by Rosalie Redd
Sheri glanced at her friend. Dark circles rimmed Olivia’s eyes. “Liv, how’s it going with Ben?”
A brief flinch crossed Olivia’s features. “He left last night. Said he tried to stay for the kids, but just couldn’t—” She bit her clenched fist.
Sheri’s throat tightened and she pulled Olivia into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”
Olivia held on for a moment, her body trembling, but then she stepped away and wiped at her eyes. “Me and the kids, we’ll be fine. At least the new puppy you gave us has provided a welcome distraction.”
Sheri had a soft spot for the downtrodden, strays and orphaned animals. She’d recently nursed a litter of Labradors from the local animal shelter—five yellow, one black. The little black pup had wormed his way into Olivia’s heart and she’d adopted him without a second thought.
“Max is a handful, I’m sure, but I’m glad he’s given you and the kids some of his special puppy love.” Her friend’s troubles tightened the coil in Sheri’s stomach, resurfacing painful memories. Ram’s heroin addiction had turned him into a shell of his former self. At first she’d tried to help, but ultimately, she couldn’t handle his problems and had fled the marriage faster than you could say “sayonara.” She hadn’t heard from him in over a year. He could be dead, but she didn’t believe that. Ram was too mean, too tough.
Olivia sniffled and raised her chin. “I need to start my rounds. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”
“Sure thing.” Sheri’s chest tightened. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing if I didn’t get the job.
Matt, Sheri’s supervisor, strode toward her. He pushed against the bridge of his glasses, and gave her a quick smile. “Sheri, got a new arrival, came in a few minutes ago. His name’s Michael Colton, car accident victim. Seems he was texting while driving…room nine.” Matt nodded and pointed to Mrs. Alton’s room. “I’ll be in there for a few minutes. Can you handle the new guy?”
Sheri smiled. Matt had a way of cheering up the saddest residents, and right now, Mrs. Alton needed his special brand of care. “Sure, Matt, I got it covered.”
She turned away from the nurses’ station and headed down the hall. Her rubber-soled shoes skated across the highly polished linoleum without a sound. As she entered room nine, she got a good look at her new patient.
In his mid-thirties, the man on the bed seemed gaunt and pale. A few lacerations marred the puffy skin around his mouth. Full, dark lashes caressed his cheeks. A fiberglass cast protruded from beneath the covers, his toes visible at the end. Her breath caught in her throat. The extent of his injuries was more than she’d expected. He was lucky to have survived the car accident.
She picked up the electronic chart from the foot of his bed and scanned her new patient’s history. Michael Colton—broken tibia, fractured knee, bruised kidneys, three cracked ribs, numerous lacerations, and to top it off, a broken jaw. No next of kin. Poor guy. After his stint in the hospital, he’d been sent here to start his rehab.
She put on her best smile and gently touched her patient’s arm. “Hi Michael, my name’s Sheri. Welcome to Columbia Rehab Center. I’m going to take good care of you while you’re here.”
He roused enough to look at her. His eyes widened, and he studied her with an intense gaze. A small, content smile formed on the good side of his lip.
Something in her stomach fluttered. Reflexively, she took a step back. He’d reacted as if he knew her, but she’d never seen him before in her life. A strange chill ran over her arms.
Ow! The pungent tang of blood filled her mouth. She’d bitten the inside of her cheek. Dammit, that meant she’d bite it again twice more. At least that’s what Mom always used to say.
Her chest constricted. She missed her mother’s affection, love, and support. Now that she was gone, Sheri had no one in her life. Her father had left the family when she was nine. As a child, she’d blamed herself for his departure. Even now the memory of his cutting words beat on her psyche, I can’t deal with that brat, stirring the old guilt buried in her heart. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
“I need to check your bandages and go over your vitals, okay?” She moved to the side of the bed.
He gave her a slow nod.
