Gray's Girl

by Mina Carter

  “Hey, you okay?” Damon asked suddenly, looking across at him. Gray’s dislike of hospitals was legendary on the team, as was the fact he preferred the team medics to deal with everything rather than head to A&E. Luckily, so far all he’d needed was treatment for minor injuries and a stitch or two.

  He took a deep breath and nodded. He could do this, he would do this, because there was no way he was leaving without making sure Frankie was okay.

  “She’s going to be okay, you do know that, right?” Damon asked, sweeping a glance over the people in front of them. Impatience tightened his features but he reined it in. “If it was serious they’d have sat m…sat us down and broken it to us gently. Not just let us come here. She’ll be fine, mate. I promise.”

  Gray blew another breath out, stirring the loose strands of hair that fell over his face. The irony of Damon reassuring him not an hour after the guy had tried to punch his lights out for sleeping with Frankie wasn’t lost on him. Were his feelings for her that obvious?

  The receptionist in front of them was obviously a graduate of the Bruce Willis school of dealing with inquiries, taking no prisoners as she directed the group in front of them to where they needed to be before she turned to Damon and Gray.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, please.” Even Damon, ever the charmer, didn’t even try to engage the woman with a winning smile. Instead his expression was serious as he stepped forward. “We’re here to see Frankie Cross. I believe she was brought in earlier?”

  “She was, let me just check for you…” Gray hovered at his friend’s shoulder like some overgrown parrot or clingy ghost as the sound of typing reached them. “She was taken up to X-ray but should be back down now. She should be in bay ten. Can I ask who you are?”

  “I’m her brother and this is…”

  Damon paused for a moment and Gray held his breath. He wasn’t anything to Frankie officially, not like next of kin or anything and it suddenly occurred to him that they may not let him in to see her. Crap. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a tussle with security, which was what was going to happen if they tried to stop him.

  “This is her fiancé.”

  Surprise hit him broadside at Damon’s announcement, but he kept it all inside. One expression out of place and she’d realize Damon was lying through his teeth to get Gray inside. Thanks mate, I owe you one for this.

  She didn’t bat an eyelid but she did frown, her drawn-in brows beetling together. “What, another one—Excuse me, forget I said that.”

  But both men had heard, latching onto the chance comment like a pair of terriers.

  “What do you mean, another one?” Gray demanded, playing the outraged lover to the hilt. It was no hardship because it was exactly how he felt. Frankie wasn’t engaged, at all. Or getting engaged any time soon, unless it was to him.

  The receptionist looked uncomfortable. “There was another guy here, arrived about ten minutes ago. About six foot, black hair with a fringe. Looks a bit like the guy from that movie…you know the one, with the vampires and the—”

  The penny dropped. Robby.

  “I’ll fucking kill him,” Damon muttered, a sentiment echoed by Gray as they stormed off down the corridor.

  * * *

  She ached.

  No, not ached. Every part of her felt like some thug had worked her over with a two-by-four. She hurt; the pain centered in her chest and dragged with every breath she took. Her head was splitting and she couldn’t go more than four breaths without wanting to cough. She resisted the urge. It didn’t help, just rubbed her throat raw and made her gasp for breath.

  Trying to keep her groan to herself as she was pushed along the hospital corridors, Frankie closed her eyes against the bright colors zipping by. Ignoring the squeaky wheel on the wheelchair, the high-pitched sound like a woodpecker trying to drive its beak through her skull, she came to one conclusion.

  This was hell. She’d obviously been dropped straight into hell without the courtesy of death beforehand. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred quid, just straight down into the fiery pit itself. Except the pit was less fire and brimstone, and more cash-strapped NHS.

  She snorted. That figured.

  They changed direction, the porter taking the twists and turns of the building with the ease of a race driver, forcing her to curl her hands around the armrests of the chair. She’d tried to insist she could walk, but they’d had none of it. The nurse had given her a stern look that the child in her reacted automatically to, and Frankie climbed into the chair without complaint. An hour later, she was glad she had. There was no way she’d have made the trek down from X-ray on foot. Not without getting lost in the labyrinthine corridors and wandering forevermore anyway.

