“Alessa,” he said softly. She opened her eyes and got lost in his, in the sincerity, the masked pain that made her curious. He leaned closer, his breath warming her face. “I won’t leave you.”
* * * *
She couldn’t speak when he helped her sit up. She needed all of her energy just to breathe and realize that she made it through. Josh hadn’t left, and she hadn’t freaked out. She tried to smile but it hurt. Her eyes were still a bit blurry from having them closed so she couldn’t see the name of the nurse who came to her side to assist her into the wheelchair.
“Thanks for the day at the beach.” Her voice came out croaky. She needed a drink. Josh nodded and gave a tight smile, unlike the one he had given her before she went into the MRI machine. Though the nurse placed a blanket on her lap; the absence of light in Josh’s eyes made her feel cold.
“I need to stay here and take a look at the results. Nurse Patty will take you up to your room,” he said.
Her heart caught at the same time as her breath, and her vision blurred slightly. Breathe, Alessa, it’ll be fine. Just breathe.
“You’re not . . .”
“I’ll check on you during rounds,” Josh interrupted. He gave a smile to the nurse and turned way before Alessa could say anything else.
“Let’s go, lovey,” the nurse said. She had a musical voice that didn’t seem to match the brisk movements of her hands as she released the break and moved them forward. Alessa blinked back the tears threatening to form for reasons she couldn’t explain. The trip back up to Alessa’s room was made in silence, and that was fine with her. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak without crying anyway.
“You warm enough?” Nurse Patty asked after helping Alessa into her bed.
“Yes. Thank you.”
She moved to where a covered tray sat on the moving table. Pulling it closer, she lifted the lid and surveyed the selection for Alessa. “Would you believe me if I said this is better than what I can cook at home?” The nurse laughed, picked up the Jell-O, and grabbed the spoon.
Alessa moved to take the Jell-O, her hand closed around the handle of the spoon when a sharp pain hit right behind her eyes.
“It’s not like you can eat anything else. You’ll eat this,” his cold, angry voice demanded, shoving a spoonful of red Jell-O at her lips. She tried to move her head but couldn’t. His other hand gripped her chin roughly, making her choke on her own sob.
“Stop crying. You have no one to blame but yourself,” he continued furiously, pushing the metal spoon between her teeth. Part of the Jell-O fell onto her lap in the struggle, which only served to make him madder. He shook her chin with his hand, and she gagged.
The spoon clattered onto the linoleum, making Alessa jump. She bit her lip to keep from crying, forgetting it was split, and tasted blood.
“Hey. It’s okay, sweetie. We have more spoons. Not a big deal. Just let me grab you a fresh one.”
It took almost as much effort to find her voice as it did to get out of bed earlier. “No Jell-O. I’m not hungry.”
Nurse Patty looked at her when she straightened from picking up the spoon. She stared at Alessa for a moment, her eyes as dark as her black hair, and her lips frowning. “Are you all right?”
“My head . . . it hurts.”
She put the spoon down and grabbed Alessa’s chart, pulled a pen from the pocket of her patterned scrubs. “You had a bad headache earlier this morning, too?”
“Yes. It’s nothing. I just . . . need some rest. The MRI machine gave me the creeps.” Alessa tried to smile. “I’m claustrophobic.”
The nurse nodded in understanding, making a note in the chart while Alessa tried not to wince from the dwindling pain. It was dulling, becoming more of an ache than a sharp stab.
“You’re not alone there.”
The words stung when Alessa realized she was alone in every other way. Nurse Patty left her food close enough to reach. “I’ll be back to check on you later. Buzz if you need anything before then.” Nurse Patty smiled and patted Alessa’s shoulder.
Alessa lay back on the double pillows stacked behind her head and closed her eyes. She could feel the tears seeping out of the corners. Gripping the sheet, she tried to make herself remember something . . . anything. But she couldn’t pull any of the images back. Not the man’s face. She could remember the anger in his voice though, and it made the hair on her arms stand up. A sound startled her, making her eyes pop open as she placed a hand on her racing heart.
“Hey. Just me,” Josh said, opening her chart. Some of the warmth seemed to have returned to his eyes, but she knew he had other patients, and he must be tired of caring for her. She wondered how she would care for herself when she left. Where she would go.
Gritting her teeth, she gave him a weak smile. “Hi,” was all she managed.
She saw the crease in his brow when he glanced back up at her. He looked like he hadn’t had time to shave today, and she felt a pang of guilt for taking up his time.
“Another headache?”
“It didn’t last. It’s fine.”
He kept his gaze level on her, waiting for her to say more. She had nothing to tell. There was no point in telling him she was having flashes unless she could make some sort of sense out of them. He replaced her chart and pulled his penlight out of his white jacket pocket. Moving to the edge of the bed, he rested his hip so it was touching hers and gently touched her face. She closed her eyes but knew she didn’t imagine the way his thumb softly moved across her brow before he asked her to open her eyes. When she did, he shone the light into each one, checking them. His shoulders remained stiff while he continued to frown at her.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, almost as if he was asking himself.
