Our building came into view, and I boarded the elevator. Every floor that I went up, my nerves frayed just a little bit more. My past was not something I was proud of. My past was something I had to live with every single day. It was the kind of past that would forever be part of the present because living with it was part of my penance.
The second the doors opened onto her floor, I was distracted by commotion in the hallway. Uneasiness propelled me forward toward several paramedics wearing full gear and carrying equipment as they stepped out of Nora’s apartment.
Every drop of blood in my body went cold. Frantically, I looked around for Knox, hoping he could offer some sort of explanation. He was nowhere to be seen.
“Excuse me!” Jogging the rest of the way to the apartment, I stopped, craning my neck to see inside the open door. “What’s going on here?”
“This your apartment?” one of the EMTs asked.
“I own it.” I confirmed.
“We received a 9-1-1 call about an injured female—”
“Nora!” I yelled, shoving past them into the apartment. “Nora!” I yelled again, rushing back into the bedroom, banging open the bathroom door.
She wasn’t there.
“Sir!” one of the men yelled.
I ran back out, skidding to a stop in the living room. There was blood on the floor and smeared on the coffee table.
“What the hell happened?” I demanded, pointing violently toward the mess.
“We don’t know. When we got here, the door was open, but the place was empty.”
“Empty?” I echoed. Reaching into my pocket for my phone, I cursed. I didn’t have it.
Grabbing one of the EMTs by his jacket, I dragged him close. “Who called you? What did they say? Was it Nora?” My heart was racing, and there was a low ringing sound in my ears.
“We don’t know. We—”
I shoved him away.
“Hey!” one of the other men yelled, but I ignored them all.
Going over to the blood on the floor, I knelt beside it, as if being close would tell me whose it was. The corner of a white piece of paper sticking out from beneath the couch caught my attention. It was near the blood… so much blood.
My fingers quaked as I lifted the paper—a photo—and turned it over. I was assaulted by images, memories of that horrible night, of the weeks that passed after it. The betrayal, the pain…
“Carter!” Aaron yelled, running into the apartment.
“Get Knox on the line!” I bellowed, not even thinking to ask how he knew to come.
Cutting through the paramedics still standing around, he held out his cell. “He’s here.”
“Knox!” I bellowed. “Where’s Nora?”
“Boss.” Knox’s voice didn’t sound right. It was low and flat.
“Nora!” I yelled.
“We’re at the hospital right now. I had to bring her into the ER.”
Standing straight become too great a burden, and I sagged forward. Aaron was there, shoving his shoulder underneath me to offer support.
“Put her on the phone,” I insisted.
There was a pause.
“The phone, Knox!” I yelled. “Put Nora on the fucking phone!”
“I can’t.”
If I thought I was cold before, now I was experiencing frostbite. Every part of me was numb, and if I allowed it, my teeth would chatter. “Why?”
“She’s unconscious,” Knox said but then quickly added, “She’s going to be okay.”
“Who did this?” I asked, the temperature in my voice matching that of my body.
Everyone in the room stilled and looked at me.
Good. Let them stare. Let them learn that I was not a man to be crossed.
“It was Alan.”
I sucked in a breath. Against me, Aaron tensed.
“You take care of it?”
“I tried—” He began, anxiety in his voice.
“Don’t you leave her side,” I demanded. “Not for one fucking second!”
“I swear.”
“I’m on my way,” I growled, shoving the phone back at Aaron. “We have to go.”
“She’s already at the hospital, guys,” Aaron explained to the confused paramedics. “Thanks for coming.”
My legs felt like rubber, but I ran out into the hall anyway. Too impatient for the elevator, I shoved into the stairwell and ran down every flight.
Aaron kept pace with me as we erupted out of the building and onto the sidewalk.
“Taxi!” I yelled, running to the curb.
Occupied taxis passed by, not a single empty one in sight.
“Knox said she was gonna be fine,” Aaron told me, trying to get me to bring it down a notch.
“I’m gonna kill him.” I fumed.
Grabbing a handful of my shirt, he yanked me back, nearly wiping my feet out from under me. “You know you can’t talk like that. Don’t let me hear you say anything like that again.”
“She’s unconscious,” I whispered, feeling something inside me crack. “She’s fucking unconscious, and I’m not there.”
Swearing, Aaron released me and waved toward the street. “Taxi!”
After a few endless moments of both of us screaming at every car that passed, I caught sight of one bright-yellow cab turning onto our street. Stepping off the curb, I waved both arms, signaling for it to stop. The unoccupied sign on the roof flipped to occupied, and the cab slid into a lane closer to us.
Anxiously, I waited, stepping a little farther out onto the pavement.
“Aaron!” I called, glancing back over my shoulder. “I got one!”
Aaron turned, and his face transformed almost instantly. Panic made him age about five years right before my eyes, and he started to run.
“No!” he yelled. “Carter, no!”
Confused, I turned to look, and realization slammed into me.
The cab coming to pick us up wasn’t slowing down. Instead, it was heading right toward me, and I swear the sound of it accelerating filled the street.
