I nodded my head, my heart swelling at the thought of getting to spend any amount of time with him.
“Okay,” she said. “Now, he needs to have his wound checked around midnight, then again in the morning. We want to make sure that there isn’t any excessive bleeding or that an infection doesn’t set in.”
CHAPTER 6
As long as I have a vagina, you’ll never go hungry.
-Text from Carmichael to Croft
CROFT
Five minutes earlier
The nurse came in and shooed everyone out, including Karen and Carmichael.
Carmichael left way too easily, Karen, on the other hand, looked as if she was trudging through mud up to her knees on the way out.
The nurse fussed with my pillow, checked my blood pressure, took a look at my wound, and then said, “The doctor thinks that you can go home tonight. However, you will need to follow up with your primary care physician in seven to ten days to get these stitches checked. Also, you will need to watch the wound closely for signs of bleeding or an infection.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose with my free hand. The one that didn’t currently have a bullet hole in the arm connected to it.
“What’s the damage?” I finally asked. “What does he think on it? Can I resume regular daily activities?”
She removed the dressing and I looked down at it.
The shot went through the upper meat of my arm. It wasn’t hitting bone, but it definitely hadn’t just skimmed me, either.
“I think that with a week or so of rest you should be fine.” She pressed the skin around the bullet hole. “You were very lucky. If you follow this down just slightly, you get to the artery, and you wouldn’t be here right now.”
I looked at where she was pointing and was surprised to see that only about an inch or so separated my bullet hole from her finger.
I shivered.
“I didn’t really feel all that lucky until you just said that,” I admitted. “I’ll try not to be such a Debbie Downer now.”
She winked. “You’re allowed to be a Debbie Downer when you’re shot. At least, that’s what I hear.”
I snickered but quickly sobered when even that small movement made things hurt that should never hurt.
My eyes drooped as pain almost overtook me, but when I closed my eyes, I heard Carmichael’s voice, low and soft, in the hallway as she spoke with her brother.
I was so focused on her voice that the pain that I felt previously slowly lessened to more manageable levels, as if her voice was hypnotizing it away.
Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have her with me tonight.
And tomorrow.
Possibly all the days after that.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts of Carmichael and her in my house playing nurse, in a short white skirt and a tight little white top that showed off her perfect set of tits, that I didn’t realize that the nurse was going to touch my shoulder until pain once again shot through me.
“Ow,” I groaned.
“Sorry,” she said as she cleaned up some of my arm with an alcohol swab. “Go back to your happy place.”
“How do you know I was in a happy place?” I asked curiously.
My dick wasn’t hard, was it?
“You were smiling and you weren’t paying a lick of attention to me. I know when a man gets all dreamy-eyed over a girl,” she admitted.
Dreamy-eyed wasn’t even the least of what I felt for Carmichael Stone.
I think it was more like obsession.
If I could just get her to forgive me, that is.
I was thinking things through, wondering if there was a way to get her to listen to me grovel, when the greatest idea ever hit me.
“Do you think,” I said softly, “that you can get rid of that really thin blonde that was in here just a few minutes ago? Ask for Carmichael, the woman that looks like a doll, to come back? Also, when you come back in with my discharge papers, could you possibly maybe mention to me that I need someone to watch over me tonight?”
Her eyes swam with humor.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do that. Lying is against the rules,” she admitted.
I wrinkled my nose, knowing that she was probably right. I shouldn’t trick Carmichael. But just the idea of her going home to her house after what had happened to me today was downright terrifying.
“It’s not just what you think,” I admitted. “That woman had her house broken into last night by the same man that shot me today. I don’t want her alone, and she’s stubborn as they come.”
Her eyes took on an understanding that made me think that she just might do it.
“I can do that,” she said. “But only for one night. You’ll have to figure out the rest on your own after tomorrow.”
I held up my fist and said, “Fist bump.”
She snorted and bumped my fist with her own.
“You’ll need someone to drive you home anyway after the cocktail that I just gave you,” she admitted.
I hadn’t been aware that she’d given me one.
It must’ve been when I’d been dreaming of Carmichael that she’d done it. That, or I was just that fucked-up.
I couldn’t complain about the drugs, either. Even now the feeling of lightness started to spread through me.
The dull throbbing of my shoulder turned into a light, almost able to ignore, tremble.
“I swear it’s all on the up and up,” I lied.
She snorted and fisted her trash, taking her things to the trash can before ripping off her gloves and washing her hands in the sink next to my bed.
Once she was done she tore a few paper towels off and studied me closely.
“I think I could do that.” She paused. “You’re probably going to want the help in the morning anyway. The pain medication will wear off, and you’re going to feel like you’ve been hit by a bus.” I imagined I would. “Now, I’m going to go talk to your doll. You make sure you get ready to go. At least, mostly. You can put these pants on, and I’ll help you with the rest when I get back with the discharge paperwork.”