  “Here we go, love.” The porter swept aside a curtain, the rattle of the loops over the pole a metallic buzz saw to her already sore head. “Let’s get you back up here.”

  She murmured her thanks as he helped her out of the chair and back up onto the bed, his gruff but gentle manner reminding her of her grandfather. Once settled, she rested her head back, closed her eyes, and let loose a sigh of relief.

  She couldn’t believe this had happened. One moment she’d been happily dozing, warm and comfortable with Leighton’s scent wrapped around her as she idly waited for him to come back to bed. The next the air had been filled with the sound of the smoke alarm and thick, acrid smoke had poured in from the living area.

  Instinct had brought her awake and got her out of the bed in the same moment. Smoke was bad. Where there was smoke, fire wasn’t far behind. Screaming for Leighton and trying to cover her mouth at the same time, she’d dragged clothes on haphazardly, venturing into the living room just long enough to ensure he wasn’t in there passed out or something. A thick curtain of fire-tinged smoke blocked her path. Panic had filled her, the thought of something happening to him all but stopping her heart. Then she’d noticed his clothes were gone. Clothes gone were a good thing; it meant that he was gone too.

  Grabbing her bag quickly, she’d hurried out the balcony doors and headed for the fire escape, her fear of the fire overruling her fear of heights as she swung a leg over the balustrade to reach the escape. She hadn’t needed to. A fireman was already there, gathering her in a capable hold as the team below trained a hose on the broken windows belching fire near to them. It looked like the whole floor had gone up.

  She’d been lucky to get out, as both the firemen and the paramedics told her, the latter annoyed that she refused treatment until she’d checked her phone. Relief slammed through her at his text but she hadn’t been able to answer it, surrendering herself to the paramedics so they could check her out. She’d gotten out and Gray had already gone. He was safe. Worn out, she let herself relax and start to drift off into sleep. They’d wake her when they wanted to see her.

  * * *

  The bed dipped and a large hand slipped under hers, surrounding it with heat. She smiled through her doze. He’d come, she knew he would.

  “It’s okay, baby doll. I’m here. Thank God you’re okay.”

  Frankie came out of sleep with a snap, rejection and wariness filling every cell of her body. That wasn’t Gray’s voice, nor was the sharp-sweet citrus cologne wrapping around her the one he used, but it was familiar.

  Opening her eyes, she glared and pulled her hand free of Robby’s grasp. Her ex sat on the side of the bed, his handsome features twisted into an expression of concern. He’d always been a good actor. Better than she’d thought, obviously.

  “Get out.”

  “Aw, don’t be like that, please, baby. I was worried about you.” He tried to recover her hand but she pulled it away again, her skin crawling. She didn’t want him touching her. Not now, not ever again.

  “What are you doing here, Robby? I didn’t call you.” In fact, she hadn’t called anyone, just told the paramedics where her brother and Gray could be found.

  Robby wasn’t deterred, flashing her a small, weak smile before he look
ed down at his hands, the picture of abject apology and contrition.

  “I need to apologize. I was a complete arse last night…” He paused and sucked in a breath, a pained expression flitting across his face. “I-I saw you with that guy and I lost it. I had too much to drink. I realized when I saw you in his arms how much you mean to me and…I was jealous.”

  She fought the urge to curl her lip and wondered when she should applaud. It was a good act, worthy of an Oscar at least.

  He looked up, spearing her with a glance through his lashes. “I’m sorry, baby doll, I really am. I want us to ge—”

  Shoving herself upright in bed, Frankie glared at him. “Get back together? Not a fucking chance, sunshine. In case you’re forgetting, I found you balls deep in our neighbor. You remember her? The blonde bimbo from down the hall?”