She pulled back the sheet. A large bruise bloomed from his lower rib cage, covering a good portion of his chest. A wave of compassion toward him caused her throat to tighten. After checking his blood pressure and bandages, she focused on his pelvis. His catheter bag was clear and didn’t need to be emptied yet. She tugged the sheet over his chest and glanced at him.
“Ahh…mmm…mu….” Michael focused on the pitcher of water on the side table.
“Are you thirsty?” She gripped the carafe and filled the plastic glass. The straw swirled in the water. She placed the container back on the table, and her arm grazed the end of the straw. It flipped into the air, end over end, like a bizarre pixie stick and landed on the floor. “Oh, shoot. Let me see if there’s another one in the drawer.”
His gaze tracked her as she rounded to the other side of his bed. His muffled cries increased.
There was something intense and personal in his look. Those dark brown eyes of his, like pools of dirty oil, made her cringe, and a shiver of dread ran down her back. Why did he study her so?
She picked at the edge of her thumbnail. The skin was raw and tender to the touch. Such was her nervous habit. She hated her hands. Big as an average man’s, there was nothing dainty about them, but they were just an extension of her large body. At least she was strong enough to move most of the patients when needed.
She shook her head and resumed her search for a straw. The last drawer on the right, the one closest to the window contained a small stack of straws individually wrapped in plastic.
“Ah, here we go.” She gripped a green one, and pushed her hip against the drawer. The hydraulics gave a slight sigh as the drawer closed at its own pace. With a nervousness she didn’t understand, she twirled the straw between her fingers, flattening the end.
She returned to his bedside. His gaze still bore into her, but a faint smile tugged at his lip. She rolled her shoulders to shake away her earlier uncertainty. He was a man in need of her assistance, and help him she would.
“Okay, Michael, you want to give the straw a whirl? Let’s see if we can get this to work, shall we?” The plastic crackled as she ripped off the wrapper. She plunged the end of the straw into the water and picked up the glass.
He glanced from her eyes to the plastic cup and back again. A slight moan escaped him.
She leaned forward, one hand holding the glass, the other bending the straw. With care, she placed it against the edge of his lip. “Here you go.”
His tongue snaked out of his mouth, touching the end. She pushed the small tube further between his lips.
“Go ahead, see if you can take a drink.”
Pressure constricted the straw and water passed along the tube, cooling the skin on her fingers. A drop of water spilled down his chin.
“Oops. Let me get that for you.” She placed the cup back on the small side table and grabbed a tissue. The sound of the thin paper easing from the box was loud in the quiet room. She dabbed at his chin, wiping the spilled liquid.
He whimpered and his eyes dilated. Had she hurt him?
She pulled back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He blinked, and shook his head. Garbled sounds emerged from his mouth and he fisted his blanket in his good hand.
“It’s okay, Michael. You’ll be well taken care of here. We’ll have you chatting up the nurses in no time.” She winked at him. “I have to round up some things for your room. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
His brows furrowed, and the edge of his lip pulled into a thin line.
With a firm squeeze, she patted him on the arm and her fingers prickled from the contact. She turned away from him, and she swore his eyes bore into her back. Blood pounded at her temple. She didn’t know this guy from Ada
m, yet she couldn’t shake the strange sense of foreboding that crested over her.
CHAPTER 3
Sheri tossed her keys into the old plastic ashtray. The faded “Eat at Sam’s” lettering caught her attention. Why today? The ashtray was left over from a time in her life she’d like to forget, a time when she’d met and fallen in love with a monster. A chill ran over her arms. I should toss that thing. But as much as she despised Ram’s self-destructive nature, he’d had a good side, too.
Soft chimes from the cuckoo clock filled the air, and she waited for the bird to chirp. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Wow, she’d worked an extra-long shift. Michael, today’s new arrival had taken longer to settle than she’d anticipated, and as much as she tried, she couldn’t forget the way his gaze had bothered her.
The flap of Cooper’s doggie door slapped against the frame. Her German shepherd raced from the kitchen, his bright eyes shining in the light. With his legs spread wide, he barked.
