“I don’t think—”
“Ma’am, we do think it’s best that you go to the hospital with us.”
Resha sighed, but when I thought she was going to give more protest she didn’t, nodding her head instead and allowing the paramedics to escort her into the back of the ambulance.
Good thing, too, because I was damn sure ready to strap her over my shoulder and ride one-handed on my Kawasaki if need be.
The entire time as I rode behind that ambulance all I could think about was her shrieks for help followed by the sound of the punch that fucker had given her. It had me tightening my hands on the handles of my bike, fighting the urge to speed up and get to the hospital first in search of the would-be thief. He’d remained passed out as the cops cuffed him and the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance.
Dumbfuck.
I parked as soon as we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and ran to meet the ambulance just as they were opening the doors to let Resha out of the back. I could see she was able to move about relatively fine but that didn’t seem to stave off the worry that continued to course through my veins.
“Thank you,” she mumbled to the paramedics as they loaded her stretcher off the ambulance and rolled her through the doors of the emergency room. I practically pushed the smaller male medic out of the damn way once they placed her in one of the exam rooms.
I listened intently as the medics conveyed the necessary information to the in-take staff of the ER. Once that ‘medics transferred Resha to one of the hospital’s beds, we were shown to a private room, at my insistence, and told a doctor would be in to see us shortly.
“We didn’t need a private room. I could’ve waited out in the lobby,” Resha argued as I helped her sit down on the examination table.
“You could’ve but why the hell should you? I’ve got an in with a few of the people on the board of this hospital.” I was also a stake-owner in the hospital as well but that didn’t need to be said out loud.
“Thanks,” she simply stated before clearing her throat.
“And why the hell were you out so late at night, by yourself, in a dark alley anyway?” I charged, uncaring of my tone.
Resha’s forehead wrinkled and she gave me a sharp look with her unswollen eye.
It pissed me off just to see her other eye.
“I didn’t know it was a crime for a woman to be outside at night alone.”
“Not a crime but pretty fucking stupid.”
Her mouth fell open. I guessed she expected me to mince words. Tough shit.
“You’ve got the mouth of a sailor.”
“You’d know better than most.”
Her lips pinched.
“If you must know, I was going out to that twenty-four hour grocery store to get some ic— dinner. Some dinner. The alley is a straight shot from my building two blocks over to the grocery store. I always take that shortcut.”
“And do you always do so at ten o’clock at night?”
“I didn’t realize it was that late. I lost track of time working.”
“And why the hell didn’t you just give that asswipe your bag?”
Frowning, she tightened her arm against the large, black and brown, leather shoulder bag she had with her. The same one the guy had tried to separate her from. When she chose not to give it up so easily was when he hit her. That’s when I came along.
“It’s my favorite bag! This is real leather,” she defended.
I rolled my eyes and started to tell her how stupid that sounded when a knock on the door sounded and a doctor entered.
“Ms. McDonald, I’m Dr. Wilkes. I’ll be checking out your injuries just to make sure there’s no concussion,” he explained all this while extending his hand for her to shake.
“And this must be your husband.” He reached for my hand.
“He’s not—”
“Connor.”
“Pleasure to meet you. Well, of course, we wish it was under different circumstances.”
I grunted. “Are you a resident?” I looked up and down his green scrubs, noting the absence of a white coat.
“I’m a first year fellow, actually.”
Another once over and I felt my lips forming a frown. “We need a real doctor. Where’s Dr. Hollstein at?”
“Connor,” Resha admonished, “I’m sure Dr. Wilkes is just fine.”
He nodded, which made me dislike him even more. “I assure you, I’ve gone through as much training as Dr. Hollstein and got into Memorial’s very rigorous fellows program.”
“I’m sure you’re fine, Dr. Wilkes. Please don’t pay any attention to him.”
The doctor looked from me to Resha and back to me again.
“You better be.”
He pushed out the breath he was holding and pulled the small, laser flashlight thingy from the pocket of his shirt.
I watched dutifully as he told Resha to follow the light with her eyes. She was able to do so with her right eye but her left was nearly swollen shut. Dr. Wilkes put in a request for her to get some additional tests just to make sure nothing was broken.
“Well, thankfully, nothing appears to be broken,” he informed us about thirty minutes later as he held up Resha’s X-ray.
“Are you sure?” I was on the verge of requesting a second opinion. The only thing that stopped me was glancing over and seeing Resha’s unharmed eye drooping. Adrenaline from the attack was starting to wear off and she was getting tired.
“I’m certain. She’ll need overnight observation, or for at least the next twelve hours just to ensure there’s no concussion or more serious brain injuries.”
“That won’t be necessary. Besides, I don’t even have—”
“I’ve got it covered, Doc. Anything else?”
“If you’re in any pain, I can write you a prescription for some extra strength Tylenol. I wouldn’t recommend anything stronger than that.”
Resha immediately shook her head. “I don’t want any medication.”
