Page 5

5

LOURDES

‘Styx’

After a night with little to no sleep, the nurse comes in with an armful of things. I see a few towels and a courtesy bath kit, all in a bucket. Damn, I really don’t feel like a sponge bath. I want—no need—a shower. Before I can even ask, she gives me a huge smile.

"Good morning, Lourdes, I’m Charity. Want some good news? Can’t wait for your answer, slowpoke. If you want to, with my help, you can take a shower on a chair. Now, probably won’t be as nice as at home, but this way you can start your day off clean and happy. Then once we get everything back and Doc looks it over, fingers crossed, you’ll get released later today. So you feel up for your first adventure of the day?”

Grinning like an idiot, I nod vigorously at Charity. First, she has me drink a glass of water. Then she helps me swing my legs over the side of the bed and waits to make sure I’m not dizzy. Again, Charity helps me up, then has me put my hands on the table while she grabs the IV pole. With the pole in one hand and me on her other side assisting me, we make our way to the bathroom in the corner of the room. In the shower is a chair, which I’m beyond thankful for. Being careful, Charity helps me remove the hospital gown and sits me on the chair. Charity reaches up, grabbing the showerhead, pulling it down, and then turns the water on. Handing it to me, she asks me to test the water. After a bit of adjustment, she tells me to wet down and if I need help to call her, as she’s going to be changing the linens, or pull the emergency cord.

The warm water running down my body feels so good. I can feel my muscles starting to relax and release. I grab the puff Charity put up, hanging it from the suction cup on the shower wall. Beneath the poof on a shelf is body wash, so I squirt it on the puff and start to scrub, being careful of my stitches and burns on my shoulder. When I’m ready, I call out to Charity so she can help me wash my hair. By the time we finish rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, I’m exhausted and the steam is actually making it hard to breathe. Charity flips on the fan, which is kind of loud, but it does its job by sucking out the steam. With the bathroom door ajar, Charity helps me dry off then carefully wraps my hair in another towel, which is dry. Then with me using the chair for balance, she gets me in a clean gown. Together we make it to the side of the bed and I carefully sit on the edge.

By the time Charity lifts my legs, placing them on the bed under the covers, I’m ready for a nap. Once she combs out my hair, she places another towel under my head. I think I’m asleep the second my head hits the pillow.

I take in a breath and smell something, maybe flowers, but even as fragrant as they smell, I’m way too exhausted to open my eyes. That is until I feel someone’s breath close to my face, right before lips softly touch mine, leaving butterfly kisses on my lips, which are followed with a sweet kiss on my nose. Before I can respond, or even open my eyes, whoever it is is gone. When my eyelids push open, all I am able to see are warm twinkling gray eyes watching my every move. After a few seconds he gives me an adorable smile which, for some reason, I return right back to him. Jeremiah stands up, though his hand grabs mine, squeezing lightly.

“Ready to go, Lourdes? Did they give you your walking papers yet?”

I shake my head while I try to clear my throat.

“Not yet, Jeremiah, from what I was told, the doctor is waiting to get some results in before they’ll sign my release papers. You don’t have to wait around; I’ll just go to my place. Really, nothing for you to worry about, I’m a big girl.”

“Darlin’, there is no way in hell I’m going to let you go home alone. Especially after what your friends found when Danny and Claire stopped there to get some of your things. They saw the front door busted open and your condo ransacked. So it goes without saying, until the police or my people can find out what is going on and why you’re being targeted, unfortunately, you’re stuck with me.”

For one of the first times in my recent memory, someone has been able to literally knock me on my ass. Figuratively, not actually. Watching him watch me, I ask the only question on my mind.

“Someone was in my home? Jeremiah, why would anyone go through all that damn trouble? There is nothing there. I live a very normal and boring life. Why is this happening to me? Does this have to do with you or your companies? I don’t have enemies, so this makes no sense at all.”

Before I can continue with my questions, Nurse Charity walks in, her arms filled with a folder and some papers on a clipboard.

‘Ready to bust out of this depressing place, Chickie? I would be if I was in your shoes, that’s for sure.”

She flashes a smile my way before pulling the rolling table closer to me and moving to raise the bed, so I’m sitting up. Charity gives Jeremiah a quick glance before she looks back to me, one of her eyebrows lifted up. I just nod so she gets that I’m essentially giving her an answer to her unasked question.

“All right, Lourdes, these are your release papers and the instructions on what you need to do now that you’re released. First thing is no driving or operating any machinery until twenty-four to forty-eight hours after you’re released. The reason is your concussion and the pain medication you received overnight. Next, you need to have the stitches removed in fourteen days. If you get worse, come back here, otherwise, follow up with your primary care doc in say… eight to ten days. For the burn on the shoulder keep it clean and dry. Make sure you have someone put the ointment on twice daily. Any questions? Oh, where are you going to be staying once you leave?”

Great, another person to know I’ll be at Jeremiah’s home. When I say that out loud, Charity’s eyes twinkle as she smiles with this cute look on her face. When he sees it, Jeremiah lets out the smile-laugh that instantly has me crossing my legs. As Charity and I continue to talk, Jeremiah doesn’t say a thing or interrupt, just sits patiently, taking in everything my nurse is saying. After a few more minutes, Charity hands me the folder with further instructions. When I ask Charity for my clothes, Jeremiah tells me they’ve been taken care of, as he picks up a travel bag. Wow, that’s some overnight bag—designer—if my eyes are seeing correctly. Charity asks if I need any help getting dressed and I shake my head no. Turning, I look at the bag sitting on the bed. Jeremiah is at the foot of the bed waiting, so I pull the bag closer. When my hands go in, each thing I touch is softer than the last.

