by J. A. Coffey
The other, a red-haired man in green, jumped into the driver seat and started the motor, while the man in blue checked Darius' pupils with a pen light.
"I will be now that you're here." Darius squeezed her hand and placed it on his chest, where he kept it.
The red-head called back, "We'll need to hospitalize him. He had a pretty serious concussion and lost a lot of blood. And," he looked over his shoulder at her, "he stubbornly refused to leave until you got here."
Darius closed his eyes at the rebuttal, but he smiled and said, "Wouldn't be a party without you."
The officer came up to the back door, and it took a second for her to realize who he was. "Jess, you better move your car, or it's going to get towed."
Nothing would tear her away from Darius. Somewhere deep inside, she fanned an ember of anger into a blaze. "William, don't you dare threaten me with that. Now, you tell Tim I need him to drive my car home or I swear to God you're off my party list, from here until forever."
He kicked the ground. "Aw, Jess...."
"Don't you 'aw, Jess' me, Mr. Dillwright. You tell Tim I need him to drive my car back home now or I'll tell my mom- your superior- all about your porn shop escapades."
He reddened. "I was off duty."
Jess squeezed Darius' hand for the coup de grace. "She's having your mom over for dinner tomorrow night."
He looked back at Tim, who smiled and gave her a friendly wink. "Jeremy and his big mouth," she heard Wiliam mutter. He faced her, stern, and said, "You better have rib-eye," as he held out his hand for the key.
She tossed it to him. "Wouldn't have it any other way. See you at Christmas."
As he skulked away, Jess asked the driver, "Can we go now?"
The doors closed and they drove away.
Over two hours had passed before Jess could visit Darius in his hospital room. A fresh bag of fluids now hung over his bed and a clean gown replaced his stained clothes. The blood had been washed away, but now he looked pale. A butterfly bandage covered the split on his eyebrow, and she caught a glimpse of staples in his scalp.
"You okay, there, pal?"
"Jess." She liked how he breathed her name. "Come, sit."
A nurse came in behind her and motioned to the chair. She then fiddled with the fluid bag, checked his stats and his pupil reactions. "Nasty concussion, I fear. Head wounds are prolific bleeders, so he's still a little dehydrated. We added some sedatives to his fluids to make him a little more comfortable. He'll be drowsy and disoriented, but he needs rest right now."
"I'm fine," he complained, but he didn't sound very convincing.
"What happened, anyway?"
He shook his head, then winced. "Can't remember. Just driving home, trying to plan our next date." He attempted a smile. "Next thing I remember was you calling my cell."
The nurse adjusted the monitor on his finger and checked his pulse. To Jess she said, "He'll be staying here tonight. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. That chair reclines into a comfy bed."
Sleep here? In Darius' room? She smiled at the nurse. "Thank you." She sat and touched his arm, and he gently claimed her hand.
"Thanks, Jess. I mean it."
"What were you doing on Lawrence? It's such a back road."
"Going back to my dad's."
"Really?" She frowned. "From where?"
He heaved a breath. "Dojo. Sparring."
She frowned and met the nurse's eyes. "Is he delusional?"
The nurse opened her mouth to answer when Darius squeezed her hand. "No. No delusion. Aikido."
Jess leaned back. "Like karate? Kung fu?"
"More karate than kung fu." He pronounced it kah rah tay.
She felt herself grow more impressed by the minute. He had that long lean body one would expect of a martial artist. "Got bored? Took a shot to the head? Is that how you fell asleep at the wheel?"
He managed a dark look. "Not sleeping. Planning next date. No shot to head. Shoulder." He released her hand and tapped his sore spot. Then his hand plunked down on hers. "Both black belts. Good match."
"You're a black belt?" The surprises never ended.
"Fifth dan."
Jess and the nurse exchanged looks. "What does that mean?"
He tried to grin and grabbed her hand. "Means...Steven Seagal...wins...eventually. Maybe ten minutes."
