Page 3 of Hell of a Mess

Two

Her

“Two of her ribs are broken, and her kidney is bruised. Her wrist has a distal radius fracture. I set it properly, and the cast will have to stay on for six weeks. She’ll need physical therapy when it is removed.

” He paused. “Here is what concerns me most. We won’t know until she’s awake how much damage it did.

But she hit her head hard. I did a CT scan, and there was no brain bleed or skull fracture.

Because of her ribs, she will recover best if she stays in this hospital bed for a few days.

It can keep her upper body elevated, making it easier for her to breathe.

Let’s hope she’s right-handed, or she will require help doing everything—from eating to using the restroom. ”

I kept my eyes closed, not alerting those in the room that I was awake.

Mostly because I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten here.

It sounded as if I was in a hospital, but with who?

Why couldn’t I remember? The injuries didn’t sound like they were mine.

I wasn’t in any pain, but I felt heavy. Weighted down and in a bed.

So, it had to be me they were discussing.

Right? The woozy feeling made it hard to concentrate on what the male voices were saying, but I did my best to focus.

Although the more I tried, the less I realized I knew, and panic was creeping in—or trying to at least.

“Damn,” another man muttered. “I hoped we could patch her up and send her on her way.”

A heavy sigh. “No, she needs a week at least before you think of moving her. But even then…” The man hesitated. “I’d hate for her to be released, only to be beaten again. It’s likely she knows who did this to her, as there are other bruises. Older ones. I don’t believe this was the first time.”

“Where?” a third voice asked, and the deep timbre in it made my heart feel fluttery.

Who was that?

I wanted to open my eyes, but I was afraid.

“She’s awake,” the voice I guessed belonged to the doctor said, and then I heard footsteps move closer to me.

Squinting, I tried to open my eyes, but the light was so bright that it was difficult.

“Wait,” he instructed me before the direct beam over my head went dark. “There. That should be better.”

Blinking, I stared up at the older man who was standing over me with kind eyes and concern in his expression. However, he didn’t look like any doctor I’d ever seen. More like a seasoned cowboy.

“Hello there. I’m Dr. Burl.”

So, he was a doctor. Interesting.

I tried to speak, but my throat was too dry. I only nodded my head once.

“Are you in any pain?” he asked.

I shook my head this time, not attempting to say anything.

“Good. The morphine is doing its job. I have you on a drip, and we will keep you medicated so that you get some sleep.”

“Where are her other bruises?” that voice that I enjoyed hearing asked, and my gaze swung over to see who it belonged to.

I held my breath as I took in the sight of him. Had I seen him before? Something was oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Was the pain medicine messing with my memory? The man was beautiful. How could I forget that face?

He was staring at the doctor with a scowl, as if it were the other man’s fault.

“Upper arms, base of neck, and lower back,” he replied.

His jaw worked as his shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.

“She can stay here,” the man I’d heard talking when my eyes were closed said. I hadn’t seen him yet. Maybe I would recognize him. “I’ll bring Jayda down to meet her, and she can see to her needs.”

The beautiful man, whose voice made my stomach flutter, nodded his head once, then turned and walked away without saying anything else. The urge to call him back rose up in my chest, and I almost blurted it out, but stopped myself.

The man to the right of the door cleared his throat, and I shifted my gaze to see him now that he wasn’t blocked from my view. His eyes looked assessing and calculating. He wasn’t happy about something. Was it me? Why? What had I done?

“There has to be someone who will be looking for you,” he said with a slight narrowing of his eyes.

I started to nod and stopped. Scrambling through my thoughts, I tried to remember who would be looking for me. But there was nothing there. It was void. Why? Who? My eyes shot back to the doctor for answers. What was wrong with me? My thoughts were confused.

“Are you married?” the man at the door demanded.

Married? No…I didn’t think so. Was I?

“What is your name?”

Name? I opened my mouth and closed it. My vision blurred as my eyes filled with tears. Oh God. I didn’t know my name. What was my name? Why was I here? How had I gotten hurt?

“Linc,” the doctor or cowboy or whatever he was said in a concerned tone.

I blinked as a tear broke free and rolled down my face. He shook his head, and the grave expression on his face only heightened my escalating panic.

His gaze dropped back to meet mine. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath. You’re safe. You were beaten up, but you’re going to recover,” he told me in a soothing tone that I clung to.

“I am?” I choked out on a sob.

He nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

“I can’t…” I said as my voice cracked, and I searched his face for answers. “Who am I?”

His shoulders dropped, and he let out a heavy sigh. The concern etched between his brow didn’t help me.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “You hit your head, and although there is nothing permanently damaging in the CT scan I did, it seems that you’re suffering from amnesia. But it should be temporary.”

