Virgin's Night Out

by Shiloh Walker

  And not until she told him. Not until she let him know. He wouldn’t control any part of her life. Not through her memories, not through fear.

  Although her legs shook under her with every step, she wasn’t going to hide meekly behind the cops. Even as they tried to pull her back, she evaded them. Clayton tried to block her way and she stopped, looking up at him. “Relax...I’m not going to try and kill him or anything.” Shifting her gaze, she stared around her friend to look at Dwayne. “I want him to suffer more than that.”

  Cautiously, Clayton lowered his arm.

  Rocki didn’t try to get any closer. “You think I won’t press charges this time,” she said quietly. “Because I didn’t last time. But that’s where you’re wrong. I’ll press charges...and if I can see your ass in jail, I’ll pat myself on the back for it.”

  He snarled. “You fucking bitch.”

  She smiled.

  “I’ll fucking gut you—” One of the cops stepped between them then and started muscling him into the ambulance waiting to take him in for treatment... before he was hauled to the police station. “Should have already done it!”

  Rocki ignored him, focusing on the silent, somber-eyed man who waited by yet another ambulance. This one was hers, she suspected. She needed to get her hand looked at. And she was feeling more than a little...disconnected. Shock, maybe?

  She didn’t know. Didn’t care. The only thing that mattered just then was getting to Cole and wrapping her arms around his waist. Pain shrieked through her as she hit her busted hand, though, chasing some of the fog away. Whimpering, she shifted around, resting her side against Cole’s front.

  As one of the paramedics approached, she shot him a narrow look. “My white knight...”

  He didn’t say anything, just curled an arm around her shoulders, his face pressed to her hair.

  He was shaking. Shaking almost as badly as she was.

  “Damn it, Rocki...”

  She closed her eyes at the broken, hoarse sound of his voice. “I’m okay.” Then she flinched as the medic twisted her arm upward. “Okay, I’m hurt...but I’m okay.”

  His mouth pressed to her temple. “I don’t think I want to let you out of my sight. Not for a year, at least. We could go to the beach. Stay there for a year. I can make sure you’re safe. You can heal. We’d both be happy.”

  “Hmmm. Don’t tempt me.”

  “Before you go taking off to the beach, you need to hit the hospital,” the paramedic said. He had a sympathetic look on his face as he gently wrapped her wrist. “You need x-rays.”

  Her belly cramped and fear shot through her. X-rays. Those weren’t bad. Right? She could do that. Something had to be broken. She needed to get it set, she knew that. Even though the medicine the paramedic had given had taken the edge off the pain, it still hurt pretty bad. She could handle going to the hospital, getting x-rays and letting them set it. No reason to feel terrified.

  But she could already feel that terror creeping through her.

  Focusing on the paramedic, she tried not to let the panic show. “Yeah, I figured as much.” The inside of her cheek was all but bloody from how many times she’d bitten it to keep from crying out. Her fingers were fat and swollen, discolored. “Damn, I did a number on them, didn’t I?”

  “You did.” A smile twitched on the paramedic’s lips as he glanced at her. “The man may have a head like a rock, but maybe he’ll think twice before he messes with you again. I suspect you broke his nose.”

  “Not enough,” Cole muttered behind her. He pressed his lips to her neck and sighed. “It’s not enough.”

  The paramedic’s gaze met his—a look passed between them. No, a broken nose wasn’t enough, not nearly.

  “What? No...oh, no...” Rocki came up off the table, shrugging away Cole’s hands, ignoring the look on the doctor’s face, ignoring just about everything except for one thing.

  The door. The door was all that mattered. Because she had to get out of here. He’d just said surgery. She’d been prepared for x-rays and maybe one shot while they set the bones. Not surgery.

  “Calm down, Rocki...” Cole caught her around the waist, one gentle hand stroking her hair back. Through the thin cotton of the T-shirt he’d rummaged up from somewhere—she wasn’t putting on those stupid gowns—she could feel the warmth of his back. And if she hadn’t been so terrified, she might have relaxed against him, just let him hold her for a while. But the doctor had said surgery.

