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CHAPTER 7
“You’re worse than my father,”Trinity muttered as Keaton pushed her down the corridor. “You don’t have to do everything.”
She understood she needed to be in a wheelchair. She didn’t have a problem with that. Not one bit. Not only was it hospital policy, but she didn’t have the energy to walk. Her legs couldn’t have carried her very far.
However, Keaton didn’t have to be the pain-in-the-ass boyfriend and practically shove the nice orderly out of the way and do it himself.
Boyfriend.
It was odd to think of him that way. They’d shared a night. One night. And while it had been amazing, and she more than appreciated everything he had done to help—no, save her—that didn’t make him her boyfriend.
Yet he behaved like one, and honestly, she’d been fantasizing about him for far too long.
She glanced up at the man in scrubs strolling alongsidethem, his hospital ID proudly displayed. Keaton had checked it three times. She had done the same thing. Every time someone walked into her hospital room, her heart rate increased, and she nearly had a panic attack when a new nurse came in to take out her IV.
She hated feeling this way. She hated the idea that someone was lurking in the shadows, waiting, watching. The closer she got to the door that opened to the outside of the hospital, the more fear bubbled in her throat. Her chest tightened. Her lungs burned. She’d been frightened before—terrified, actually.
But she hadn’t wanted to jump out of her own skin when Charlie had hit her. She’d been stunned. Temporarily paralyzed. However, as soon as her brain had registered the danger that could’ve been her future if she hadn’t acted, she hadn’t hesitated.
“I know that,” Keaton said. “I want to.”
“But that’s what this nice man here is for,” Trinity said.
“It’s no problem, ma’am.” The orderly smiled and nodded. “I’ve had more than one fine gentleman do this. If it were my wife, I might do exactly the same thing.”
“I’m glad you understand.” Keaton slowed as he neared the door. “I am going to have to pull my truck around, and I don’t like leaving you here alone.”
“She’s not alone.” The orderly rolled up his sleeve and tapped his biceps, showing off a tattoo. “Former Marine. Combat medic.” The man lowered his chin. “Fletcher made sure it was me who walked her out. He was supposed to let you know.”
“I haven’t checked my cell in the last twenty minutes,” Keaton said as he pulled it from his back pocket, fumbling with it.
“We can sit in here or outside. Whatever makes you comfortable, sir,” the orderly said.
“Fletcher sang your praises. Semper Fi.” Keaton stretched out his arm and shook the orderly’s hand. “Sorry, I was harsh.”
The orderly nodded. “Not a problem.”
The sound of the doors in front of her swishing open startled her, and the warm Florida air mixed with the cold air-conditioning made her shiver. She wrapped her good arm around her middle as a silhouette of a tall person shuffled through the opening. She couldn’t see the person’s face—only the hurried body movements as the person rushed into the hospital as if on a mission. They took a couple of long strides toward the information desk to her left.
She hadn’t realized her heart had been beating in the center of her throat until she tried to swallow and failed. Inhaling sharply, she tried to release the lingering horror. Having a healthy dose of fear because someone had tried to kill her twice was normal. She knew that. There would be something wrong with her if she weren’t scared. But this?
It was the worst thing she’d ever experienced.
“Oh my God, Trinity,” a familiar male voice bombarded her ears.
She stiffened.
Fenton was the last person she wanted to see. The last person she wanted to deal with.
“Sweetheart, I’m so glad you’re okay.” He dropped to a knee in front of her wheelchair.
Keaton made a noise that could only be described as a deep, low growl. The two men had met several times, and Keaton hadn’t been impressed. Once, he’d told her that she could do better.
She’d told him to mind his own business. Only, he’d been right.
“What are you doing here?” she managed to choke out.
“Are you kidding me?” Fenton stared at her with wide eyes. “I came as soon as I could manage to leave the dealership. You must’ve been so terrified. Did you get my flowers?” He raised his hand and touched her cheek.