Page 33

Mindy

They weren’t kidding when they said I wouldn’t want to move much. Even with happy pills to take the edge off, moving around is only for essential tasks like going to the bathroom. I’ve given up showering or shaving. No one cares if I stink or have more hair than a dog. Well, except my mother would care. She’s the one who told me at eight that I was hairy and proceeded to show me how to shave.

If movement wasn’t literally impossible, it would kind of feel freeing not to do it.

For a couple of days.

I might go out of my mind. Literally.

It turns out I’m not a television person. And watching movies alone is…just sad.

There are only so many hours in the day that I can sleep. What happened to the dreams of watching television, sleeping, and eating bonbons? They died when Adonis beat me up.

There’s a knock on my private room in the medical department. I haven’t seen anything but this room since I arrived.

“Come in.” Everyone has been so thoughtful. They even turned my bed around so that I could see people when they came in.

“Hey.”

“I know you.” Where do I remember him from?

“That’s because I was the guard who carried you in.”

“You.” What do I say to a man who saw me at my worst? Mom doesn’t have any guidance on that. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you mind if I visit with you for a while?” He gestures to the chair next to my bed.

And distract me from the dismal television, not at all. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

“My name is Kyle.”

“Mindy.” I try to hold out a hand, but almost tip over. Banging even my own weight onto my ribs wouldn’t be a good thing.

“There’s no need for formalities.”

What do I talk about with a complete stranger? “So you work here in security?”

“Once in a while, when I have time, I volunteer here. Mostly, I work in private security.”

Private security? “You mean like following rich people around and yelling at paparazzi?”

He smiles. “Something like that. They mentioned you don’t enjoy watching television. There’s a special exhibition in the Urbium Art Museum this month. Would you like to view it with me?”

Art! “I’d love that. I planned to attend it in person.” If I could find a few hours on one of the free Saturdays.

He puts it on the television that the doctors set up for me. And high-resolution images pop up onto the screen.

“It’s almost like we’re there.”

“But there’s nothing quite the same as being in the room.” Kyle smiles.

“Agree. There you can feel the life of each piece of work. Well, most of them. I don’t get some of this Postmodernism Art.”

“Me either. The squiggly lines representing pain or joy—” He shakes his head. “—They just look like squiggly lines to me.”

“Exactly.”

We watch the exhibit, chatting like we’re old friends.

When it comes to an end two hours later, I want to beg him to start it all over again. “Thank you, this was amazing.”

“I had fun.” His eyes cloud over. “Can we talk?”

“It’s never good when someone around here wants to talk to me.”

Kyle chuckles. “This one won’t be too bad. I’ve been working here almost since I got out of the military. I’ve seen women come and go. The ones with the best outcomes let people in to help them. Lying here alone isn’t good for you. So what I’m going to do is share some of mine with you.”

Huh?

“They’re a little rough around the edges and most of them couldn’t tell a Monte from a Degas, but you couldn’t find a better bunch.”

He’s going to share his friends with me. Tears eek out of my eyes.

“Now, don’t go crying. Nothing scares a guy more than tears.”

I carefully brush them away. “You don’t seem scared.”

His lips tip up to the side. “I’m shaking in my boots over here. I’m just better at hiding it. Plus, I know where to get a bunch more art exhibits like the one we watched today.”

“Really?”

“Sure do.”

I look down at the pillows in front of me. “Friends…I have some of them. Some really good ones.”

“You do?”

I nod. “It’s just…They’d never let something like this happen to them. They’re so strong.”

“And you feel weak,” He finishes the thought for me. “But you’ve got it all wrong. The woman in front of me is a warrior. We’ve had women show up with all sorts of bumps, bruises, and breaks. Like you, they fought to get away. They fought to survive. You need to keep fighting, but this time with an army at your side. No man stands alone in a war.”

“Are you trying to make me cry?”

He shrugs. “That might be a possibility.”

“I’ll call them. But if you’re stuck with a half-dozen crying women, it’s not my fault.”

“That’s a chance I’ll have to take.” Kyle moves the phone closer to my hand and stands up. “See you later, Mindy.”

That man is impressive. Mom could take lessons on manipulation from him.

Before I can collapse into a ball of tears with the Spinsters Club, I need to call Dahlia and see how much my life has fallen apart.

She answers on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Mindy.”

“You sound terrible. Adonis said you were out sick, but he didn’t tell us you’re that bad. Can I do anything? Bring you soup? Some trashy magazines to go through?”

Do I tell her all about it? “Did you tell Maverick about the kiss?” That was a nosy question, but I couldn’t seem to hold myself back.

“No. Maverick wouldn’t have understood that it was just a stupid, drunk misunderstanding. He sees things rather harshly. It was better if I didn’t tell him,” Dahlia says.

That means I just might be able to keep my job. Adonis didn’t say anything at all. “How are you doing with all that?”

“It’s weird. I should have been terrified. But all I could think was, this guy is an idiot. I knew you’d be out in a minute, and it wouldn’t go anywhere. If drinking makes him do that, Adonis should really give it up completely.”

“Drinking doesn’t change a man. It lowers their inhibitions and allows them to be who they really are inside. Whereas they can pretend to be someone else when they’re sober.” Mom used to get every guy she dated drunk on purpose to see who they really were inside. It was part of her interview process.

Violent drunks were discarded. If only she did that with the guys’ kids, too.

“Oh.”

Adonis is too skilled at pretending to be a good guy. “Be careful around him.”

“Yeah. I will be. But what about you? You’re living with him?”

Lie, but don’t lie. “I’m staying with some friends until I feel better.”

“Good. You should probably think about moving out.”

When I make this next call, it’s not going to be an option. “Yeah. I think I’ll move.”

“If you need any help, Maverick and I would be happy to help.”

Walking back into the apartment with Maverick by my side would definitely take the fear away. What if it was Maddox at my side?

Don’t dream impossible things. “I need to rest. Talk to you later.”

“Feel better.” She clicks off.

That went better than I expected.

Now all I need to do is figure out who to call.

Leonie! She’ll rally the troops without too much drama.

I dial her number.

“What?” Leonie sounds tired.

“It’s Mindy.”

“What’s wrong?”

How do I explain? Leonie is a cop. Maybe she’ll know about this place. “I’m at The Nest.”

There’s a long pause on the other side. “We’re on our way.”