Page 1 of Secret Guardian (Fated Mates Collection #4)

ONE

“She came in through the emergency room last night. She was a goner. I honestly don’t know how they got her back.”

The words from the doctor break my heart. Dr. King is the best of the best, but she tells it like it is. I continue administering the patient’s morning medications as the doctor finishes her evaluation, making voice notes in a tiny recorder. She nods to me.

“I’ll be back to speak to the family after rounds. Please page me immediately if there are any…changes.” She looks over at the hospital bed with sympathy before stepping out into the hall of the ICU.

“I’m just going to flush your IV before giving you your medications, Mrs. Miller,” I explain cheerfully as I rip open a new syringe.

I always talk to my patients as if they’re listening, even if they’re asleep or medicated.

I believe they can hear me and treating them as such can only have a positive impact.

I’ve always had the urge to take care of others, and the aunt who raised me often joked that it was in my blood. My mom was a nurse as well, so Aunt Renee might have had a point.

I finish up the IV meds and gather my trash before tossing it into the can next to the monitor. I squeeze my patient’s hand for a moment. “I’m going to step outside and sit at my desk to finish up some charting, but if you need me, I’ll be right in.”

She continues sleeping, the monitors beeping normally around her, and I step outside, my heart aching. Because while I love taking care of people, it’s devastating that not everyone can be saved.

By the end of my twelve-hour shift, my feet are practically numb.

It’s all I can do to make my way to the elevator and down to the lobby.

As I step out into the evening air, the sun halfway setting over the horizon, I appreciate the beauty of the Appalachian Mountains all around us.

Something about the ridges displayed against the sky always pulls at my heart.

There’s a thumping in my veins. Home. Home. Home .

Before my parents passed away when I was thirteen, we spent every weekend hiking trails and searching for waterfalls. It’s just not the same without them, though. And Aunt Renee’s still a city girl at heart.

“Darian!” a voice calls out, interrupting my reverie, and I open my eyes, turning to see my favorite coffee cart set up to my left. My spirits are instantly lifted, both by the sight of the coffee cart and of my aunt.

“I didn’t know you’d be set up today.” I flash Renee a smile as she whips out her prepped iced coffee to prepare my favorite drink.

“I wasn’t supposed to be, but the chief of staff seemed to think everyone could use a pick-me-up. Worked out for me. I’d rather be doing this than anything else.” She tops my drink with whipped cream.

Her remark tugs at my heart. The woman uprooted her whole life in New York to come back to Northeast Tennessee and take care of me, rather than make me move across the country at thirteen.

And she won’t take a dime of money from me.

She’s not poor by any means, but my parents didn’t leave us with anything, so she’s always had to work hard to support us.

I knew from the beginning that I had to do well in school and get a scholarship, so I did. Now I do pretty well on my own, but she won’t accept any help from me. Either way, it’s really cool to see her living her dream of being a badass business owner.

“Oh my god, this is heaven.” I close my eyes at the first sip of sweet, rich coffee touching my tongue. “Absolutely perfect.”

“How was your day?” She rips off a paper towel to dry her hands with before leaning on the counter, giving me her full attention.

“It wasn’t bad. Just so busy.” The image of my patient, still unconscious, flashes in my mind, but I push it away. “Yours?”

“I did some laundry. That’s about as exciting as it gets for me and Tiger.”

The mention of her kitten makes me smile. “So, he’s adjusting okay?”

“Pretty much. Although, now that he’s around, there are more strays everywhere. I’m not sure what’s happened.”

“They probably smell him.” I slurp down the last of my drink before tossing the cup into the trash can. “We always had a few strays that would come and go. You know, the one I call Old Man has been hanging out on my porch.”

“You were always his favorite.” Her lips turn down in a frown. “Oh, shit. I forgot to fill up Tiger’s food. Would you mind going by there to do that? I’m still not accustomed to having a roommate again.” She chuckles.