His triage nurse whirled on him. "You, mister, just had a major concussion. The doctor is going to want to give you an MRI or CAT scan first. And if you are okay enough to leave here in the next few days, you're going to need a few months to recover. That means no sparring, practicing, fighting, anything. You hear?"
His head dropped in sleep.
"Oh, well," said the nurse as she withdrew a needle from his IV port and smiled at Jess. "At least you heard me tell him, right? Don't let him do anything stupid. You know how stubborn men can be. The last thing he needs is another concussion while recovering from this one. That could set him up for brain hemorrhaging or brain swelling. And yeah, that's bad."
The nurse took his vitals again and nodded, then said, "That sedative should last him five or six hours. We called his father to see if he would come down for a blood transfusion. We're low on Darius' blood type, and thought his father may be a match. Do you know why he'd refuse?"
Without even filtering her thoughts Jess blurted out, "Cold, heartless bastard comes to mind." She glanced at Darius, not knowing if he could still hear her, and amended, "But then, I only met him once, many years ago."
"Matches his voice," she whispered, and they shared a secret grin. Jess noticed her name was Marie. She indicated the chair. "Why don't you get some sleep, hon? You look exhausted. We'll monitor him from the nurses' station so you two can rest." She smiled and closed the door behind her.
"Thank you," Jess said, her voice shattering the quiet of the room, but not nearly as much as moving the chair alongside his bed.
*****
He'd never met a guardian angel before, yet somehow he knew one remained at his side. When oblivion threatened to steal him away, a soft breath in his ear or touch on his hand reminded him to stay put. And then of course his mind wanted to place a face on her, and he found long strawberry blonde locks aesthetically pleasing. Big blue eyes. Glasses. He'd always loved her with glasses.
An unexplained force dragged him awake. He looked over and found her, right there, watching him. Love filled him, and he reached for her. "My perfect angel."
She smiled at him, a smile filled with warmth. "You should get hit on the head more often."
"No. Never again." He closed his eyes, but the void waited there for him. His salvation remained in Jess' eyes. "Afraid to sleep."
"Afraid? Why?" she had asked as she leaned those perfect lips closer to his.
It hurt to look at her; she seemed that radiant. "Darkness. Emptiness. Black void. Not just sleep."
That made her ease her hip to his bed to stroke his hair, being mindful of the staples he felt tugging on his scalp. "You have sedatives on board, Darius. They need you to sleep off your concussion. It's a drug-induced sleep. Nothing to fear."
He tried to shake his head, but the tension on his scalp seemed too great. "Not afraid of the dark, Jess. Afraid...of dying. Now that I just found you."
"Oh, sweetie." He heard the smile on her lips. "You're not going to die. Not now, anyway."
He almost smiled in return as he focused on her face in the dimly lit room. "Here." He slowly, painfully, eased away from her to make room on the bed. "Want to hold you."
She paused for a moment. "Well, I guess you aren't about to ravage me."
He moaned a laugh. "Tomorrow." He patted the comforter. "Need my guardian angel tonight."
And as she eased her body along his, separated by layers of blankets, Darius felt as if the clouds themselves had enfolded him in their loving arms.
He woke up hard. Rock hard. He also felt as if a forklift had speared his skull and then run over him. Backwards. His arm had no sensation whatsoever,
and when he managed to look over-what an effort that was- he saw a tousled and rumpled angel asleep on his chest.
He reached over to stroke her cheek, feeling the full agony of Sensei's blow when he moved.
Make that a forklift and two dump trucks.
Yesterday still seemed hazy. Planning a date, then...?
A police officer knocked on the door and stepped into the room. Darius caught his glance at his telltale erection before he had the chance to cover himself by shifting the comforter.
"Sorry to disturb you two lovebirds," he said, "but Mr. Covington, I need to ask you some questions."
"Sure," he groaned, trying to force his brain back into his skull and his numb arm to respond, all without jostling Jess. She moaned softly and blinked up at him. "Sorry, hon. We have a guest." He gathered the blankets to his lap before she noticed his condition.
Yeah, she seemed completely confused as she frowned up at him, the cop, then the room. "Oh, yeah. Hey, how you feeling?"