I pried my eyes open wider and stared at the scrubs that I hadn’t been aware she’d laid at the end of the bed.
I nodded my head and started to swing my hips over the side of the bed, thankful not to have the wires and the IV attached to me any longer.
When had she taken all of that off?
Shedding the hospital gown, I stepped very carefully into the scrub pants and then lifted them up.
I was literally pulling the scrub pants up over my ass with one hand when I heard more than saw her come in.
It was the gasp and the ‘oh, shit’ that had me turning to face her.
“Hey,” I said, feeling weak as a kitten, and kind of sad that my cock was now tucked away behind these awfully thin blue pants. “Can you come tie this for me? I don’t think I can manage it just yet.”
In fact, I knew that I couldn’t.
Though, saying that, I knew that if I just sat down they wouldn’t be threatening to fall down off my ass. I could wait until the nurse came in and get her to do it.
Yet, the idea of having Carmichael that close to me sounded heavenly.
So I would use the card while I had it to play.
She bit her lip, her black curls bouncing as she made her way toward me.
I wanted to reach up and tug that hair tie from her hair, to see her hair flowing freely around her shoulders just the way I liked it.
Instead, I kept my hands exactly where they were, resisting the urge to touch her even though I really wanted to.
I was doing pretty good with the idea of her putting her hands on me, really, I was. Until she dropped down onto her knees in front of me, and every single fucking fantasy I’d ever had about her came to light.
Her mouth twisted and she bit her lip in concentration as she slowly reached for the ties on my pants.
I hiked them up further, which then caused my cock—which might not be super har
d because my brain wasn’t working right just yet, but it definitely wasn’t small either—was pulled up tight to the fabric.
Her breath hitched, and I closed my eyes and counted backward from one hundred in my head.
Her fingers went to work on the tie, and she moved in such a way that her knuckles bounced slightly against my left testicle.
I wasn’t sure that she noticed what she touched. I sure the hell did, though.
In between one breath and the next, she was standing.
“Oh, that looks bad,” she said as she pressed lightly against the skin right under my elbow.
Not anywhere close to the bullet hole, but I knew exactly what she was talking about.
“Looks as bad as it feels,” I didn’t see the point in lying. “Zero out of five stars. Do not recommend.”
She snorted lightly and reached beside me to grab the shirt.
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “I literally don’t think that I can get it on. I’ll walk out without a shirt on.”
She frowned and looked at the shirt, then at me again.
“I don’t think it’ll fit, either,” I told her. “The pants are really tight around my thighs.”
She looked at my pants once again, then at the shirt.
“You have to custom tailor your suits, don’t you?” she asked quietly as she dropped the top back on the bed.
“Yes,” I winced. “Fuckin’ A. I just got that suit, too.”
“The one that you were shot in?” she asked.
I jerked my head in the affirmative, wishing I wouldn’t have almost immediately.
“Yeah,” I groaned. “Just picked it up yesterday. That fucking sucks donkey balls.”
“What does?” Flint asked.
I turned to see him and the nurse back at the door.
She was looking at a chart, and thankfully Karen wasn’t anywhere in sight.
“The fact that now I have to go get fitted for another suit when I despise the hell out of it,” I grumbled as I looked at my feet. “Did they fuck my shoes up, too?”
“Those are here,” I heard Carmichael say. “You want them on?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’m not walking out of here on bare feet. Do you know how dirty these floors likely are?”
She shook her head and tossed the shoes onto the floor.
I sat down and reached forward to grab one but immediately regretted it.
I felt a wave of nausea roll over me at the pain that ripped through me at the move.
“Let me do it,” came Carmichael’s soothing voice.
I couldn’t even appreciate her at all.
Not with the way that I was currently fighting not to throw up all over her and the floor.
“Pick your foot up,” she ordered.
I did and she slipped my stupidly expensive shoe on my foot. They were wet. Likely with blood.
I still didn’t care. I could probably get them cleaned. If I couldn’t, I’d wear them anyway.
Who looked at shoes anyway?
“Nobody does,” Carmichael answered. “At least not a man’s shoes. I don’t ever look at them. Now, if this were a woman’s shoe, I’d say the opposite. But they’re not that bad. And I don’t know about the scuffs from the concrete, but you could probably get them cleaned up just fine.”
I looked into her eyes and felt my breath hitch.
“Thanks,” I said softly, still fighting the nausea.
Her violet eyes warmed as she said, “No problem. Let’s get the other one on.”
I did, picking my foot up and not complaining at all when her fingers tickled the bottom of my feet.
When she was done, and I was officially discharged, we walked out of the hospital almost hand in hand.
Well, she was under my good shoulder steadying me, and her hands were on my bare chest.
All the while, though, I wondered if she really wanted to be there.
CHAPTER 7
I can get you on the naughty list.
-T-shirt
CROFT
“You need help out of the truck?” she asked, looking at me warily.