“Hi Coop. What’s got you all in a frenzy? Did you see another squirrel?” She scratched behind his ears, but his insistent yelps echoed around the room. Coop was an ex-police dog, and a few months ago his human partner died in a car accident, pushing Cooper into an early retirement. Unable to resist her penchant for strays, she’d taken him in. “C’mon Coop. Settle down.”
She glanced into her living room. A sock lay against the foot of her couch, nestled next to one of her running shoes. Her latest paranormal romance, Blood, Breath, and Desire, peeked from between her blue pajama pants draped across the cushions. The urge to grab them, put them on, and snuggle up on the comfy couch with her book, called to her. She let out a sigh and peered through the window into her backyard.
Blades of grass blew in synchronization with the wind, as if taunting her. The rain over the past few days had provided an excellent excuse, and more was in the forecast. You should mow the lawn while you can. Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind. She slumped, her head falling in mock surrender.
Not bothering to remove her coat, she unlocked the back door and stepped onto the deck. Coop raced between her legs, tangling her feet. She gripped the railing, catching herself before she fell. “Dang it, Coop.”
Her companion ran across the lawn and faced the shed. His barks became more insistent, wracking his body with each woof.
The pine trees at the edge of her property cast long shadows onto the lawn. Their tips seemed like sharp claws, and goosebumps rose along her arms. She picked at her fingernail, ripping into her cuticle.
“Ow.” A drop of blood formed along the edge, following the line of her nail. She wiped her hand against her scrubs and looked into the darkening sky.
With a forced lilt in her voice, she chuckled and stepped off the deck. “I’ll bet that poor squirrel hid in there to get away from you. Didn’t it?”
The cool grass tickled the inside of her ankle, right above the sock line. She reached the small building and stilled. Imprinted on the door were several dark smudges, like blackened fingerprints. She hadn’t left those marks. Her mouth went dry and the tender spot on the inside of her cheek ached.
Coop’s persistent barks added fuel to her rapid pulse. She gave him a quick pet, as much to calm herself as to quiet him. “Shh, Coop.”
He whined, his body quivering with energy.
With a tentative grasp, she opened the door. A soft squeak eased from the rusty hinge.
Darkness filled the small room except for the soft shaft of light she’d let in through the opening. Her red lawnmower stood out like a beacon. All was quiet.
A nervous chuckle bubbled from her lips. “See, Coop, no problem—”
Coop pushed past her, and a low growl eased from him. In all the time she’d had him, he’d never reacted this way before. She gripped his collar, holding him in place.
Thump.
Her heart skipped a beat before revving into overdrive. Adrenaline surged through her veins, her face tingling from the rush of blood. The urge to flee overwhelmed her, and the muscles in her legs and arms tensed.
“Ahhhh…” a distinctive male voice eased from the gloom.
Coop lunged, yanking against her grip. His barks continued.
“Quiet, Coop!” Her companion hushed, but he strained against her hold.
A dark form slumped against the far wall.
She inhaled and took a step back.
The man groaned louder.
“Who are you? What are you doing in my shed?”
The only sounds, his labored breaths and her own heartbeat.
She emboldened her tone with as much confidence as she could. “You’re trespassing. I’m calling the police.”
“No…don’t.” His words were short, strained, yet the tenor of his voice weaseled its way into the deepest recesses of her soul. The sensation warmed her insides. She held her breath.
He moaned again. His dark form moved.
Her medical training kicked in and she had the urge to rush to his side and help him, but she remained wary. “Are you injured? Should I call an ambulance?”
“Is it dark outside?” His strained speech carried across the small space.
A strange desire to hear him speak again washed over her. She fisted her hand. “What difference does it make if it’s dark outside? If you’re injured, you need help.”
“Please, tell me…is it,” a quick intake of breath, “…dark yet?”