  “Calm down?” She shook her head. “No. I won’t calm down, damn it!”

  “Ms. Monroe, listen, if we don’t do the surgery, your hand isn’t going to heal right. It’s not just a simple break and the bones in the hand are delicate.”

  In the calm, logical part of her brain that could still think past the pain, past the terror, she knew he was making sense. And damn it, she needed her hands. But, surgery. Rocki didn’t have too many crippling fears, but surgery was probably one of them. Alright, not probably. It was one of them.

  Feeling like a foolish child, she turned around and pressed her face against Cole’s chest. “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

  “Shhh. It’s okay.”

  As she curled against him, Cole thought his heart was going to break. She’d been clinging to control by her fingertips all night, made it through the questioning from Clayton, tolerated the exam, although he’d suspected she had a fear of doctors even then.

  Glancing up at the doctor, he asked, “Can you give us a minute?”

  He slipped out of the room without another word, and as the door shut behind him, Cole cupped his hand over the back of Rocki’s neck. “You’re afraid of doctors, huh?”

  “Not doctors.” Her voice was muffled. She shuddered against him, but he heard her well enough as she whispered, “Surgery. Needles. Those things. Doctors are just fine as long as they don’t use needles. And they can’t do surgery without needles.”

  He rubbed her back. He’d followed the ambulance in his own car and he’d snagged his gym bag, figuring she might want to get out of the blood-stained clothes she’d worn. The pretty, pale pink vest-like corset she’d had on over a long-sleeved peasant blouse was ruined. Now she was wearing his faded Star Wars tee over a pair of scrub pants and she was trembling. “Sweetheart, you can’t let your hand stay broken, and if you don’t let them fix it, you’ll probably lose some use of that hand.”

  Rocki sniffed.

  “You don’t want that, right?”

  “I’m debating,” she mumbled.

  At the sulking, pouting sound of her voice, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Rocki...you need your hands, right?”

  “I guess.” She sighed and lifted her head, staring at him. Those bitter-chocolate eyes were a little too bright and her face was flushed pink. The pulse at the base of her neck was racing. “You probably think I’m some sort of basket case.”

  “No.” He stroked a hand through her hair and tugged her close, resting his brow against hers. “I think you’ve had one hell of a bad night and now you have to do the one thing you hate. Who wouldn’t be pissed?”

  “Pissed. Terrified...yeah, pissed sounds better.” She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. “Today really kind of sucked, you know that?”

  “Yeah.” He closed his eyes. “Although I can think of one really good thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re here.” He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could get that image out of his head, wishing he could do something to wipe away the sound of her scream. “Damn it, Rocki.”

  “Hey...” She eased away, peering up at him. “I’m fine. Well. Mostly.” She gave her hand a look of acute dislike and then looked back at him. “I’m fine. But now that you mention it...I can think of a good thing, too. You were there. And you’re here now. So that’s two good things.”

  There was a knock at the door.

  “It’s probably the doctor.” Good thing, because he needed a minute to get his balance again, to calm down before h
e broke. He kept thinking about how easily he could have lost her. And he’d just found her .

  Rocki went white. Then she closed her eyes. “Come in.” Without turning to look at the doctor, she blurted out, “I’m about to have a panic attack, even thinking about surgery...can you do something about that? Please?”

  Hours later, gritty-eyed with fatigue, Cole sat in the chair next to Rocki, watching as she slowly came out of the drugged haze. He had to admit, he hadn’t exactly expected this sort of thing to happen—here he was sitting with a woman he’d dated exactly twice. She’d need somebody with her for twenty-four hours after surgery, and he had every intention of it being him...although he hadn’t been sure how to approach that.

  She’d solved the dilemma by giving him a sidelong look while he was filling out the paperwork for her. “Is it going to be, like, really awkward if I ask you to just put yourself down as the contact for now? You’re here, and I don’t think you plan on going anywhere...”