Something slammed into me. The wind whooshed right out of me, and everything around me turned white. The sounds of tires squealing and people screaming filled my ears.
Hitting the ground with blunt force, I felt the skin on my elbows and forearms rip open with painful clarity. I rolled, falling onto my back and staring up at the Miami blue sky… thinking that the color reminded me of Nora’s eyes.
Nora!
Forgetting I was just hit by a car, I lurched up, swaying on my feet.
Someone nearby caught my arm. “Are you okay?”
It took a moment to register it wasn’t Aaron beside me.
“What?” I said, more confused than I realized.
“You almost got hit! Do you know the man who pushed you out of the way?”
Awareness came flooding back, overwhelming me with its sudden force. Whipping around, I looked out onto the street where there was a crowd of people gathered around something on the road.
Not something… someone.
“Aaron!” I bellowed, staggering forward. “Aaron!”
The crowd parted to reveal my brother, my best friend, lying in a bloody heap. Moaning, I dropped to my knees beside him, grabbing his face and screaming his name again.
“Carter,” he answered, shocking me silent for long seconds.
Leaning down until we were almost nose to nose, I stared at him. “Don’t you dare die,” I threatened. “Don’t you dare fucking leave me alone.”
He tried to laugh, but it turned into a cough, and blood splattered my shirt.
“Help!” I roared. “Someone get some fucking help!”
I glanced around as the paramedics I’d just seen upstairs came out of the building.
“Get them!” I yelled, pointing. “Help! Over here!”
Seeing an emergency, the EMTs rushed over.
I turned back to Aaron, my heart nearly stopping with relief when he was still looking back at me. “How bad is it?” I asked.
<
br /> “Bad enough I need a raise.” His voice was weak, and the joke wasn’t funny.
“Don’t ever fucking do that again.” I raged. “Don’t you ever!”
“B-be c-careful,” he rasped, pain twisting his face. Blood dripped from his cut lip and the gash in his forehead.
“Shh!” I shushed. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of you.”
The paramedics arrived, and I was forced to let them work.
When the ambulance pulled up and someone tried to look at the cuts on my arms, I rebuffed their attempts. “I don’t care about me!” I seethed. “Take care of him!”
When they loaded him onto a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance, I climbed in beside him, taking his hand.
“Nora,” he mouthed under the oxygen mask.
“I’ll see her when we get there.” I promised, totally not missing the fact that the two people who meant the most to me were currently in crisis.
Nora
“Nora?”
The voice calling out to me sounded a light-year away.
“Nora, can you hear me?”
His familiar voice beckoned like a single star in an otherwise black night. Just knowing he was nearby alleviated much of the loneliness I felt trapped in the dark like this.
“How much longer will she be out like this?” The anguish he clearly felt motivated me to battle back to him.
Slowly, I was able to open my eyes, the overhead light making me recoil.
“Nora?” I felt him lean over me. His frame offered a barrier against the light, making it so I could blink up at him.
I smiled. He was so beautiful… even if he looked like he’d been dragged into hell.
The thought was jarring and immediately made me afraid. “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to sit up. “What happened?”
“Shh, shh,” he insisted, gently pushing me back onto the mattress. When he moved, the light blinded me again.
“It’s so bright.”
“Turn off the lights,” Carter demanded to someone close by. “Get the doctor!”
The light switched off, making me sigh gratefully. Carter still floated over me, his hands hovering close, clearly wanting to touch me but also clearly unsure.
I looked around, trying to recognize where we were.
“Look at me.” He cajoled. “Just look at me.”
I did, searching his face for answers.
“We’re at the hospital. There was an accident, and you passed out.”
The explanation unlocked all the memories of earlier today as feelings and images replayed inside me. Pain radiated in my head, and I reached up.
“Don’t touch it,” he commanded gently, taking my hand and linking it with his. Kissing the back, he said, “You hit your head and have seven stitches.”
“I just wanted him to leave,” I said, a catch in my voice.
Carter stilled, but his eyes and touch remained gentle. “Who?”
“Alan.” His name brought on a whole other host of thoughts, and I gasped. Springing up, wooziness overcame me, and I put a hand to my forehead.
Carter sat down on the side of the bed, wrapping an arm around my waist. “You need to rest right now.”
“Knox.” I worried. “Where’s Knox?”
“He’s getting the doctor.”
Grabbing a fistful of Carter’s shirt, I said, “Knox has some papers… papers we can’t let anyone else see.”
Something passed behind his expression, but my brain was too befuddled to make sense of what I saw. “Don’t worry about that right now.”
“I have to!” I pushed at his chest, thinking I could just get out of bed. The IV that was stuck into the back of my hand tugged, and I glared at it accusingly.
The door opened, and Knox rushed in, followed by a doctor in a white coat.
“Ms. Williams, you’re awake,” the doctor announced as if it weren’t already obvious. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m not sure,” I replied, still trying to get a handle on everything.
Even though I was awake and it seemed there was nothing seriously wrong with me, Carter appeared really stressed.
“I’ll just do an examination, ask a few questions, and maybe make things a little clearer.”