“Amnesia?” the man across the room barked, causing me to jump.

The doctor lifted his gaze up to look at him. “It appears so. I was going to check for a concussion, but this answers my question. Her memory will come back.”

“When?”

“I don’t know that. But it will. Her brain has had trauma, and it needs to recover.”

“How the fuck are we going to know who is looking for her if she can’t tell us who she is?”

The doctor turned to pick something up from the table behind him. “I can do a DNA test. If hers is in a system somewhere, it’ll tell us.”

A glass of water with a straw appeared in front of me. Dr. Burl was holding it close enough so that I could drink from it.

“Small sips,” he told me.

I did as he’d instructed. My throat was so dry that swallowing was hard.

“Do it quick. We need answers,” the man ordered, and the doctor nodded his head.

The sound of his footsteps fading away was a relief. I didn’t like him. He made me nervous.

“Try and rest,” the doctor told me. “Your injuries aren’t life-threatening, but they do need attention and care for you to recover. I’ll be back in the morning to check on things.”

He was leaving too? I was going to be alone…here…

“Where am I?” I asked.

A sympathetic glint in his eyes didn’t help ease me. The room was spacious, but there were no windows. The walls were bare, and other than one lone black leather recliner in the corner, there was no other furniture, except for a narrow table with medical equipment on it.

“You’re safe. That’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid,” he said as he adjusted the bag that my IV was attached to. “Your only concern is to heal.”

I wanted to argue that I had many concerns, and that was not at the top of the list. Who I was happened to be my main concern. Why couldn’t I remember that? How did someone just forget their own name?

“They will send Jayda down here to see to you soon. You’ll like her,” he told me.

Jayda. He was sending another female down here. That gave me some ease, although I wasn’t sure why it mattered. She was a stranger too.

“She’s nice?” I asked, feeling my eyes growing heavy, and things began to fade away into darkness.

“Yes.” His reply sounded as if it were far away.

“She’s been asleep since I got down here.” A feminine voice broke into my dreams.

“Has she moved or made any noises?” It was him. The beautiful man with the blond hair. He was back.

“Whimpered a few times. Whoever the bastard is who did this needs to be taken underground.” The woman sounded angry.

Did she mean dead, as in six feet under?

“I’ll find him,” he replied.

I tensed but kept my eyes closed. Was he planning on killing the person who had beaten me up? Why would he do that? This man didn’t know me. He couldn’t even tell me my name. But I was here. He’d helped me—or someone had helped me. I couldn’t remember. Just like everything else in my life.

“Good,” the woman said with a relieved sigh.

“Try and see what you can get out of her. She may remember who she is when she wakes up.”

“I’m not grilling her with questions. Doc said that wouldn’t be good for her. If she is pressed, it will only cause her stress, and that won’t help her remember.” The female sounded a touch annoyed.

“Yeah, I heard,” he drawled, not sounding convinced.

“Google it. Doc didn’t make that shit up.”

“Just see what you can find out, Jayda. I don’t need a fucking lecture.”

The pull drew me back in, and I couldn’t stay awake long enough to hear any more.

No one was speaking when I woke up this time, but without looking, I knew I wasn’t alone. I could feel the other presence in the room. The stabbing pain in my side was the first time I’d felt anything since arriving here. Wincing, I tried to breathe slowly so that it hurt less.

“Guess the morphine has finally made its way out of your system.”

It was him. The timbre in his voice stirred something inside me that blanketed the rest. It might not numb the pain, but it made it less important.

My eyes opened immediately. I was greeted by the smooth white ceiling. The room wasn’t dark, but the bright light overhead wasn’t on. There was a smaller light near the door that spread throughout the room.

Turning my head to the left, I looked over to see him sitting in the leather chair. He appeared relaxed. His legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. How tall was he? He’d looked several inches taller than the doctor—or was I remembering correctly? That was all so fuzzy.

A book in his lap caught my attention, and I tried to read the cover. He held it up.

No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy. The cover felt…familiar. Had I read that?

“I don’t have much in the way of female reading material, so I’ve been reading you this,” he said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

He’d been reading to me. My chest felt a warmth rush through it as I stared at him, saying nothing.

“It was too damn quiet in here, and you needed to wake up, move around, eat.”

I didn’t want him to leave. Staying silent would likely make him feel unwanted, and that wasn’t the case. I tried to sit up some, and the stabbing pain stopped me.

“OH!” I gasped, gripping the covers tightly with my good hand.

“Easy there, overachiever. I didn’t mean you needed to move right now,” he told me as he stood up, dropping the book onto the chair before closing the space between us. “Here, drink some water,” he suggested and reached to pick up a glass of ice water. The sight of it reminded me how thirsty I was.