He took some satisfaction that she probably didn't wake up with strangers all that often.
"Arm," he winced, and Jess sat up and began massaging his limb as electricity zapped through it. He growled with the awakening of sensation as he flexed his fingers.
"William." Jess faced him and finger-combed her hair. "I'm so sorry about what I said yesterday. I was so scared-"
The cop raised a hand to halt her. "Maybe you should be." He faced Darius, note pad and pen poised and ready. "Do you have any recollection of the accident, Mr. Covington?"
"It's Darius. And no. Nothing."
"Nothing at all?"
"No." He looked at Jess and the cop. "Why?"
The officer leaned against the small work table. "We found evidence of another car's paint on yours. Flecks of black on silver. Had your car been in another accident recently?"
"No, sir. I...don't understand." He rubbed his eyes, hating how piercingly bright a summer morning seemed to him now. "Would you mind turning down the lights, please?"
Jess frowned, then got up and twisted the louvered shades closed. "The lights aren't on, Darius." She leaned down to peer at him. "Are you okay? Should I get the nurse?"
"I'll be fine. I'm sure it's from the accident."
She only acted mollified as she sat beside him in the chair, but he knew she'd be flagging down a nurse ASAP.
"Anyway, in the daylight we were able to recreate the crime scene."
"Crime scene?" they both echoed.
He held his note pad out and angled it to get some light from the hallway to read. "The bumper is caved in, consistent with being rammed from behind. We found your taillight shards one point three miles down the road. The scrapes on the side are consistent with being driven off the road." He flicked them a glance, then went back to reading. "Black paint is embedded in a scraping pattern along the side. We also found a piece of your left headlight six-tenths of a mile away from the taillight. Most of the remaining headlight was about one-tenth of a mile south of where we found you." He folded the notepad and stuck it in his pocket. "Skid marks matching your tire spread were found at each impact, showing to us you were driven off the road."
"Darius?" Jess maneuvered beside him to face him, then cupped his cheek. "Why would someone want to run you off the road?"
"I don't know," he moaned, but he grabbed her hand to place a kiss in her palm. "Maybe someone wanted my antiques. Do you have an alibi?"
She gasped at his audacity and pulled back, and he managed a painful smile. "Oh, don't make me laugh. It hurts to laugh."
Jess tossed a dark look to the officer. "William, I was at work until six. My whole staff can vouch for me. Then Jeremy and Rob came over for dinner at six-fifty, where I had spent twenty minutes preparing the meal already. They stayed all night. In fact, Jeremy dialed you," she looked at Darius with a controlled grin, "because you were too busy bleeding to return my call."
A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "Apologies, madam."
"Jess," the cop said in a very placating tone, "I could never implicate you in a crime. I know you too well."
"And my mom would rip you a new one."
"And your mom would rip me a new one."
They shared a grin, and Darius felt left out. "I seem to remember you two know each other, correct?"
The cop looked at Darius. "We grew up together."
"Correction: I babysat him."
"Jess!"
She spared a wicked grin. "I keep a blackmail photo of his skinny little knobby-kneed kid self in case he gets out of line, since I can't threaten to beat him up anymore."
"Assaulting an officer," he said, his tone dark.
"Which is the only reason he became one," she shot back.
"Back to my car." Darius heaved a breath. He really needed the facilities, but would be damned if they saw how wobbly he was right now. "You sound pretty sure it was an offensive attack."
The cop didn't shrug. "What's this about antiques?"
He felt as awkward as Jess acted. "We're...both trying to win an inheritance."
The man cocked a brow as he studied them. "Keep your enemies close, and all that?"
Jess reddened. "It's not like that."
Darius grabbed her hand, wanting to ease her embarrassment. Had he not been on his back, he would have called William out on that comment. "We knew each other as teenagers. Dated ten years ago."
She studied him on his word choice, but to this day, it remained the best date of his life. Even if it only lasted three and a half hours.
"No enemies, Mr. Covington?"
