Thank you…” Her voice trailed off as she fished for his name.
“Bram,” he supplied with a slight tilt to his head. “Larsen.”
Bram Larsen…she knew that name, though she couldn’t place it at the moment. “Thank you, Bram. But I actually don’t live here. I should find a phone and call for a ride.” She turned toward the receptionist’s desk, resigned.
“I actually don’t mind. A road trip might do me some good.”
Mackenzie paused. “You’re serious?”
“Well, how far are we talking?”
“South Raymond.”
His lashes flew wide. “Nice area.”
“I don’t actually live there. My parents do.”
“Ah.”
Averse to discussing her family’s money, she pointed at the door. “If you’re serious about that ride…”
“Of course. I could use the fresh air. I’ve been cooped up in my office a little too long, I think. But I will ask for one thing before we head out.”
Her defenses snapped back in place. “What?”
“Your name.”
With a small chuckle, Mackenzie offered her hand and waited for him to do the same. “Mackenzie DeVane.” She purposely used her mother’s maiden name so not to reveal her family identity. It’d been a life lesson when she’d learned that many couldn’t handle the knowledge that her father was the state senator. Or that her brother was running for Congress.
Long fingers joined with hers, his palm firm as he shook her hand. The moment they touched, her palm tingled and an excited shiver rolled down her spine. Mackenzie reveled in any sensation other than pain, as she did now, while momentarily stunned by her body’s reaction to him.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mackenzie DeVane.”
“And you, Bram Larsen.”
Another lopsided grin, and then he turned toward the door and escorted her out. “Your cha
riot awaits.”
What am I doing?
Bram drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he impatiently waited for the light to turn green. South Raymond was an hour in each direction. The entire afternoon would be wasted by the time he returned home. Another day down the drain, all because he’d insisted on driving Mackenzie home.
South Raymond… He still found that difficult to believe. The poor woman looked to be dressed in a thrashed night gown. Though, it was possible the sea was the culprit behind the tears and stains. She was a right mess, though, that much was for sure.
Currently, she was asleep. She’d drifted off about twenty minutes ago. Though, she didn’t appear to be in a deep sleep. Every few minutes, she roused and stretched, a slight grimace twisting her features. More than once, he’d meant to ask if she was all right, but every time he opened his mouth, she settled back into the seat and drifted off. At first, he’d wondered if the naps were her way of avoiding him. Until he looked closer. Her skin was as thin as her nightgown, her limbs frail. And when she moved, he caught the slightest tremor in her hands.
Her jaunt in the sea must have left some repercussions. At least while she slept, he could attempt to sort out what he was doing. In retrospect, the hospital trip had been a mistake. Seemed a common trend of the day. Not that saving her was a mistake. But allowing himself to linger on the thought of her was.
The light flashed green and Bram eased on the gas. The last sign they’d passed had stated ten miles until South Raymond. Not much time left until Mackenzie was gone from his car and his life. He didn’t relish the thought of the quiet car ride home, though. Even asleep, Mackenzie was better company than his own thoughts—a startling conundrum. Usually he preferred silence to the company of others. But there was something soothing about her presence.
She roused once more and shifted her weight. Only this time, her head turned toward the window as unspoken thoughts shadowed her countenance.
“Everything all right?”
She fidgeted and released a shaky breath. “Sorry. Just…”
