by Wilder, L
I spend the next two days watching over him just like that, never leaving his side. There is something peaceful about watching him sleep and listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. Being in the room with him seems to ease some of the tension I’ve been feeling.
Chapter 5
Sheppard
The sun coming through the blinds is so bright that it makes it hard for me to open my eyes, and every fucking muscle in my body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t want to move, and I sure as hell don’t want to open my eyes. Unfortunately, the overwhelming need to take a piss is forcing me to wake up. When I finally make myself open my eyes, I realize that I don’t have a clue where I am or how the hell I got here. I glance around the room and can’t help but smile as I find my guardian angel asleep beside me.
I thought she was just a dream, but sure enough, here she sits. Her long blonde hair falls loose around her shoulders, framing her angelic face. She has a plaid blanket over her legs, but I can still see the bright red letters that spell out Louisville on her grey t-shirt. She is sound asleep, totally unaware that I am even looking at her. I watch as she takes slow, peaceful breaths and find myself wishing she were sleeping in the bed next to me instead of that stupid chair. She looks so innocent resting there, and her full, pouty lips are just begging to be kissed. I want her to wake up and open her eyes, so I can see if they are green like I remember.
Without thinking, I turn my hips, trying to move my legs off of the bed. My entire body tenses with pain, and I can’t stop myself from shouting out, “Fucking hell!”
“Shit!” she screeches as the blanket flies off of her legs, and she races to the doorway. She stops herself before she actually leaves the room and turns back to look at me. Her beautiful eyes widen as they roam over my body. Her face turns pale like she’s just seen a ghost. She keeps staring at me like she’s trying to decide if I’m really here or just some figment of her imagination.
I try to clear my throat and ask, “You got a name?”
“Ana,” she says as a hint of red begins to blush her cheeks. Damn, she’s cute.
“This your place, Ana?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Are you the one that did this?” I question as I point to my bandages.
“Yes.”
“You a doctor or something?”
“Ummm...” she starts as her eyes drop to the ground. “Kind of.”
“You think you could help me to the bathroom?” I ask as I toss the covers off of my body.
Her eyes dart down to my waist and train on my hard cock. I note a spark of curiosity flashing through her eyes as she bites her bottom lip. It’s like she’s seeing me as a man and not a patient for the first time, and my cock twitches with arousal to her reaction. She quickly turns her head, avoiding eye contact with me. I decide not to embarrass her any more than I already have and try to get out of the bed. Pain soars through me as the bullet wound in my gut twists and pulls, forcing me to stop moving.
“Stop!” she shouts and runs over to the bed. “You’re going to hurt yourself!” She places both of her hands on my chest and pushes me back against the pillows. I thought she was beautiful before, but up close, she is fucking amazing. Her green eyes glow with intensity as she urges me to stay put.
“Babe, I gotta take a piss,” I tell her boldly.
“Sorry, I had to remove your catheter last night. Give me a minute, and I’ll bring you a bedpan.” She releases me and starts towards the door.
“Fuck that. I’m not using a damn bedpan… now or ever. I’m getting up now… with or without your help,” I snap. There is no fucking way I am going to use one of those goddamn things. I try to pull my legs over to the side of the bed, but I don’t have the strength to move them more than a few inches.
“Holy hell! Stop acting like a caveman and just be still! You have not one, but TWO bullet wounds, and it wasn’t exactly easy to keep you from bleeding to death, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t screw up everything I did to save your life!” she huffs as she throws an empty plastic bottle at me and walks out the door.
I have an overwhelming urge to grab her and throw her over my knee. I think I’d enjoy teaching her a lesson about that sassy mouth of hers, but I can’t do anything about it now. I shake my head in frustration as I grab the bottle and use it to take a piss. I don’t like anything about this fucking situation. I hate the thought of anyone having to take care of me, especially a woman that looks like her. Why does she have to be so fucking beautiful? I need to get back on my feet and get the hell out of here. I cap off the bottle and try to sit it on the floor, but I can’t reach.
Ana storms back into the room and grabs it from my hand. Just before she turns to walk out of the room again, I catch a glimpse of the satisfied smirk that is plastered all over her face. Aw, hell…. She will pay for that shit. A few minutes later, I hear her making all kinds of fucking racket with pots and pans in the front of the house, so I can only assume she’s making breakfast. The thought of food turns my stomach. I look down and peel back the bandage on my upper chest. The stitches are clean and precise; nothing like what Doc usually does for us at the clubhouse. This chick really must be some kind of doctor.
She walks back into the room carrying a tray and places it on the dresser. She gives me a look of disapproval as she sees me looking at my wound. I carefully cover it back up and stare at the tray of food.
“I’m not hungry,” I tell her.
“Maybe not, but you really need to eat something,” she says as she walks over to me. She gently places the palm of her hand on my forehead and looks at me with genuine concern. My eyes lock on hers as she slowly lowers her hand to my wrist to check my pulse. Her eyebrows crinkle together as she tries to focus on my heartbeat. “What about some toast?” she asks.