She shook her head gently.
“Your husband?”
His hand rested near hers, and the feel of his hip beside her felt solid and real.
“I’m not married,” she replied, focused on the physical connection between them. She no longer felt cold, and she didn’t understand what it was about him that made her feel so safe. She looked into his eyes and noted they showed surprise.
“Are you sure? You said you don’t remember anything,” he reminded her.
This caused her own brow to crease as she tried to figure out how she could be so sure of something yet remember nothing. “I’m sure. I’m not married. I would know if I was. The same as I know I have no family for you to call.”
“I want to keep you for at least another night. I’m not seeing any abnormalities. Other than cuts and bruises, some broken ribs—you seem to be okay. But the headaches concern me, and I’d rather be safe.”
She tried not to reveal the relief she felt over not having to worry about where she would go when she was released. Perhaps the headaches weren’t so bad after all if they gave her an extra day or two to try to remember. Though, if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t altogether certain she wanted to recall much if her flashes were any indication. Josh stood, and she felt the lack of his warmth.
“You should eat something.” His voice was soft, soothing.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I’m going to give you some pain meds. They’ll upset your stomach if you don’t eat.”
He picked up the small pitcher of ice water and poured some into a plastic cup, handed it to her. She finished the whole glass and held it back out, making him smile.
“This time with the pills.” He grinned, making him look younger as he passed her a tiny plastic cup with two pills inside. She kept her eyes wide open and on his the entire time, hoping that staying focused on him would keep her from another flash.
“All gone.” She smiled, and stuck her tongue out to prove it. He laughed lightly and took the cups from her, tossed the small one in the trash. He checked his pager, frowned, and then looked back up at her. “Do you think my memory will return?”
“I’m not sure. As I said, it’s not uncommon for victims of abuse to block memori
es. Almost self-preservation.”
She leaned her head back again and sighed. He moved to her side once more, and she could smell his cologne. It was becoming almost familiar to her, comforting.
“Well, maybe it’s better that way. I wasn’t living the best life. Clearly. I made someone mad.” She ran her fingers over the raised pattern in the hospital blanket.
“There is absolutely nothing you did to deserve this,” he said his tone quiet but firm. She continued to trace the pattern. “Alessa, look at me.”
When her gaze found his, it was like lightning in her belly. Fast, intense, and electric. His eyes were fierce.
“No one deserves to be hurt like this, to be hurt at all. Regardless of what you remember, you need to go forward remembering that.”
She nodded, her eyelids heavy. She didn’t want to close them though. She didn’t want him to leave.
“You need some rest. But you’re safe. You know that right?”
She frowned at him, wondering how he could know that. He tilted his head to the side. How old is he? His eyes seemed older than the rest of him, and she figured he had seen enough to make that possible.
“Thank you. You’re going above and beyond. I’m sorry I’m taking up so much of your time.”
He stood for a moment, saying nothing, and she couldn’t read his expression. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he ran his hand through his already mussed hair. Giving a sigh, he stepped closer, put his hand over hers on the bed and squeezed lightly. Her pulse picked up even as her eyelids drifted closed. She tried to turn her hand in his, but her arm felt heavy. As she nodded off, she thought she heard him say, “I want to be with you.” She tried to respond, tried to repeat his words so when she woke up, she could at least remember if he had really said them or if she had just wished he had.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Josh reached out and slapped the top of his nightstand repeatedly until he made contact with his snooze button. He attempted to block out the light, and his dream of Laura, by pulling the pillow over his face. It helped with the light, but the image of Laura’s unhappy face when he had dropped her off after their first date so long ago was etched in his mind.
Tossing the pillow, he sat up and yawned loudly. He checked his pager and his phone, though he knew if they had gone off, he would have heard them immediately. His brain was hardwired to wake up the second they chimed. He stood and stretched, not minding the rays of light dancing into his room through small spaces in the blinds. He rubbed his hand absently over his bare chest before heading toward the attached master bathroom to take a shower. He decided to shave first since he had skipped it the last couple of days in favor of seeing Alessa. He wondered if she was awake, if she’d had any more headaches. She would go home, or somewhere, today. He wondered if any memories came back to her. Providing her headaches weren’t an issue overnight, he would need to discharge her today.
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he ran the water hot for his shower. He stepped under the spray, let it rain down on his skin, and he felt himself finally waking up and shaking off the last of his dream. Laura had been gone close to two and half years, and over time, the dreams and the nightmares had decreased. He moved into this house shortly after her death, needing a fresh start. In truth, he needed to be able to wake up in a bed, in a room, in a house that didn’t constantly remind him he had failed her; that he hadn’t been strong enough to save her. Enough. You’re done with this. There was nothing else you could have done. Saying it to himself didn’t always make it feel true, but it helped.
Turning off the shower and grabbing a towel, his stomach rumbled, reminding him he should probably hit the market soon. He was out of almost everything, except coffee. He was never out of coffee. Checking his pager and phone again, he dressed quickly so he could have a cup before he headed to the hospital. When he yanked a dark blue sweater over his head, he had a flash of the torn and tattered shirt of a similar color that Alessa wore on the night she’d been brought in.