  She’d been right.

  She’d come through the surgery fine, and the doctor had given Cole the standard spiel...with a mistake Cole hadn’t bothered to correct. “Your wife will need to follow up with us in a couple of weeks. The nurse will go over all of that when she wakes up, but make sure she calls us if there’s any trouble.”

  She’s not my wife. Cole could have corrected him easily enough. But he hadn’t seen the point. She wasn’t his wife, but she already meant something. He suspected she could come to mean everything...and he was just fine with that.

  “Okay...any questions, Ms. Monroe?”

  Rocki smiled tiredly. “No.” She just wanted to go home, to her bed, and sleep. For a week.

  “Well, then. If you can just bring the car up...” The nurse looked at Cole, her brows arched.

  “Sure thing.” He bent over and pressed his lips to Rocki’s head. As he slipped out of the room, she closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the chair. Sleep was calling her name once more, but she wasn’t going to sleep any more, not until she was at home. In her bed.

  Out in the hall, there was a harsh, loud bang. Startled, she jumped. Her right hand smacked against the bedside table. Pain streaked through her. “Oh, shit,” she whispered.

  “Oh, dear...” The nurse rushed over to her side. “Are you okay?”

  Rocki nodded, swallowing the tears. “Sorry. I’m just a little jumpy.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the look on the nurse’s face. Knowledge. “I understand. Would you...well, you might want to consider speaking with somebody about what happened. After you’ve rested a bit, of course.”

  Rocki grimaced. She’d done that bit before. Although this time, she hadn’t cowered. Hadn’t hidden. Staring at her broken hand, she said, “Yes. After I’ve rested.”

  She didn’t know if she’d do it or not. It was a problem that would have to wait until another day. She wasn’t dealing with anything more complicated today than how to tell Cole where she lived...without drooling. That was problematic enough.

  So pale and exhausted. The look on her face only made him that much more furious. Cole had used the few minutes it had taken to drive his car up to call Clayton, although there was little he could be told yet. Except she had broken Dwayne Carpenter’s nose and given him a concussion when she drove that bottle into his head.

  Not enough, though...still not enough.

  He stroked a hand down her hair as he opened the door for her. The nurse smiled at him. “She’s going to want to sleep a lot today...that’s probably not a bad thing. Make sure she takes the pain medicine.”

  “I will.” He nodded as he held a hand out for Rocki, letting her steady herself as she stood up. She swayed a little and he waited as she rested her head on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Stupid drugs make me loopy.” She eased away and slid into the car, pausing there and heaving out a breath.

  “I think you’re entitled to a little loopiness, baby.” He caught her uninjured left hand in his and glanced at the nurse. “We’re good here.”

  She smiled at him and turned away, pushing the wheelchair toward the hospital. He focused once more on Rocki, waiting for her to swing her legs into the car.

  “Cole.”

  He tensed at the sound of that voice. Shit. He’d been ignoring the phone calls all night. Turning around, he met Mara’s icy blue eyes. “Hello, Mara.”

  She shifted her eyes to look past him. When Rocki went to tug her hand away, though, he squeezed her fingers gently. And wouldn’t let go.

  “So you are here. I had a call from a friend who said she saw you.” Mara stared at him, something hard and cold lurking in the depths of her gaze. “Why are you here?”

  “Right now, I’m getting ready to take Rocki home.” He glanced down at Rocki and smiled. “I need to close the door, sweetheart.”

  “Sweetheart?” Mara gaped at him. “Sweetheart?”

  Cole didn’t look at her, just waited for Rocki to ease her legs into the car. “You good?”

  “I was better about ninety seconds ago.” She groaned and rested her head against the back of the seat.

  “Me, too.” He shut the door and looked back at Mara. “Goodbye, Mara.”