“No.”
“Cereal?”
“No.”
“Umm… bacon and eggs?”
“Look, I appreciate it, but I’m just not hungry,” I explain.
“You haven’t had any real food in days, and these are strong antibiotics. They’re going to make you feel worse if you don’t have something on your stomach,” she warns.
“Just give me the damn medicine, and I’ll eat something later,” I tell her.
“Okay, but no complaining when your stomach starts cramping, and you end up feeling worse,” she says scornfully.
“Fine, do you have any crackers?” I ask.
“Sure do,” she replies as she grabs the sleeve of crackers from the tray and tosses them onto the bed. Then, she takes a bottle of water off of the tray and places it on the bedside table. “I’ll be back in a few minutes with your medicine. Do you need anything else?”
“Some clothes, unless you like having me like this,” I say as I lift the sheet just enough to make my point. I smile as I watch her cheeks turn a dark shade of pink.
“My father… he’s… uh… bringing you some things when he comes this morning,” she stammers.
I nod. At that moment, I realize I have no idea what the hell is really going on here. I don’t even know where I am. Why didn’t she just take me to the hospital or call an ambulance? I need to pull my head out of my ass and find out what is going on. I look around the room, searching for any information about the woman that has just saved my life. I don’t see anything suspicious. From the looks of the pictures around the room, she isn’t involved with anyone. I wonder why a girl like her isn’t already married with two point five kids. From what I can tell, she lives out here alone, and something about that pisses me off. She had no business bringing some stranger into her home like this without having someone here to help her.
I am lost in my thoughts when I catch sight of her standing in the doorway, staring at me. “You ready?” she asks.
“Guess so,” I tell her. She walks over to the side of the bed and holds out her hand with the pills resting in her palm.
I take them from her and use the bottle of water to choke them down. “Than
ks.”
“You want to tell me what happened?” she asks. “Is someone going to be coming after you?”
“It’s a long story, but you don’t have to worry about that. Everyone thinks I’m dead.”
“Who shot you? Why would someone want to hurt you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell her.
“I think I have a right to know,” she snaps. “Remember, I’m the one that just dragged you out of that freezing lake and saved your life.”
“Look, Ana. I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I’m not getting into all that with you right now.”
“What about your family or friends? Do they think you’re dead?”
“No idea,” I lie, knowing there is no way they think I survived.
“I just saved your life. How can you not tell me?”
“It’s for your own safety,” I tell her.
“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes spitefully. Yeah, there is no doubt that I’ll be taking this girl over my knee.
“How long do you think it’ll be before I’m back on my feet?”
“Honestly, I’m shocked that you’re even alive. The water in the lake must have been cold enough to slow your metabolism down and keep you from bleeding to death. You’re very lucky,” she explains.
“How long?” I ask again.
“Couple of weeks, maybe three,” she responds.
“Hell no,” I bark. “There’s no way I’m going to be laid up here for two or three fucking weeks.”
“Why don’t you just save your little tantrum for another day? I have too much to deal with right now, and you’re acting like….” She suddenly stops when her phone begins to ring in her back pocket. A strange look crosses her face just before her eyes drop to the floor. She slowly reaches for her phone and looks at the screen, seeming reluctant to answer it.
She cautiously lifts the phone to her ear and whispers, “Hello?” It’s like a totally different person is standing here in front of me, and I don’t like it. “Hello?” she says again, a little louder this time. She stands there silent for a few brief moments before she lets out a deep sigh and hangs up the phone.
“Damn it,” she mutters in a defeated voice. She looks over to me and says, “I’m going to go make some coffee. Do you need anything?”
“What was that all about?” I ask.
“It’s nothing….” she replies with a shake of her head. Something about the way she’d looked in that moment got to me, though. I want to know what is going on, but I know this isn’t the time to push her. Something is drawing me to her. It makes me want to know everything there is to know about her.
“My name is Dillon.” I have no idea what possesses me to tell her my real name, but I like the way her expression changes as I say it.
“Dillon?” she asks as her lips curve into a beautiful smile. “You look like a Dillon. It suits you.”
“So, Ana… when is your dad coming with those clothes?” I ask.
“He should be here any minute. I should warn you, though,” she adds, tucking her hair behind her ear. “He wasn’t exactly happy about me bringing you here. He’s going to ask a lot of questions.”
“If he’s anything like you, I’m sure he will,” I said with a laugh.
“You could always pretend to still be sleeping. It might be easier.”
“Not doing that,” I snap. “I can handle your dad.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” she says, shrugging. She jumps when the doorbell rings. “That’s him. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
I watch the curve of her ass as she walks out of the room. Damn. Yeah, there is definitely something about this woman that captivates me. There are secrets locked away behind those beautiful green eyes, and I want to know all of them. A part of me knows I won’t like it, but that won’t stop me from finding out what she’s hiding.