"No," he shook his head, then regretted moving so much. "I have people, contestants, I've beaten, but that was in the ring. Contests. Sports. Not personal. For money, I'm not even worth that much. It's not like anyone's going to get rich off my death. The estate goes to my father."
"College start yet?" Jess asked the cop, who nodded. "Hazing?" she pressed.
To this, he shrugged. "Might be a drunk driver, or an initiation. Still, I'd like to check in on you over the next few days." He pulled out a card. "Here's my number, in case you remember anything. I'll be in touch." He tugged on his hat to Jess as he left the room.
"Oh!" Jess stood up. "I've got to get ready for work." She looked at her rumpled house clothes. "Got to get home and shower first."
He couldn't help it; the thought of her naked with water sluicing over her undid him. "Shower here. I'll wash your back."
"As if." She eyed him.
"Can't blame a man for trying." Man, his erection throbbed.
She paused, unsure. "Should...I check in on you?"
"Call anytime, darling. I'll let you know what my wardens decide."
She smiled. "I'll call you tonight."
"No kiss?" He waggled his brows at her, trying not to flinch at the pain it caused from tugging on his incision.
She blew him one. "You can't have me if you can't catch me."
That almost deflated him. Almost. He really enjoyed her sense of humor, noting she had come into her own over the years of their absence. "Cold and cruel, Jess. Cold and cruel."
"Get well. Practice running."
He studied her as she stood in the open doorway, limned with a soft fluorescent glow from the hall. His heart- and other parts- ached for her. Every moment in her presence was a gift he treasured to the bottom of his soul. He sensed her kindness, her joy, her humor and spirit and truly wanted that in his life from this day forth. He hoped it was really him and not the drugs speaking when he cautioned her: "Careful what you wish for, Jess, for I'm warning you: if I catch you, I'm never letting go."
Chapter Fifteen
Never letting go. Could any woman on the planet be happier to hear such words? The hospital seemed alive with color as she left: red elevators for cardiology, blue tape lines for radiology, yellow for pediatric, cheerful bunches of flowers smiling at her from the gift shop window as she walked by. Even the parking lot had a meadow full of colors lined up in perfect rows.
The hard asphalt never touched her feet. In fact, her car seemed to magically appear before her with no effort.
Never letting go.
The ride home felt as peaceful as canoeing, and Undertow wiggled the cutest little dance for her when she got home. Jeremy snored away in her bed, making her giggle as she rummaged into her drawers and closet for today's ensemble.
She paused, hand over her open panty drawer, ready to choose a pair. Then, she decided to do something impulsive.
She'd go panty-less today.
Sliding closed her drawer woke Jeremy.
"Huh? What? Jess? Oh." He flopped back down. "How's the hubby?"
Even half asleep, the man liked to goad. "Rob? Or do you actually mean Darius?"
"Mr. Huggybear. Isn't that what Faith called him?"
"Darius said...." she hugged herself tight and felt a giant purr ripple through her, "that if he catches me, he's never letting go."
He sat up. "Really? No wonder you're glowing. Good. Perfect. Don't call him."
"Jer." She found some stockings and a slip. "He's in the hospital, for God's sake. That would be mean. Cold and cruel." She smiled as she repeated Darius' words.
Jer rubbed his face, making his words all slurry. "He wants you, and he's unable to get you right now. Don't call him, don't talk to him. The man will be panting like a stray at your porch door the second he gets out." He scratched his chest hair and then stretched loud and long.
She sang, "'You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch.'"
"Hardly." He stood up, and Jess noted how his shorts stuck out. Jeremy noticed her looking and pointed at his crotch. "This isn't for you, Toots. It's just morning wood. All guys get it."
She turned away, embarrassed for getting caught looking. "Well, that's disappointing," she muttered, but he heard.
"Why?"
Eyes averted, she answered, "Because Darius was in the same state this morning. I...kind of hoped it was because of me."
Jeremy scratched his mop of hair. "Were you touching him?"
She shifted to one hip and looked at him. "Yeah. We were cuddled up." She smiled, but reached for her underwear. Happy feeling gone.
"It was you, doll." He walked into her master bathroom and closed the door.