Page 86 of Reckless Woman
“What…?”
“That’s a surgical drain, Anna,” she explains patiently. “It helps to remove fluid from your wounds.”
A montage of images flit through my mind.
Sidewalk.
Bullets.
Joseph.
Unmasked.
“Pain, Anna,” urges Joseph. He knows I can smell his murder because he’s retreated back to the foot of the bed.
“Eight…”
Something that feels like a remote control is slipped into my hand. “This is for extra pain relief when required.”
I press it a couple of times right away.
“May I have a word, Mr. Grayson?” I hear the nurse say as she glides toward the door.
I’ve already slipped back into my original darkness before their conversation begins.
* * *
There’sa big secret in this room, and no one wants to share it.
It’s making me feel like I’m back in Fifth Grade when everyone got invited to Jessie Rutgers’ party, except me. Eve was such a kick-ass friend that she turned down her invitation on principal, and then we spent the whole afternoon watching old eighties movies at the local theater and throwing popcorn at Eve’s brother who was trying to lick face with his girlfriend for two hours straight.
I remember how it felt though, and despite Eve and I laughing like hyenas and eating way too much junk food that day, there was still a constant ache of hurt and rejection in the pit of my stomach.
I’ve had the same ache since I woke up five days ago.
In that time, Joseph hasn’t left my side. He’s barely slept or eaten. He looks like shit, but his version of shit is a hell of a lot hotter than anyone else’s. He’s my dissolute cowboy in dirty blue jeans and a crumpled navy button-down, and I’m relying on his cool confidence that I’m going to be okay, just as much as I am on the various drips I’m hooked up to.
When I fret about the cops finding and arresting us, he’s quick to reassure me that I’ve been moved to a private hospital in North Carolina, and that extra measures have been put in place to make us untraceable. I have a sneaking suspicion I’m only fixating on it to stop myself thinking about the “big secret”.
At first, I was so weak I could barely raise my head from the pillow. The nurses had to haul me out of bed every day in a bid to make me stronger, but with so many wires and tubes coming out of me it was like climbing to the Base Camp of Mount Everest. Five minutes later, all I wanted to do was start the return trip and sleep for the next eight hours.
By the sixth day, I’m making progress. I can actually sit up by myself, and I’m getting cocky about it
“I’m thirsty,” I announce, reaching for the water on my nightstand.
Joseph moves quicker, jogging it in his haste and spilling cold water all over the bed.
“Fuck’s sake!”
“Maybe you should stick to putting people in a hospital, rather than nursing them out of it,” I say dryly, trying on a little black humor for size.
“I don’t put people in a hospital, I send them straight to the morgue.” He shoots me a look as he mops up the mess. “Health insurance companies fucking love me.”
“But not the life insurance ones.”
The band of fire across my middle is more like a stripe of dull pain now. Except for the ache in the pit of my stomach…that never goes away.
“Will I ever get out of this hospital?” I hate how fragile I sound.