Chapter 6
Ana
They’ve been back there for over an hour, and Dad won’t even let me come into the room. I have no idea what they are talking about, and it’s driving me nuts. Dad just told me he wanted to get things sorted, and that it would be better if he did it alone. I don’t like it, but I know he’s right. I’m sure Dillon feels better talking to my dad without me listening in anyways.
I jump when the door to my bedroom opens, and my dad comes walking out. His eyes are focused on me as he makes his way down the long hallway. “Well?” I ask anxiously.
“If he’s telling the truth, then I think we did the right thing bringing him here,” he responds. “He seems like a very decent young man.”
“That’s good news then, right?”
“Yeah, but you need to be smart about this, Ana. It’s going to take some time for him to heal, so I made some ground rules for while he’s here,” he explains.
“What kind of rules?” I ask.
“I let him know what my expectations are. He has a life waiting for him, so as soon as he gets back on his feet, he needs to go home.”
“That’s the plan, Daddy. I never expected him to stay.”
“Don’t go falling for this guy. He’s already showing an interest in you… asking a lot of questions and trying to find out what’s going on with you.”
“I have no interest in starting anything up with him,” I say, trying to sound like I mean it. “It’s not like he’s my type anyway.”
“You don’t have a type yet, and I don’t want you to get hurt,” he warns. That’s like telling me to go jump in the sack with the guy right now. I’ve never been very good with people telling me not to do something, especially my dad.
“And Steven called. Said he’s been trying to reach you, but you haven’t answered his calls,” Dad says with a questioning look. “Just a heads up… he’s coming by this afternoon to check on you.”
“Why didn’t you just make something up? Tell him I have the flu or I’m on my period or something,” I groan.
“He knows something is going on, so you might as well figure out what you’re going to tell him about your guest.”
“His name is Dillon, and there’s nothing to tell. He won’t even tell me anything!” I shout.
“Well, either way, Steven’s coming. You decide what you want to tell him,” he barks as he walks towards the door. “I have to run into town. Call me if you need anything.”
He shuts the door before I have a chance to say anything more. Damn. I am totally screwed. Steven is going to have a meltdown when he finds out about all this. I actually feel a little bad about it. He’s been so supportive over the past few months, and I know this is going to push him over the edge. I actually consider not telling him, but he can always tell when I’m keeping things from him. He knows me better than anyone, so there’s no point in even trying to hide this.
I make Dillon a bowl of chicken soup and crackers for lunch. He is exhausted and falls asleep before he even finishes eating. I’m busy cleaning up his dishes when Steven knocks on the door. He doesn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, he uses his key and walks right in.
“What’s going on with you, Ana? I’ve been calling you for days, and you won’t answer your damn phone,” Steven says with a disgruntled look on his face. The dark burgundy shirt that he’s wearing only makes him look even angrier, and I find it hard to look him in the eye.
“I’ve been… umm… really busy, Steven. Dad has been helping me with something, and… it’s been a little hectic,” I stutter.
“What kind of something, and why haven’t you answered the phone?” he asks. “Just tell me what the hell is going on.”
“It’s nothing, Steven. Really. Nothing to worry about. I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone.”
“Have you been getting those calls again?” he asks.
“Well, they never really stopped….” I confess.
“Wait… I thought you said they were getting better!” he snaps.
“I lied.”
“Fuck! Why the hell haven’t you told me?” he shouts as he begins pa
cing around the room. He runs his fingers through his hair, and his eyes narrow on mine. “You can’t keep going on like this, Ana. We have to do something.”
“We’ve already tried everything. There’s nothing else we can do. I don’t want you to keep worrying about all this. It’s not your problem,” I explain.
“I can’t believe you just said that. Fucking hell, Ana,” he says angrily as he sits down on one of my kitchen stools. “I want to be there for you, but you have to let me know what’s going on.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have kept that from you,” I mutter as I look down at the floor.
“What else haven’t you told me?” he asks.
My insides twist into a ball of nerves as I say, “Well….”
“What?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
I sit down next to him and try my best to explain everything that has happened over the past few days. Several times he tries to lift himself off of the stool to go see for himself what I’ve gotten myself into, but I’m able to hold him off until I finish telling him everything.
“You should’ve called me! I could have taken him to the hospital outside of town or….” he starts.
“He wouldn’t have survived that long. He was barely alive when I found him. I honestly didn’t have a choice,” I explain.
He gets up from his stool and storms down the hallway into my bedroom. Dillon’s eyes fly open as Steven enters the room. He looks over to me with a questioning look.
“Um, Dillon, this is Steven. He’s… a really good friend of mine,” I try to explain. I look over to Steven and watch as he rolls his eyes.
Dillon nods, but neither of them speaks. They just stare at each other, speaking volumes with their silence. I watch as Steven’s eyes skirt over the tattoos on Dillon’s arms. Thankfully, he’d put on the t-shirt and pajama pants that my father had brought earlier, but that doesn’t do much for hiding the brightly colored ink that covers his body. I look back over to Dillon. He seems amused by Steven’s reaction, and it’s only making matters worse. I need to break the tension building in the room, but I’m not sure what to say.