As the coffee dripped and teased his senses, he dialed Amanda’s number. His sister was always up so he didn’t worry that he would wake her.
“Hi. I was just thinking about you,” she answered on the third ring.
“Funny. I was just thinking about you. How are you?”
“Good. Busy. We’re planning a carnival at the church to support single mothers—fun for the kids and some down time for the moms. It’ll give them a chance to connect with job counselors as well as professionals that can help them create resumes,” she prattled while Josh filled his mug and tried to pay attention to what she was saying. As he took his first sip and said a silent thank-you to the person who discovered caffeine, she continued. “Maybe you could bring some information about volunteering at the hospital. Really, we just want these women to see there are lots of ways to connect and get involved in the community.”
“I’ll think about it. Speaking of getting involved and helping, do you have any clothes you could donate? I have a patient who was brought in a couple nights ago, and she has no family, no memory, and no clean clothes to leave in when I discharge her today.”
He opened the fridge to see if there was anything resembling breakfast and took one of the two apples he had left. He set it on the counter and returned to his coffee.
“Oh. Well, yes. I’m sure I have something. Doesn’t the hospital have an assortment of clothes and things for these instances?” Amanda asked.
With only a three-year age gap, he and his sister had always been close. Since Laura passed, he hadn’t spent as much time with his sister or her husband, Ethan. Come to think of it, he hadn’t spent much time with his parents either. Holidays and birthdays and only if he wasn’t working. Though it didn’t make him proud, being with them only reinforced how far he’d fallen. After Laura died, he’d put everything he had left inside of him, which hadn’t been much by that point, and channeled it into his work. Lately, he wondered if he was failing there as well.
“Josh?”
“Sorry. Yes, they do, but, well . . . she’s obviously been traumatized, and I thought it would be more comforting for her to have something not quite so impersonal. Besides, she’s small like you are,” he finally answered. He could see Alessa’s slender shape in his mind and felt momentarily guilty before remembering the bruises and welts he’d seen on her when he cleaned her up. His grip tightened on the handle of his mug, making his fingers dig into his palms. He set the mug down, extending his fingers in an attempt to relax his hand.
“Okay. Well, sure. I have some things. Do you want to come over and get them?” Amanda’s tone softened.
He knew she was biting her lip right now. She tried hard not to push him away, but he didn’t make it easy. Amanda divided her time into caring for others and the church. She seemed happy and fulfilled, and now and again, when he thought on it too long, he envied that sense of peace that emanated from her, wished he could absorb it.
“I’ll be by in twenty minutes. I need to get to the hospital. Is that enough time?”
“Sure. Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“I miss you—”
“Amanda.”
“That’s all. Just me. Nothing about the church. I miss you. I miss my brother.”
He leaned against the counter and watched as one of his neighbors, whose name he didn’t know, dragged his garbage cans to the curb.
“I miss you, too. I forgot to put the garbage out. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
He frowned at the phone when he realized she’d hung up before he could say goodbye. Taking a long swallow of his coffee, he went to the garage to get his trash out so it didn’t have to sit an extra week, and so he didn’t forget, again.
* * * *
As he pulled into the staff parking at the hospital, the light rain quickly covered his windshield once he turned the car off. He leaned his head back against the seat. You’ve been up for an hour. How can you already feel exhausted
? He knew he wasn’t really tired though. He was restless about saying goodbye to Alessa. Where will she go? With who? The knock on his driver’s window jolted him, and he looked out through the tiny spaces between the raindrops to see David smiling at him. The umbrella he carried was large enough to be a tent, so Josh figured he might as well take advantage and hopped out of his car. He reached back at the last minute, remembering to grab the bag of clothes Amanda gave him. She’d restrained herself from asking questions, which he appreciated. She had asked him to dinner, which he evaded, saying he would check his schedule.
“Taking a little pre-shift nap? You’re getting old, son. Can’t keep up?” David teased good-naturedly.
“It’s getting harder. I’m almost as old as you now, after all.” Josh tucked the bag under his arm as they walked toward one of the many entrances.
“You barely remember to shop—you didn’t actually make yourself a lunch, did you?”
Josh’s shoulders tightened. They approached a side entrance, and David scanned his key card to get them in.
“No. It’s some clothes.”
Josh held the door while David shook out his umbrella and closed it up. The smile in David’s eyes told Josh that David assumed the clothes were for him; most of the hospital staff kept at least one change of clothes in their locker. He didn’t particularly want to correct David’s assumption.
“Your memory loss patient leaving today?” David asked. They walked the well-lit, stark white hallway toward one of the doctor’s lounges.
“As long as her headaches aren’t an issue. How was your surgery yesterday?” Josh let David ahead of him into the lounge.
“Routine. Have you given any thought to California?” David pulled off his jacket and stuck it inside his locker. Josh did the same.
Dangerous Love Page 4