“Yeah, no problem. Even though it’s so far away,” I tease. “See you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too. Be careful.”

“I will.” I wave over my shoulder at her as I head to my car.

It’s an ongoing joke that we live so far away from each other because we live in the same apartment complex.

I moved out halfway through nursing school, but it was more for her than me.

She would never have asked me to leave, but I thought she deserved her space, and honestly, we had both been in the dating pool awhile.

I didn’t want to see my aunt doing the walk of shame, and I’m sure she felt the same.

I drive home in a fog, my mind still reeling from the day’s work, second-guessing every choice I made.

What if I could have done something differently to help my patient?

Thankfully, it’s only a fifteen-minute drive, and as I pull into a parking spot, I turn my mind off.

I imagine there’s a little switch and flick it off, ready to give my mind and body a much-needed rest.

I fumble for my keys at Renee’s door, cursing her for not leaving her porch light on. When I’m finally inside, Tiger greets me with a feisty hiss until I switch on the light. Then he’s a blur of orange, racing around my feet.

“Hey, little guy.” I reach down to scratch his ears. “I know. Can you believe she left you to starve? C’mon, I’ll take care of it.”

He follows me to the kitchen as if he understands everything I’m saying. Who knows, maybe he does. The clinking of the food as it fills his automatic feeder sends Tiger into a tizzy, and he gobbles it up like he hasn’t eaten in days. “So dramatic, aren’t you?”

His water is still full, so I leave that alone.

“She’ll be home in a little while, okay, buddy?

” I give him one last scratch. I turn on my heel, the moonlight shining into the room from Renee’s patio door.

“Of course she left her curtain open again,” I mutter.

I’ve always gotten onto her because she’s oblivious about her safety.

It’s something I’m always cautious about, but she didn’t live through what I did.

I stare out into the night, anxiety building inside me.

The clouds float over to cover the moon and everything is dark, but for some reason I ache to keep staring into the nothingness.

As the clouds move again, I sigh, reaching up to pull the curtain closed, but then there’s a loud thump.

I drop my arm, frozen in fear as a man slides down the door before crumpling onto the patio.

My instincts to save him kick in, and I throw the door open, the metallic scent of blood immediately filling my nostrils. After stepping over the man, I drop to my knees at his side to survey the situation. My hands hover over him, hesitating for only a moment before diving in.

When my skin touches his wrist, an electric shock jolts my fingertips and snakes throughout my body.

Must be the adrenaline. But relief floods my system at the reassuring thump.

He has a pulse, thundering under my fingertip like a drum.

His torso is sweaty, his shirt sticking to him, but that’s not where the blood is.

My hands continue their investigation, and there it is.

The rip in his pants is right below his hip bones.

The blood coating his jeans has turned them dark.

It’s not pouring from the wound, though, which is a good sign.

I curse Renee again for not leaving her porch lights on, because if the motion detector had kicked in, I’d be able to see better.

As it is, I’m afraid to move him…and after feeling his taut muscles and stout body, I’m not sure I could.

I’m pretty strong, but this man is enormous.

“Wait right here.” I squeeze his arm. “I’m going to grab supplies and turn on the light. I’ll be right back.”

The man groans in response—a good sign. At least he’s awake.

I step over him and run through Renee’s apartment to my old bathroom.

Thankfully, she’s left everything the way we had it, and I grab the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and a few of the old cleaning rags from underneath the sink.

After flicking on the patio light, I’m back by his side, my supplies open beside me as my fingers twitch over the zipper of his pants.

“I’m going to unzip your pants so I can clean your wound, okay?”

He groans again, which I take to mean he understands.

After a moment of struggling, I have the button and zipper open.

I grab each side tightly and wrestle the pants down just enough to uncover the wound.

It’s nasty, but it’s no longer bleeding.

Working quickly, I clean the jagged cut.

It had to be a knife, a serrated blade of some sort.