The cultured way he spoke made her still. She’d never heard his accent before. Sweat broke out on the back of her neck, dampening her collar. He seemed in pain, but she wasn’t sure. Her curiosity warred with her fear, and she wavered between barricading herself in her house with Coop and rushing to aid him. Instead, she remained fixed in place.
“It’s dusk,” she choked out, her throat tightening from her confusion.
He leaned his head against the wall. She couldn’t see his features, but from his outline, she could tell he was a large man. “Don’t…fear me. I’ll leave…soon…dark.” His words washed over her again, stroking her insides.
With a quick move, he stood. A stifled groan eased from his lips, and he rested his shoulder against the wall.
She took a step back. It took all of her inner strength not to run.
Coop growled.
Something wet dripped onto the wooden floor, the rhythmic splashes an eerie omen.
“Craya.” He tipped over, his body sliding down the wall until he landed on the floor.
“Stay, Coop.” Without a second thought, she raced to his side.
This close, the dim light was enough to see his features. Rough stubble on his chiseled jaw accentuated his luscious lips and broad nose, but what caught her attention was the intensity in his eyes. His gaze swept across her features, reading her, assessing her…devouring her. Warmth spread through her and she had the sudden urge to curl up to him, find out if his lips were as delectable as they appeared. Her cheeks heated, and she shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Blood stained his jacket, or what was left of it. Tattered and torn, the ragged material clung from his wide shoulders. His narrow hips led to muscular legs. He wore an odd pair of trousers that looked handmade.
With a quick tilt of his head, he glanced at her. “Don’t…touch me.”
Her training kicked in and her mother nurse side emerged. “You’re injured and need help. I’m a nurse. Let me assess you.”
His gaze narrowed, intensely focusing on her.
Her heart skipped a beat, but not from fear.
He tried to stand again, but failed and gripped his chest with his free hand. “I have to…leave.”
“The only way you’re going anywhere is in an ambulance. Let me get my phone.” She turned to go, needing to get help on the way as soon as possible.
He gripped her arm, stopping her flight.
Heat and something more sensual and powerful flowed between them.
“No!” The word was a low command.
Despite knowing nothing about this m
an, her body responded to his order, her nipples peaking beneath her shirt. Her mind raced. Why did she react to him this way?
She glanced from his face to his hand and back again. He released her, and fell forward, his palm slapping against the wooden floor. “I’m s…sorry. No infirmary.”
Infirmary? That’s an odd word. She blinked. “You need medical attention. A hospital is where you belong—”
She stilled. Blood drained from her face. What if he’s a criminal?
Coop rubbed against her leg. His chest rumbled.
The man’s nostrils flared, and his intense gaze locked onto hers. “Don’t fear. I’m not a danger to you.”
She took a step back, toward the exit. “Are you running from the law?”
A deprecating chuckle eased from his throat then was cut short. As he inhaled, his lungs wheezed. “Not in the way you think.”
“But you are running.”
“I…I need to go.” He rose once again, but couldn’t maintain his balance.
She caught him before he fell. Even with her big bone structure, his weight was almost more than she could bear. “You’re not going anywhere in this condition. You’re coming inside with me, so I can take a look at you. Then, we’ll talk about an ambulance. Okay?”
His nod was all the confirmation she needed.
CHAPTER 4
Ram woke to a blinding white light. The glare pierced his brain, stabbing him like a sharp knife. All he could discern was the radiance around him. Maybe he was on the planet Lemuria, on the character board. All dead warriors in the game went there. Then again, maybe not. Unease rippled through his senses.
“You failed me, but transporting you to the character board is far too easy a death.” Zedron’s low, menacing tone resonated deep into Ram’s mind. His god wasn’t happy, and that couldn’t be good for Ram.
As Zedron’s Gossum leader, it was Ram’s responsibility to defeat Noeh, the Stiyaha king. Unfortunately for Ram, that didn’t happen. Instead, he’d been the one to die. If he’d had a voice, he would’ve whimpered.