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“Mr. Blackwood?” a kind, feminine voice stated, and I turned to find a smiling face I didn’t recognize.
“Hmm?”
“It’s good to finally see you lucid,” she said, moving closer to my bed. “How are you feeling?”
She checked the drip while my mind slowly processed.
Hospital.
Nurse.
Accident.
Bleach.
I grimaced as my stomach churned. Pain radiated through my temple. “I hit my head.” I sounded like I’d downed a whole bottle of vodka by myself.
The nurse smiled, poking around on a bandage over my left ear. “You did—and pretty badly. I haven’t had a chance to clean up the dried blood that well, but now that you’re awake, we’ll get to it, okay?”
Fuzzy—that’s how my thoughts felt. Not…all there. “Where’s Rhett?”
“Was someone in the car with you?” she asked, backing up enough to look me in the face.
I recalled driving. Vomiting.
“No. Did you call him?” I slurred the words.
“I can get in touch with whoever you need me to, sweetie.”
I recited his cell number without difficulty, but exhaustion once more weighed heavy on my eyelids.
“He’s my partner,” I murmured. “I’m tired.”
“You go ahead and rest. I’ll call him and let him know you’re here and that you’re going to be just fine.”
I didn’t feel fine…and there was something else wrong with me, but I couldn’t remember what it was.
Eyes closing, I did as the kind nurse said and stopped thinking before the fact I lay in a hospital freaked me the fuck out.
37
Rhett
I laid on the couch in my office long after I should have gotten up, but I had no energy.
Weak-willed, I’d allowed the storm inside me to wipe my ass out.
The ceiling above me had a slight water stain in the shape of a tearing heart, almost shorn in half right down the middle.
Fitting.
Ash had told me to leave because I’d crossed a line and hurt his angel. Never mind how some of his actions since her arrival had been stabbing my chest with lethal force.
Should have opened your goddamn mouth and told him so, you idiot.
I hated the voice in my head that spoke the truth. There was no one to blame for our circumstances other than myself. If I’d explained to him from the start how his actions had made me feel, shit wouldn’t have gotten out of control.
Yes, he’d done wrong, but I’d only made things worse by ignoring the red flags.