First thing I pull out looks like a lounge set. Long, wide-legged bottoms with a zip-up hoodie. I unzip the hoodie to see a kind of camisole inside. The feel relaxes me because it’s so very soft and lightweight. The color is so frigging cool. It changed by how much light you are in. It feels silky but it’s cotton. Very expensive cotton, for sure. I’m staring at the bag when Jeremiah’s voice scares the shit out of me.

“Jesus Christ, you scared me to death, dude. What did you say?”

“Lourdes, all I said was there are undergarments if you want and also some slipper socks and some slippers. I have a coat on the hook behind the door. Do you need to go to the restroom? Then you can get dressed or, if you want, I can give you a hand also.”

My eyes have to be popping out of my head. Is he totally serious right now? Though, looking at him, he seems to be really trying, I’ll give him that. Clearing my throat, I force myself to look into those sexy as hell gray eyes of his.

“Thanks so much, Miah, but I think I can manage. Would you please carry those clothes to the bathroom for me? I’ll try to make my way there. Once done, I’ll get this stuff together and we can leave, I guess.”

He just smiles, carries the clothes to the bathroom, and then takes a seat in the chair in the corner, pulling out his phone. Slowly, I make my way into the bathroom. I take care of business, wash my hands, then sit back down on the toilet. Easiest way I can think of to get these clothes on without face-planting on the floor. Slowly, I open the door and see Jeremiah is still sitting in the corner chair, though his phone is on his thick, football-player thigh, with his head leaning back on the wall, eyes closed. I can’t tell if he’s sleeping or not, so I shuffle my way to the bed and sit on the edge. It feels good to be in normal clothes , I think to myself. I’d never be able to be hospitalized for a long period of time, they’d evict me for sure for my shining personality. NOT. That thought brings a grin to my face as I imagine the hospital administrator walking into the room I’m in, serving me with the eviction paperwork, telling me the nurses have had it and, unless I leave, they are ready to strike. Giggling softly at that thought, I shift so I’m sitting up in the bed, legs straight out. Feeling like someone is watching me, my head immediately goes to the side and I see Jeremiah staring intently at me, something in his eyes I can’t or won’t read. My eyes are captured by his as he roams them down the length of my body before making their way back to my face. When our eyes meet again, he gives me one of those puppy-dog looks, which has my heart flipping over. Going to need to proceed with caution. This man can and has done already more to my soul than any other man who’s ever been in my life. Without a word, he gets up and walks to the bathroom. The door closes softly and I lean my head back and sigh. I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but damn, not sure I have the energy to play this kind of grown-up game. I lead a simple life now, and Jeremiah is on the opposite end of the spectrum with all that goes on in his life: jetting across the world for a meeting or two, openings of new businesses, and dating all those “high-class models” and debutants. That’s why I’m not sure why he’s doing what he is with me. Haven’t really seen him since we hooked up that weekend, though we don’t run in the same circles, thank God. That would definitely suck, though not sure since I’m on my way to his home to stay for, again, I have no idea how long.

Hearing the door, I look in time to see the man of the hour walking out bare chested, a small towel around his neck. That’s when I see the same black leather bag hanging off the bathroom door. He walks toward the bed, putting the black bag on it, and starts to dig in it. After a few seconds he finds a T-shirt and pulls it on over his head, which gives me a clear view of his six —no, maybe—eight-pack. I imagine my tongue following all the grooves and I can feel the heat in my core immediately. Damn, why does it have to be someone like him that has me flustered. Don’t need this complication, but seems like I have no say so.

“Lourdes, you just about ready? I’ll let Charity know and we can make our way home.”

My stomach lurches at his comment. Wait, it isn’t my home but his, but I don’t say a word, just don’t feel like arguing. I glance at him as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and nod. That’s all it takes for him to grab the paperwork on the table and the bag that had clothes and personal items in it. He puts the folder and papers in the side pocket and reaches for his bag. Then he turns with a slight smile on his face.

“Okay, let me call my guy and then we can go. Oh look, your chariot arrives, madam.”

His smile is huge as he goes to hold the door for the nurse’s aide who’s pushing the wheelchair. Well shit, I could have walked out on my own steam, but rules are rules, so I slowly drop into my form of escape and wait until everything is good to go. Wheeling down the hall is a way different feeling when it’s yourself in the wheelchair. Actually, it humbles me a little bit. I’m blessed to have so many people in my corner. I can’t imagine going through this all alone with no one around to worry or care if I live or die. Been there, done that, when I was a kid, and didn’t like that feeling at all.

As we exit the elevator, I can hear some kind of ruckus going on toward the entrance. When we turn, at first thought it was a new circus act for the kids’ department until I recognize some of the guys from my firehouse. What are these idiots doing now? Jeremiah actually growls but says nothing. We continue to make our way to the entrance when a very large man walks in, heading toward us. Before I can say anything, Jeremiah grabs the dude’s arm squeezing. Oh, okay, guess they know each other.

“Boss, you okay? Let’s get both of you in the vehicle, as you know there’s more protection in there than out in the open. Come on, let’s move.”

As the four of us make our way to one of the biggest SUVs I’ve ever seen, I hear the siren first. When I turn my head, I can’t help but let out a small, irritated giggle. Engine 23 takes the turn in the circle and moves up right next to Jeremiah’s vehicle. The big guy just about loses his mind, swearing loudly, as he makes his way to our engine. I see where this is going and, for once, I’m staying out of it. At least for now. As everyone always tells me to pick my battles, I’m trying to right now. I’ll let the big boys figure it out by themselves.