Her adamant refusal sparked my interest but I left the question unspoken. I could circle back on that once we were alone.
“Thank you, Dr. Wilkes.”
I moved from the far side of the room, taking Resha by the arm and waist to help her down from the observation table to the bathroom so she could change back into her clothes from the hospital gown she’d worn for x-rays. After some final directives and a writing out of the prescription he’d mentioned, just in case she changed her mind, Dr. Wilkes left us.
“You sure you don’t want that?” I asked as Resha crumbled up the prescription.
“Positive.” She tossed the script in the trash as if it were burning a hole in her hand.
“Which one of your parents was on drugs?”
A tiny gasp escaped her lips as she spun around with her good eye wide and forehead wrinkled.
I shrugged. “Not too difficult to figure out. Most people who react the way you do to a simple drug prescription typically have some experience with drug addiction. Either themselves or close a relative. I took an educated guess.”
“That’s none of your damn business,” she sassed.
I shrugged again as if I didn’t give a shit whether she told me. “Suit yourself. Let’s go.”
“I need to get a cab or an Uber.”
“No shit. And I’m not letting you catch one alone. I’ll have to leave my bike here overnight, I guess. No big deal, the parking lot’s got cameras.” Pulling out my phone, I brought up one of the car service apps I had and ordered a car to … “Hey, what’s your address?” I questioned Resha as we stood out in the lobby of the emergency department.
Only when I didn’t get an answer did I peer up from my phone.
“God dammit,” I growled as I watched her sauntering off in the direction of the entranceway as if she was about to go it alone. “Hell no. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
She halted abruptly due to my hand encircling her arm, spinning her around to face me. “I’m going h
ome.”
“That’s where I was just trying to get you to until you walked off.”
“I’m going home alone.”
“Bullshit you are. You did hear what the doc said, right?”
She waved a hand in the air dismissively, and even with her left eye swollen shut I could see the defiance written all over her face. Stubborn ass woman.
“He was just being cautious because he doesn’t want to be sued if something goes wrong. I’m fine. A little pain but nothing I can’t sleep off. At home. By myself.”
“He was being cautious because this could be a big deal. You could have a concussion, and sometimes concussions don’t show up immediately. Trust me, I’ve had one or two myself. They’re not called traumatic brain injuries because the shit sounds pretty. The last thing you want is to be at home alone and start experiencing the dizziness, loss of consciousness, headache, vomiting, and a multitude of other symptoms that come with a concussion.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “You go to med school or something?”
I chuckled. “Nah, why?”
“You seem to have a certain familiarity with some of the hospital staff and you rattle off the symptoms of a concussion like you studied it.”
“I’m just a former pro fighter who’s had more than one visit to the ER for getting knocked on my ass.”
“So you weren’t a very good fighter?” she retorted with arms folded over her breasts.
“I was one of the best, sweetheart.” I moved closer. “But to become the best, one of the first things you learn is how to get knocked down and keep going.”
She tilted her head to the side, her good eye glancing over me as if deciding something. I didn’t have time for her to make a decision. Instead of waiting, I pulled up the app on my phone yet again and then handed it to her.
“Put your address in. I’m taking you home and watching you overnight.”
Either she recognized the severity of the issue at hand or she was just really tired, because she gave no resistance. Less than five minutes later, our Uber was pulling up to the entranceway of the ER and I held the door open for Resha to get in before slipping inside behind her.
The very woman who’d kept me restless in my sleep for months now, was the same one who was going to keep me up the rest of the night.
Chapter Four
Resha
“I should’ve known,” he said with a cockiness that made my body ripple in interest, in spite of the pain I was feeling.
Try as I might to have been Miss Independent at the hospital, the events of that night were starting to weigh heavily on me. My head was throbbing, and although I’d only been hit in the face, it felt as if the rest of my body had been attacked as well. Every step felt like a chore.
“Known what?” I questioned groggily as I stepped aside, allowing him to fully enter my condo. At this point, I was too far gone to even recognize the absurdity of letting him in my home in the first place.
“That your place would be decorated like this,” he answered with arms wide.
“Like this?”
“All feminine. Pinks and greys, candles and plants.”
“Don’t come for my plants. They give this space life.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, a stór, I’m not coming for your plants.”
I silently watched as he removed the leather jacket he wore and causally hung it on the wooden coat rack I had next to my door.
“You’re probably one of those women who likes people to remove their shoes whenever they enter their place, huh?”
“Shoes track in dirt and germs.”
“Pssh,” was all he commented before kicking off the sneakers he wore and placing them next to the coat rack.
“You got any ice?”
I blinked and watched as he began sauntering toward my kitchen in his socks and jeans.
“What?”
He tossed me a look over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he paused as if he was observing me. Before I could fully blink, he stood directly in front of me, staring down into my face, not in a sensual way but caring, as if he was inspecting every centimeter of my face, my reaction for what, I didn’t know. But when his hand came up to cup my cheek, I found myself nuzzling my face against it.
“Are you feeling dizzy?”
