Page 9

Jules

“ Y ou have to take things easy, okay? Nothing more extensive than walking for the next week,” Dr. Lani Hunt tells me as she hands me discharge paperwork. “After that, you can do some light exercise as tolerated.”

“Great, thanks.” Wearing a pair of black joggers and a T-shirt that Riley brought me this morning, I sit on the edge of the hospital bed. I’m beyond ready to leave here, though I’m not thrilled about the next location.

Riley told me that my choices were either calling Odie and having him come get me or staying in his guest room until they figure out who hired the killer in the first place. I’d genuinely considered calling Odie, but all that would do is put my brother smack dab in the middle of the danger.

As it stands now, the killer has left him alone.

“You’re welcome.” Lani glances over at her brother, who’s been brooding in the corner for the last few hours. He’s been reading something on his phone most of the morning, which honestly works fine for me.

I like the quiet. I only wish I had a book to help pass the time. Something I’m hoping to remedy once I leave this place.

“Thanks again,” I tell Lani. Truthfully, she’s been the bright light in all of this. Her bedside manner is spectacular, and even though I hate hospitals, she made the experience not as bad as it could have been.

“Anytime. Though I do hope to only see you outside of the hospital from now on.”

“You and me both,” I reply.

“Great. See you later, Riley.”

“See you,” he says then shoves his phone into his pocket as he stands.

I eye the shoes down near my feet. I’d barely managed to get into these pants by myself, and it was sheer stubbornness at not letting Riley call for his sister that had me crying in the bathroom as I bit back pained groans and got dressed.

The shoes sit there, mocking me. I can do this.

“I’ve got it.” Riley doesn’t wait for my response as he crosses the distance and kneels at my feet. He undoes the laces of one tennis shoe then raises my foot and slides it on before tying the laces.

I’m so caught off guard by his gentle touch that I don’t realize I’m staring at him until he looks up at me through thick, dark lashes that would be the envy of every woman everywhere. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Sorry. Tired.” I let him raise my other foot and slide the shoe onto it, all while I try not to laugh at the ridiculous notion that, in this moment, I feel a lot like Cinderella while the handsome prince slides her shoe on.

But this isn’t some fairy tale where everything works out in the end. This is real life. My life. And I’ll be lucky if I survive long enough to see thirty.

Riley stands. “You ready?”

“More than,” I reply as I grab the plastic bag they gave me of my personal belongings and let him help me into a wheelchair sitting near the door.

Riley sets the footrests down, and I raise my feet to rest them on the metal plates. Then he places a baseball cap on my head. “Keep your head down. It’s morning, so the place is busier than normal.”

“Got it.”

As he wheels me out of the room, I keep my gaze down, trying not to catch the eye of anyone who might recognize me.

“I can help,” a woman says happily then steps forward. Carla is wearing floral scrubs and is one of the only staff members—Dr. Hunt aside—who was privy to the truth of who I was.

She’d helped take care of me for most of my stay and was always beyond kind.

Something I’m really not used to since, the second people learn the truth about who I am and my past, their demeanor typically changes.

They grow cold, distant, and have the fleeting look that they’d rather be anywhere but talking to me.

As she pushes me through the double doors and out toward the entrance, Riley walks beside me, a muscled bodyguard who moves with such smooth grace it would be easy to forget he’s lethal.

A black pickup truck sits under the overhang of the hospital. Riley moves ahead of me and opens the door as the nurse stops wheeling and puts the brakes on. She moves the metal plates.

“I hope you heal quickly,” Carla says with a smile.

“Thanks. Me too.”

Riley helps me out of the chair then takes my bag and heads for the truck as I walk right beside him.

I reach up and grip the handle just inside the door and pull myself up, pain shooting through my side as I do. Every movement is painful, my muscles stiff from two days of doing nothing.

As soon as I’m inside and he shuts the door, I take a deep breath. Then instantly regret it. The inside of his truck smells absolutely amazing. Like mint and leather. A combination that shouldn’t go well together but makes me feel warm from the inside out.

He opens the door and buckles himself in then turns to me. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Fine.”

He doesn’t respond, just turns the truck on and pulls away from the hospital. With every second that passes, every inch of distance, a bit of stress eases away. I’ve spent far too many years in and out of rehab centers, which look an awful lot like hospitals.

Honestly, they might as well be hospitals.

Then there was the incident that landed me in the emergency room and psychiatric ward after—I shake it off. No sense in living in the past. Not when my future is uncertain enough.

The drive to Riley’s family ranch only takes about fifteen minutes, but it might as well be a world all to itself. We make our way up a long gravel drive flanked by blooming magnolia trees and pastures on either side, both with thick, green grass.

A quaint ranch house sits off to the right while two barns stand directly across from it. A woman with her blonde hair in a thick braid is in the center of a round pen, working a horse with sweat glistening on its brown body.

“This is my parents’ house,” Riley says, gesturing toward the house.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s home,” he replies easily, as though everyone has a place to call home.

We continue driving then take a left down a secondary road that leads us through pastures.