I nodded. Carter nudged me back against the pillows, staying very close.
The doctor cleared his throat. “I take it you also will refuse to leave the room?”
“Also?” I repeated.
“It’s not happening,” Carter replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Miss, are you okay with these gentlemen staying in the room for your exam?”
Carter made a rude sound, unfolding his arms.
Catching his hand, I pulled it into my lap, giving it a squeeze. “It’s fine with me.”
“I’ll be over here.” Knox assured me. “I won’t look, ma’am. But if you need me, just yell.”
Looking past the doctor, I watched Knox turn toward the corner. Something seemed strange about him, and then I realized. “Where’s your suit? Why are you wearing scrubs?”
I didn’t think I’d ever seen him in anything other than black before.
“Uhh…” Knox hesitated.
“Knox…” I warned.
“It’s not important.” Carter chimed in.
Knox looked between me and Carter as if he didn’t know who to listen to. But then he sighed and glanced toward the floor. “You got sick all over my suit. The staff offered me these.”
“Whose bodyguard are you?” Carter accused, betrayed.
“Mine,” I announced. Glancing at the doctor, I said, “That’s my bodyguard.”
He nodded cordially. “He hasn’t left your side since he brought you in.”
“I’m sorry I threw up all over you,” I told him.
“I needed a new suit anyway.”
“Oh,” I said, an idea coming to me. “We should get you something that isn’t black.”
“You’re a patient.” Carter reminded me, his voice strained. “This is not the time to talk about shopping.”
Knox turned back to the corner, and the doctor came closer. Carter stood over us the entire time, watching his every move.
“Well then,” the doc said, stepping back to make some notes in my chart. “It appears the blow to your head didn’t do any serious damage. You do have a concussion, the stitches, and you’ll probably have quite the headache for a day or two, but otherwise, I would say you were rather lucky.”
“Why was there so much blood?” Carter asked, suspicious.
“How do you know how much blood there was?” I asked.
“Head wounds always bleed quite a lot,” the doctor replied. “We’d like to keep you overnight for observation, and the nurse will be in later to tell you about wound care.”
Carter thanked the doctor rigidly while Knox held the door open for him to leave.
My heavens, these guys were rude.
“Thank you,” I called out, hoping to soften the way these boneheads acted.
When he was gone, I glared at both of them. “Why are you being so rude?”
Carter grunted. “If I act too nice, then he won’t do his job right.”
Knox made a sound of agreement.
“He’s a doctor!” I exclaimed, then put a hand to my forehead.
Carter rushed close, putting his arm around me and easing me back. “Watch your head.” He worried.
“Ma’am.” Knox stepped toward the bed, concern in his tone as well.
Carter flicked a glance upward. “Go see if you can find any info on Aaron.”
“Aaron? What’s wrong with Aaron?” I stressed, sitting up again.
Knox hesitated nearby, but Carter gestured for him to get out.
The second we were alone, I turned questioning eyes on him.
“You need to rest.”
“Where is Aaron?”
Sighing, Carter kicked off his shoes and climbed into the bed. Noticing the cuts and scrapes all over his forear
ms and the blood all over his shirt, I put a hand to his chest, stopping him.
“You’re hurt!” Grabbing his wrist, I tried to look at his injuries.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, shrugging off my hands.
“Knox!” I called.
“He already left—”
Knox burst into the room, cutting off Carter’s words.
“Ma’am?”
“I told you to check on Aaron,” Carter muttered.
“I need something to clean this,” I told him, pointing at the injuries on Carter’s arms.
“Right away.” Knox agreed, disappearing.
Glowering, Carter asked, “How did you manage to get the loyalty of my men?”
“You’re the one that said I had to have a bodyguard,” I countered.
“Probably the same way you got mine,” he murmured, petting my head.
My stomach dipped, and all I could think about was all the things Alan just told me about Carter. I couldn’t believe him. I couldn’t believe all the accusations he so callously offered up. How could I? How could I believe the man sitting here so obviously worried about me was a killer?
“What happened?” he asked quietly, realizing my thoughts were troubled.
Taking a breath, I shook my head. “I want to know about Aaron first.”
Visibly, he debated. I could practically hear the turmoil going on inside him. Grasping his hand, I said, “Please tell me.”
As he wrapped an arm around me, I leaned into him more than the bed.
“On our way here, he was hit by a car.”
I gasped. “Where?”
“Outside our building. I’d gone home to see you, but then we got the call from Knox.”
“He’s here at the hospital?”
Carter nodded, his face slightly ashen. “He’s in surgery.”
“Surgery!”
“You need to stay calm.”
“How bad is he?” I pressed, ignoring him.
“He was conscious the whole time. He has some stitches, broken ribs… a collapsed lung.”
Groaning, I leaned into him. The back of my head felt tight and oddly numb. There was pain, but it was muted somehow.
“Did they give me pain medication?”
“Is it not working?” he demanded. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“No.” Tugging him back down, I tried to assure him. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
Mr. Fantasy: (A standalone romance) Page 25