  “Baby do—”

  “Can it,” she snarled, raising her voice to attract attention from outside the curtain-shrouded cubicle. “Nurse? Nurse! Can you get this man out of here, please?”

  His face dropped, rage twisting his expression for a second as the curtain behind him was ripped open. On the other side, her brother grabbed a furious-looking Gray, stopping him from advancing as a nurse arrived, looking over the little scene with confusion.

  “Don’t, mate, he ain’t worth it,” Damon hissed in Gray’s ear, muscles straining as he struggled to hold on. Gray fought him every step of the way, dragging Damon a few steps as he glared at Robby.

  “Let me go, I’m gonna fu—”

  Damon slapped a big hand over Gray’s mouth as two policemen flanked the nurse. “Threats are gonna get you thrown out, possibly some chill-out time in a cell, mate. Cool it down.”

  “Just what’s going on here then?”

  “Officers, than—” Robby piped up but Frankie cut him off, her voice high enough to be heard but raspy from the smoke she’d breathed in.

  “Please, can you remove this man? He’s not supposed to be here and he’s been hassling me,” she explained and started to cough as the policeman looked to the two bigger men, her brother’s big arm looped around Gray’s neck.

  “And you two are?” he asked, obviously prepared to remove them all should they prove to be a problem.

  “Her brother,” Damon replied instantly. “This is her fiancé.”

  Frankie’s eyes widened at the blatant lie but with what felt like her lungs trying to crawl up her throat and her eyes watering, she couldn’t argue.

  “He tellin’ the truth?” the first officer asked, ignoring Robby’s start of surprise. “Jeff, take this one out. Get his details.”

  She nodded, holding her hand out to Gray and wiggling her fingers in a demand he come to her. She couldn’t think of anything else to prove her brother’s outrageous claim. A small burst of pleasure spread out from the center of her chest as Damon released him and Gray stepped forward to wrap his hand around hers. She knew it was a lie to get him in, but right at the moment she didn’t care. She’d happily dress up in a white gown and parade around with a tacky tiara on her head if it meant he could stay.

  “Yes, thank you,” she finally managed, smiling at the officer as the other one all but frog-marched Robby away. His complaints trailed behind him, finally muffled as the pair turned a corner.

  “Thank you for getting rid of him. He was here when I woke up…” She let her sentence trail off as Gray sat next to her, stroking her hair as she leaned back against the pillows, propped up high by the position of the bed. Even that little bit of effort had exhausted her.

  “No problem, ma’am. Glad we could help. If there’s nothing else, we’ll leave you with your family.”

  He smiled and left. Frankie watched him walk down the corridor, waiting until he turned the corner before looking at the two men around her bed. “Okay, which one of you wants to explain why I now appear to be engaged?”

  Chapter Nine

  Gray heard the question but didn’t answer, too busy stroking the wayward curls clinging to her temple. He couldn’t stop touching her. The sight of her so small and delicate in the hospital bed, the dark marks under her eyes and on her cheek, had rocked him to the core as he realized how close he’d come to losing her. All he wanted to do was pick her up and carry her out of here. Take her back home and look after her.

  “Well?”

  Damon dragged a plastic chair to sit down on the other side of the bed. “It was the only way to get him in. They only allow family in and…well, you saw—”

  “Nothing would have stopped me getting in to see you. So, sorry, you get to be engaged to me for a while. Just until we can get you out of here.” Gray lifted Frankie’s hands to press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  His question hid a turmoil of guilt and worry. He’d known something was off this morning. He should never have left her, not even for a little while. If he’d been there, he would have gotten her out quicker, or earlier. Even if he’d had to carry her out slung over his shoulder like some kind of caveman with his prized captive.

  She smiled and started coughing again. The rasping sound rang with pain. Shooting Damon a worried glance, he slid his arms around her and pulled her upright, resting her against his chest and shoulder. He rubbed her back, making soothing sounds as the coughs racked her tiny frame. Finally she stopped, leaning against him in exhaustion.