  She caught up with him before he’d rounded the front of his car, her nails digging into his arm. He really, really hated it when she did that. He’d thrown his coat into the back seat when he’d brought the car up and other than his sweater, nothing separated his skin from those acrylics she loved she much. Stopping in his tracks, he looked down at her hand and then looked back up at her. “I’m getting tired of telling you that I don’t care to have you digging your claws into me, Mara. Let go. Now.”

  “Why are you here with her?” Mara snarled, and she just squeezed tighter.

  “I’m taking her home. She had surgery and she needs to be at home...not sitting here listening to you have a tantrum.” Out of patience, he twisted his arm out of her grasp.

  She tottered on her heels and slammed a hand against the car. “She had surgery and called you to pick her up? That’s fucking pathetic.”

  “No.” He smiled at her. “She didn’t call me. I was there when she got hurt because we’re seeing each other.”

  “Seeing...” She shook her head. “Seeing each other? You’re seeing her? Her?”

  Mara turned her head and shot Rocki an ugly look through the windshield. “You left me for that cow?”

  Fury twisted inside him, but he didn’t let it show. Continuing his way around the car, Cole opened the door. “No, Mara. I left you because I don’t love you...I don’t even know you. Rocki had nothing to do with it.”

  “So you just suddenly started dating her right after you broke up with me?” Venom colored her voice, thick and heavy, just as it froze her eyes, just as it made her pretty face seem cold, almost alien. “You want me to think you’re actually interested in her?”

  “I don’t care what you think,” Cole said tiredly. “But interested doesn’t even touch on what I feel for her. It doesn’t even come close.”

  He slid into the car and shut the door. Mara continued to stand there, glaring at him. When she didn’t move, he sighed and put the car into reverse. “Well, that was fun.”

  “Wasn’t it?” Rocki had her eyes closed. “It was my fault, ya know.”

  “No. Hell, no, it wasn’t. Apparently one of her friends saw me and called her, told her I was here, but it wasn’t your fault.” He gave her a dark look as he did a three-point turn in the broad drive. A quick glance in the mirror showed him that Mara was still there. Still glaring at them.

  “Sure it is. I was just thinking earlier than I couldn’t handle any more problems today—that I wouldn’t. So what do we get? Problems.” She reached over and covered his hand with hers. “You know...I think I’m pretty interested in you, too, handsome.”

  He twined their fingers. “That’s good. Because I’m thinking I want to keep you around for a while. A long while.”

  “Hmmm. We
’re rushing things again, aren’t we?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Chapter Ten

  For most of the day, thanks to the painkillers, Rocki slept like the dead.

  That was just fine with Cole. Between the insistent calls from Mara—he ignored those—and his own rather demanding calls to Clayton, he figured the last thing she needed was his aggravation waking her up. It didn’t seem much of anything would wake her, though.

  But the day was wearing on and Mara’s calls were getting more insistent. When the texts started coming, he groaned. “Wonder if Rocki’s a drinker,” he muttered as he nabbed his iPhone and read the little bubble on the screen.

  Baby, we need to talk. Please call me.

  He deleted it on the way into Rocki’s kitchen. And, oh yes...there was alcohol. Spying the bottle of Patron, he wondered if she’d be pissed. He ignored it and just mixed himself a Jack and Coke.

  He had managed exactly three swallows when the next message came.

  Cole, you’re being childish ignoring me like this. Either call me or I’m coming over there. I do know where that woman lives.

  “Aww, shit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What?” Shooting the sky a look, he demanded, “Just what did either of us do to deserve this?”

  The he dialed her number. This was ending. Now. The last damn thing she wanted to do was hassle a damn lawyer.

  “I’ve had it,” he snapped the second she answered. “You hear me, Mara? I’ve had it. You and me, we are over.”

  “Baby...please.”

  “You didn’t hear me. That’s fine, I’ll say it again. I want to make sure this is absolutely clear. We are over. It doesn’t matter if you’ve thought about it. It doesn’t matter if you realize where we went wrong. It doesn’t matter if you’re sorry. Nothing matters. We are over. Do you understand that?