I shook my head and slid out, bouncing slightly when I finally made it to the ground.
My shoes were wet, my head was fuzzy, and I wanted nothing more than to go inside, sit on the couch, and not move for an hour.
It didn’t help that my parents had called while I was in the car with Flint and Carmichael, telling me that they would be out of touch while they were on vacation. I didn’t want to spoil their time so I chose not to say anything about being shot.
After spending the majority of the time trying to convince them that nothing was going on, I then fielded a call from the judge. He of course was assessing my ability to litigate at the trial scheduled to start on Friday.
After assuring him that I would be able to make it through the trial in two days—please sweet baby Jesus let that be true—we were arriving at the house.
Now Carmichael was standing in front of me, looking at me warily.
“You’re ashen,” she declared.
“I don’t do well in the car,” I admitted.
On top of the already present nausea from the pain, I was now motion sick.
Fun times.
“Y’all have everything?” Flint asked.
I gave him a thumb up and kept walking, my stomach tight with pain.
“Call if you need anything,” Flint honked twice, making me twitch.
Then he was heading down the street toward his own house.
“Twat,” she said. “He knew that’d scare you.”
I knew that, too.
At least he didn’t have my horn.
I’d put an air horn on my truck a couple of months ago because I’d thought it was awesome. I’d yet to get the chance to scare anyone.
One day…
“What are you grinning about?” she asked, looking at me.
I licked my lips. “I was thinking about the fact that I just got a new air horn put on my truck because your brother thinks it’s fucking hilarious to scare us with his squad car. I can’t wait to get him back.”
Her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
“Please, please let me do this to him when he comes over tomorrow morning,” she pleaded.
I snorted. “No way, Jose. That’s my brand-new gift to myself for my birthday. I get to scare him first.”
She sighed. “You’re no fun.”
Together we walked to my door, and when we arrived, I handed her my keys, unsure if my shaking hands would allow me to put the key into the lock or not.
She opened it up and blinked in surprise when she saw my dog.
“Is that a…” She paused.
“Corgi poodle Australian Shepherd mix,” I said as I walked into the room and over Lion’s dancing body. “Would you catch the door? She’s usually really good about peeing outside now, but she’s still a puppy, and I’ve been gone longer than I intended.”
“How do you know what kind of mix she is?” Carmichael asked as she walked away, Lion close on her heels. “And when did you get her?”
“I found her outside the office a couple of weeks ago. And I had one of those dog DNA tests done on her because I was curious what the fuck she was. When I first found her, she had straight hair. Now it’s curly as fuck,” I answered as I shuffled toward the couch.
Before I got there, though, I hesitated. “I need to take a shower. Can you…”
“Listen for you in case you fall?” she asked pleasantly from my back door.
I nodded once. “Yeah, that.”
“I’ll be in your room waiting. Make sure you take some clothes into the bathroom with you. If you need help, scream.” She winked.
I would.
Maybe.
Hopefully I didn’t have to, though.
As I shuffled up the stairs, taking a break on the fourth and the eighth, I thought about how I felt to have her in my house.
It felt… surreal.
; Like it shouldn’t be happening.
Was this my life? Was that all it took to get her here? Me being shot?
Maybe I should straight-up ask her.
Thinking that made me smile as I headed into my room.
Luckily the scrub pants came off a lot easier than they went on, and I was in the shower moments later, washing off the blood and grime from the parking lot.
I washed carefully, keeping my arm elevated and out of the water.
Using one hand to wash your body was tough. Unfortunately, it was my dominant hand that was compromised and that made it just a little bit harder to clean up with my right hand.
Once I was done, I got out and dried off with the towel that I’d dropped onto the floor this morning.
I would have to beg my sister to come over and do laundry when she got back.
I was in desperate need yesterday. By the time she got back I would be on day two of wearing some of my sweats.
It’d cost me a babysitting day or two, but she’d do it without too much complaint.
After finding my one single pair of clean sweatpants, an old pair that fit a little snugly and probably should’ve been tossed when I started to really do CrossFit full time, I headed back downstairs.
No longer wary but bone fucking tired.
I was just plopping down onto the couch, planning to stay there for a while, when the doorbell rang.
I groaned and tensed my abs, ready to get back up, when Carmichael came rushing into the room from the laundry room with Lion close on her heels.
“That’s Chinese food delivery,” she said as she hurried toward the door, a fifty-dollar bill in her hand. “Hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this from your wallet. I don’t have any cash, and that’s all they accept.”
I lifted my hand and waved it forgivingly. “Nope. Use away.”
Chinese food actually sounded heavenly.
I hadn’t had it in quite a long time.
In fact, I had no doubt in my mind that I’d be gaining ten pounds tonight thanks to all the water weight.
It didn’t matter, though.
It wasn’t like I’d be making it to my competition I had planned in a few weekends anyway.
Quit Bein' Ugly Page 6