  “I’m okay, or I will be. The fire brigade were there, got me out. I only breathed a little smoke in. I was lucky. I could see the fire at the front door already.”

  Fear stilled Gray’s heart as his mind automatically worked out the distance between the front door and the bedroom. Not fucking far enough, not far enough by a long shot. If she hadn’t woken up…

  She made a small sound as he wrapped his arms around her tight, the instinctive need to hold her to him too much for him to fight.

  “It’s okay; I’m okay. Promise,” she whispered, smoothing across his arm with a small hand as she became the comforter instead. Gently she eased back, but kept her hand wrapped around his wrist, as though she needed him to anchor her.

  “Damon, would you get me a drink, please?”

  “No problem.”

  Obediently, Damon shifted in his seat, the feet squeaking on the linoleum floor as he reached out to pour water from the jug on the cabinet by the bed into a small plastic cup.

  She looked at it as he held it out, and the ghost of a smile creased her lips. Instantly Gray caught on. She didn’t want a drink; she wanted her brother out of here for a while.

  “Mate, I think she was telling you to get lost for a few?” he said, casting her a quick glance to check. She nodded, reaching out for her brother’s hand to give it a quick squeeze.

  “Please, if you don’t mind. Ring Mum and Dad, make sure they don’t come rushing back from their holiday. I’m fine, and you and Gray’ll make sure I stay that way, won’t you?”

  Damon looked from Frankie to him and back again, then smiled, a rueful expression in his eyes. “I get it. I know when I’m not wanted,” he joked as he pushed himself to his feet. “Fussy about the drink?”

  Frankie shook her head. “Not really. Anything cold and wet’ll do, thanks.”

  “No problem.” Damon paused at the curtain, about to push the blue-green fabric aside. “And no getting up to anything in here. Be just like him to get banned from a bloody hospital.”

  The smile faded from Damon’s face, a strangled expression crossing his features as he appeared to recall who Gray would be messing about with.

  “Drink,” he announced and disappeared with a rattle of curtain loops.

  “He’s handling it better than I thought he would.” Frankie’s voice was soft as she closed her eyes. “That could have gone far, far worse. He’s a stubborn git at times.”

  “Yeah, it could.”

  Gray swept his tongue over the inside of his cheek but decided not to tell her that her brother had already worked out a large portion of his anger with his fist.

 
; “Fair warning though. Don’t try it on me.”

  She opened one eye and gave him an amused glance. “What? Go? Would you if I asked?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “There you go then.”

  Silence reigned in the small cubicle. Not an uncomfortable silence, more one that said how comfortable things were between them. Idly he reached out to wrap a strand of her hair around his finger.

  “I bet I look like shit. Not the best morning-after look, eh?” She chuckled, the sound almost developing into a cough, but she managed to stop it as he looked on in concern. He’d had a bad lung infection a couple of years ago, so he knew how much control it took to stop a cough like that. Sometimes, though, it was too painful to cough, so it was the only option.

  Finally she looked up, and gave him a smile. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward to steal a quick kiss. Nothing deep, or anything to compromise her breathing, but he had to taste her lips, assure himself that she really was here and unhurt.

  His lips clung to hers, reluctant to leave their satiny embrace, but he forced himself to pull back. She opened her eyes slowly, the look in them wide and dark. Desire speared him, a white-hot lance through his heart and right all the way down to his balls.

  Gritting his teeth, he reminded himself that she was lying in a hospital bed. Bed. He tried hard not to think about that part of the equation as he stroked her hair, or they really would get kicked out and banned. Was that a team first? Half the team had been banned from most of the bars in town but he’d never heard of anyone being banned by the NHS.

  She licked her lower lip, his gaze riveting instantly on the quick flick of her pink tongue, and he had to bite back a groan. He was a fucking pervert obviously, lusting after a sick woman in her hospital bed. He needed to be locked up.