“Umhm.”
“You are?”
I blinked, not realizing my eyes had actually closed. “What?”
His lips frowned. “Dizzy? Are you feeling dizzy or nauseous?”
I shook my head.
He nodded but his hands grasped my shoulders and led me to the grey sectional and helped me sit down. I let out a sigh because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been treated with such gentleness. Wait, I could remember.
It was the last time I’d been in this man’s arms. Rough around the edges he might be, but Connor also had a softness about him that one wouldn’t assume upon first seeing him.
“I’m going to get you an ice pack for that eye.”
I leaned against the couch, pulling the plush, rose pink throw blanket I kept on the back of the couch, around my body to warm me up. The pounding in my head was beginning to increase and I felt my entire body growing heavier and heavier. Sleep was inevitable. Hopefully, by the time I woke up, the pain would be gone and I wouldn’t be regretting my decision to toss out that prescription the doctor had given me.
Just when I thought exhaustion had won out, I felt a shadow move over me.
“You shouldn’t be sleeping,” Connor stated as he kneeled down to the floor in front of the couch. “Here, put this against your face.” He didn’t wait for me to move, instead taking my hand and placing the cool ice pack in my palm before pushing both to my face, covering my injured eye.
The ice pack was cold but not painfully so because he’d wrapped it in one of the dishtowels I kept in the drawer by the sink.
“Good thing I spotted the ice packs in the back of the freezer. I thought I was going to have to use that bag of frozen vegetables.”
I gave him a small smile. “Better that than the steak.”
“That would’ve been my next option.”
Just as he finished that declaration the beeping sound of my microwave went off.
“Oh.” He jumped up quicker than anyone would suspect a man of his size being capable of and padded his way into the kitchen.
I didn’t bother asking him what he was preparing in there because the ice pack was feeling too good on my face. It was helping to alleviate much of the pain in my face and even my headache.
“You need to eat. Sit up.”
To say I was surprised to see Connor standing over me with one of my silver serving plates complete with a bowl of homemade chicken and dumpling soup from my freezer would’ve been an understatement. There were two bowls, actually, and after taking the tray, Connor sat next to me, plucking one of the bowls and spoons and began eating. I followed suit once I placed the ice pack on the coffee table.
“This is good. Why the hell would you go out for dinner when you had this right in your freezer?”
I grinned, remembering that this whole encounter had started because, stupidly, I’d wanted to pick up something for dinner and decided to take a walk to the grocer a few blocks over to get there.
“I made this last week and stuck the leftovers in the freezer, and forgot they were there, honestly.” Truthfully, I was on my way to the grocer mostly for ice cream but didn’t want to tell him that I was planning on having ice cream for dinner.
“Made this yourself? No shit.” He sounded impressed.
“You like it?”
“Yeah.”
My insides warmed. I loved when people enjoyed my food. Maybe that was why I hadn’t wanted to eat the leftovers. I got joy out of cooking for other people instead of just myself.
I took a spoonful of the soup and let it warm me from the inside out, which Connor had already started the process on. Somehow I found myself leaning closer and closer to him. His body warmth
was magnetic.
“I can’t believe you were out in just a T-shirt and jacket. It’s close to forty degrees out tonight,” I commented, noting the dark cotton V-neck he had on under his leather jacket.
He grinned down at me and I noticed, not for the first time, the perfectly straight, pearly white teeth of his. I loved a man with great teeth.
“Irish blood, sweetheart. We’re used to shitty weather.”
“Are you from Ireland?”
“Parents are. Second generation Irish here. Born and raised in the good ol’ US of A.”
I took another spoonful of soup and then another, realizing how hungry I actually was.
“Oh no you don’t,” he warned at the same time I yawned.
“What?”
“Falling asleep. You need to keep those eyes open for at least another few hours.”
I gave him a deadpan expression. “In case you haven’t noticed, only one of my eyes is actually open.” And just in case he didn’t get my drift, I pointed to my swollen eye.
He visibly flinched and his lips pinched as he scowled while looking at my swollen eye. However, in a flash the expression was gone and he steeled his face. “I noticed.” His voice sounded heavier, angrier.
“You got a deck of cards?” he asked. “And put that ice pack back on.”
Again he didn’t wait for me to respond to his order, instead stuffing the cool pack back in my hand and pressing it to my face. The movement was quick but it was gentle.
“How am I supposed to get you the deck of cards with this on my face?”
“Easy. Tell me where they are and I’ll get them.”
I rolled my good eye because that solution was all too easy. “Whatever. In the hallway closet, second shelf, next to the rest of the games.”
Connor followed the direction I just gave him, and I was surprised at how lithe and limber he truly was. It wasn’t the first I’ve noticed it, obviously, but he truly was light on his feet for such a big man. He hardly made a sound as he strode down the hallway.
“Of course.” He rounded the corner sounding disgusted.
“What?”
“Pink playing cards? Who the hell has hot pink playing cards?”
No Coincidence Page 6