“That’s my brother Bradyn’s place.” He points to a home with a wraparound porch and a floral garden right off the front.

We keep driving, and I can’t help but stare out the window. This place is massive. Acres and acres of grassy hills and tree lines that likely lead to more of the same.

A few minutes pass, and then he’s pulling into the drive of a sprawling single-story home.

Light stone siding is paired with dark wood pillars supporting a gorgeous wraparound porch.

Plants hang from the roof of the porch, and pretty hydrangea blooms are dotted in the midst of dark mulch, lined in the flower bed just in front of the home.

A huge tree sits front and center with green grass planted all around the base.

It’s gorgeous. Who wouldn’t want to live here?

“This is it,” he says, turning off the truck.

“It’s really pretty.”

“It’s not an estate, but it’ll do.” His reply snaps me back to reality. This man sees me as a chore, and pretending otherwise is even more dangerous than the man hunting me.

I don’t even respond as I grab my bag and open my door.

Riley jumps out and eats up the distance around the truck in long, easy strides. But by the time he’s there, I’ve already turned and taken a deep breath in preparation for getting out of his truck.

This is going to hurt.

I refuse his offered hand, sliding off of the seat instead. But before my feet hit the ground, I lose my balance and fall forward. “Oh!”

I hit his hard body, and strong arms come around me as the scent of mint and leather assaults my senses. “Are you okay?” He settles me back on my feet.

Taking a step back, I hug my bag and force a smile even though my side feels like it’s on fire. “Fine.”

The worry on his face vanishes, replaced by the mask he’s worn since the moment I met him. “Good. Come on in, and I’ll show you around.” Without waiting to see if I follow, he turns and heads for the door. “Romeo is with my brother right now, but he’ll be here later. I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all. I like dogs when they’re not trying to eat me.”

“He wouldn’t have eaten you,” he replies smoothly. “Just would’ve made sure you didn’t feel the urge to go anywhere.”

“Yeah.”

Riley opens the front door, and I step into a gorgeous living room that somehow manages to appear comfortable and elegant at the same time. A leather sectional angles around a stone fireplace. There’s a TV hanging above the mantel, but it’s the far wall that really holds my attention.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves span from the wall with the fireplace all the way into the dining room. There’s a doorway leading outside right in the middle, but not an inch of shelf space is open.

It’s completely full. Top to bottom.

My book-loving heart skips a beat.

“That’s a lot of books.”

“I like to read. Feel free to borrow one if you get bored. There are more shelves in my bedroom and some tubs in the office.”

“Who says I even enjoy reading? It doesn’t sound like something a spoiled ‘red-carpet princess’ would enjoy.”

He eyes me, brow raised. “It’s written all over your face.

My room and office are back that way.” He gestures toward a hallway off the kitchen.

“Yours is down this way.” Walking in the opposite direction of his room, he crosses the living room and starts down a hallway with three doors.

“That’s the bathroom, this is a second guest room.

And this is your palace, princess.” He pushes open a paneled door that leads into a beautifully decorated bedroom.

A sleigh bed with a dark mahogany headboard and footboard sits against the wall to my left while a matching dresser is centered on the wall across from it. A patterned quilt covers the bed, and a green plant sits on the bedside table.

It’s comfortable. Lovely. And because I know he’s expecting me to turn my nose up at it, I shove all of those happy feelings way down deep. Burying them even past the demons collecting dust in the back of my mind.

“Thanks.” I keep my tone level and move inside then set my bag down on top of the bed. Sunlight pours in from the window flanked with cream-colored curtains.

“Yeah. The entire house is video monitored on the exterior, and I had Tucker set up alerts so I’ll be notified if anyone approaches the perimeter.”

“Tucker?”

“My brother.”

“He your residential security expert?”

“Something like that. Dinner is at six. We’re leaving here at five fifty.”

I turn toward him. “Leaving?”

He nods. “Dinner is at my parents’ house.”

There is no easy way to describe the panic that assaults me. His parents? More people to hate me? To look down their perfect noses at me? “Oh, I don’t know?—”

“I’m telling you now so you have a few hours to come around to the idea.

I’m going, which means you are too. There are spare clothes in the dresser and closet; my sisters-in-law went shopping and picked them out, so if you hate them, it’s their fault, not mine.

You’re more than welcome to air your complaints at dinner tonight. ”

Because I sense this is not up for negotiation, and after over a week of not eating anything but things that come from a vending machine or a hospital cafeteria, I can honestly say I’m starving, I nod. “Fine. I’ll be ready to go by five fifty.”

“Great. See you then.” He turns to leave, shutting the door behind him.

Alone, I turn and survey the room, a smile spreading over my face as I gently run my hands over the quilt.

It’s so soft beneath my hands. Warm. And for the first time since my grandfather was killed, I feel a sense of peace settling over me at the idea of getting a full night’s sleep without the worry of what may come tomorrow hanging over my head.

Even if I am staying in the spare bedroom of a man I seriously cannot stand…but trust with my life.