Of course, if this man makes a habit of dropping in on people’s patios in the middle of the night, maybe that’s how he got stabbed.

Oh my god, what if I’m saving a creep? Or a criminal? The thought flashes across my mind, but I push the fear aside because it doesn’t matter. I have to save everyone.

When the wound is clean, I spray it with disinfectant.

As he reacts to the sting, his clothing twists, and to my utter shock, I catch a glimpse of his dick, hard and throbbing and protruding from the front of his underwear.

My thighs clench instinctively, heat pooling in my core like I’ve never felt, and I make myself look away.

What the fuck?

Gathering my wits, I clear my throat and finish the bandaging, ignoring the way my skin sizzles as if flames are erupting from beneath the surface.

Once my work is done, I scoot back on all fours, as far from him as I can get without falling off the edge, and sit crisscross on the wood.

My insides tingle, something crawling through my veins, as if searching for something and finding it all at once.

I close my eyes, the sensation overwhelming.

My throat burns with a raw thirst that has nothing to do with water.

I breathe in and out slowly, calming myself, and as the fire subsides, my eyes open slowly.

But he’s gone.

How did the man go from being unconscious to disappearing in the minute I took to compose myself?

Leaving nothing behind except my heavy breathing and a wet spot on the porch where his sweaty head had rested.

A low growl from the door interrupts my thoughts as Tiger steps onto the patio, sniffing where my patient was.

He grumbles in kitten nonsense as he scouts out the area before climbing into my lap.

“Weirdest night ever, Tiger.” I scratch behind his ears, shaking my head. “I didn’t even hear him move. I hope he’ll be okay.”

Tiger purrs reassuringly, bumping my paused hand for more pets.

I oblige, staring up at the night sky. Normally, I’d never be outside alone this late.

The memories are too much. The flashes of my mom’s frightened face; my dad’s swinging arm that did no good to dissuade the intruders.

We weren’t rich. We didn’t have anything of value for anyone to take. We were just unlucky.

But they didn’t hurt me.

“I gotta head home, buddy. Let’s get you inside.

” He hops off my lap and pads through the doorway, stepping over my supplies.

I collect everything, putting away the spray inside the first aid kit and crumpling the bandage wrappers in my fist before taking one last look around the yard.

But there’s no sign of the mysterious man.

I lock up Renee’s house and bid Tiger goodnight before heading to my own home. The porch light is bright and welcoming as always, and as I walk up the stairs, I’m greeted by the low meow of the stray that likes to hang around my porch.

“Hey, Old Man.” He pushes up on his front legs, shaking his tail.

The way he moves, as if his joints are stiff, and his fuzzy face make me think of an unruly beard.

He moved to my porch when I moved out of Renee’s.

He won’t let me touch him, though. I tried the first few times he appeared, and he always ran away.

Now I respect his request and we just talk.

“Have a good night,” I tell him before locking myself in my house.

It’s been an odd night, and the adrenaline from the events at my aunt’s has tapered, turning into pure exhaustion.

I should shower, but I don’t know how I’ll muster the energy.

I don’t have a choice, though, so I trudge through the motions of getting clean, the hot water soothing my aching muscles.

By the time I crawl into bed, my eyes are halfway closed.

After squinting at my phone to make sure my alarm is set, I burrow under the covers, the cool sheets welcoming me with open arms. But as I drift off into dreamland, my mind is consumed by the image of the injured man sprawled out before me.

Only now, he’s awake. His eyes are dark and dangerous, roving down my body, and that same feeling floods through me as before, as if my veins themselves are on fire.

The sheets twist around my ankles as I toss and turn, the burning within me nearly unbearable as I’m trapped somewhere between sleep and waking.

My hand snakes between my legs, searching for relief. Every time I send myself over the edge, I imagine it’s at his hands instead of mine. I pretend his full lips are devouring mine as I moan into my pillow, but no matter how many times I orgasm, the ache never ceases.