Page 33 of Wrecked (McIntyre Security Bodyguard #16)

Everything hurts. My head. My leg. My ribs. My back. I feel bruised and broken, like I was run over by a Mack truck. The only bright spot is Cooper. He rarely leaves my side.

The next few days are an unending cycle of pain, medication, and blinding headaches. I even have a few seizures, which nearly gives Cooper heart attacks. The doctor assures us they’re normal for someone recuperating from a brain injury like mine.

My mom and sister are here, and they visit me for short periods each day. But I tire easily and don’t feel much like talking.

Beth and Shane come to visit once a day, and each time Beth leaves in tears.

For some reason, she insists on taking the blame for what happened to me.

I try to convince her it’s not her fault.

Of course, I had to save her from the path of the car, and not just because it’s my job, but because she’s a dear friend.

I would willingly do the exact same thing for her all over again.

The headaches persist, and sometimes I’m in so much pain it brings me to tears. I hate crying like a baby, especially in front of Cooper. I even catch him teary-eyed a few times.

He remains at my side, day after day, leaving only for short periods to get food or coffee or find a shower. Shane brought him a supply of clothes. He helps me eat and drink.

Mom and Rachel call me every day. Cooper says they came to see me right after the accident and stayed a couple of days, but my memories of seeing them are blurry.

My most recent CT Scan shows the swelling in my skull is decreasing. That’s good news.

Gradually, the pain in my head decreases. My leg no longer hurts like it’s filled with broken glass every time I shift in bed.

I no longer catch Cooper crying when he thinks I’m still sleeping. And now his bossy voice is coming out more and more, especially when it comes to me eating and drinking. That has to be a sign that I’ll survive.

Finally, Dr. Newman releases me.

“Where am I going?” I ask Cooper. I obviously can’t take care of myself with this stupid leg in a cast—again. I’m expecting him to say I’m going to a rehab facility.

“You’re coming home with me,” he says as he runs his hand over my hair. “You’ll stay with me in the penthouse until you’re back on your feet.”

“Really?” That is definitely the silver lining in this awful cloud.

“Yes, really. When we get home, I’ll cook you a nice dinner.”

“Chicken and dumplings?” I ask hopefully. “And cornbread?”

He nods. “Whatever you want, baby.”

A medical transport comes to the hospital to pick me up. As they’re pushing my wheelchair out of my room, I notice a familiar figure standing outside my door—a McIntyre Security employee I’ve seen a time or two. “Derek? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Sam,” he says. “I hear you’re going home.”

“How long have you been out here? Why didn’t you come in and say hi?”

Derek gives me a sheepish smile. “Actually, I’m on duty. No fraternizing with the client.”

“Who’s the client?”

Derek looks at Cooper, who shrugs. “You are,” Derek finally says to me. “We’ve been guarding your room since you got here.”

“All right, enough chit-chat,” Cooper says, cutting our conversation short. He motions for the transport attendant to keep moving. “Let’s get going.”

In the ambulance, I question Cooper about why I had security posted outside my hospital room.

“We’ll discuss this later,” he says. Clearly, he doesn’t want to talk shop in front of the attendants.

When we arrive at the apartment building, I’m wheeled up to the penthouse, Cooper by my side. The elevator is a bit crowded as we’re accompanied by the two attendants, one pushing my wheelchair, and the other one along for the ride I guess.

It looks like I’ll be confined to the wheelchair for the foreseeable future. According to Dr. Newman’s instructions, I can’t put any weight on my leg. I’m not even allowed to use crutches. It’s the wheelchair, or nothing.

Beth and Shane are there to greet us when I’m rolled inside.

“Are you okay?” Beth asks. She takes my right hand in hers. “You look pale.”

“All this moving around makes my leg ache.”

Beth directs the attendant where to take me—she’s fixed up a guest suite for me. The room is right next to his.

The two attendants transfer me from the wheelchair to the bed. As soon as I’m situated, Cooper fusses over me, tucking pillows beneath my broken leg to elevate it.

Beth stands on the opposite side of the bed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was nervous. Fidgeting, she gives me a sad smile. “Hey, you, welcome home.”

I hold out my arms. “You’d better give me a hug.” I pull her down onto the bed beside me. “Sit with me and tell me what I’ve missed.”

She says not much has happened. She does tell me that Miguel is filling in for me as her primary bodyguard. Miguel is a great guy, and he’ll do a great job, but I hate being replaced, even temporarily.

“Don’t let him get too comfortable,” I say. “Make sure he knows it’s a temporary assignment. I want my job back, just as soon as I’m physically fit.”

“I don’t think you need to worry on that score.” Finally, she starts to relax a bit. She even gives a little laugh. “There is one other thing.”

“What?”

She looks like she’s about to bust with excitement. “I’m pregnant. I just found out when I was in the hospital. I’m about ten weeks long.”

“Pregnant?” I feel like I’ve just been hit by a car all over again. “Wow. But everything’s okay? With the baby, I mean? God, Beth, I pushed you so hard. I saw you fall.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “We’re both fine.” She reaches for my hand. “You saved my baby’s life, Sam.”

Shane walks up to the bed and offers me his hand. “I’m in your debt, Sam. You saved the two most important people in my life. I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

Now it’s my turn to tear up. “Oh, I’m sure we can come up with something.”

Cooper, who’s standing at the foot of the bed, clears his throat. “While you guys are getting reacquainted, I’ll go start dinner. I promised Sam chicken and dumplings tonight.”

Cooper leaves, and Shane follows him out, leaving me and Beth alone.

I start digging for information. “All right now, spill it, Princess. What else the hell’s going on?”

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“Cooper hasn’t told me a damn thing, but I know for a fact that I had guards on my hospital room door around the clock. Why?”

“Guards? I didn’t know that, but I’m not surprised.”

“Why? What’s going on?” When she winces, I realize there’s a lot going on I don’t know about. “Beth? What the hell’s going on.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lia apprehended the driver who hit you. Otherwise, he would have driven off, left the scene.”

“Yeah? And?”

She proceeds to explain that the so-called accident—the hit and run—wasn’t actually an accident. It was intentional. Lia managed to apprehend the driver before he could escape, and he’s in custody right now singing like a canary in hopes of getting a plea deal.

“He had a photograph of me in his wallet,” she says quietly, as if the horror of the event is still sinking in. “It wasn’t an accident, Sam. He was trying to run me over. It was a hired hit.”

“Do we know who hired him?” In my gut, I already know, but I need to hear it confirmed.

Beth shrugs. “There’s no proof yet, but Shane’s pretty sure it was Luciana.”

“That woman is a nutjob. Who in the hell does she think she is? If I see her again, I’ll run her over.”

Laughing, Beth leans over and hugs me. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”

* * *

That evening, after dinner and an impromptu party we had because half of Shane’s gigantic family came to say hi, Cooper wheels me back to my room. He takes me into the bathroom first, so I can get ready for bed.

It’s easy enough for me to brush my teeth at the sink, but using the toilet’s another thing altogether. I stare at it.

“You either use the toilet or I get you a bed pan,” Cooper says, very matter of fact. “Which is it?”

“I’m not using a bed pan,” I say. I had enough of that in the hospital.

Cooper nods. “Good decision. Need some help?”

“That’s okay. I’ve got it.” I wheel myself up to the toilet and lock the brakes. I stand on my good leg and try to maneuver myself to the toilet seat, but my arms are limp as noodles and my one good leg is shaking. I’m stuck halfway.

He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, not budging a muscle.

“Okay, fine! Help me. Please.”

Very methodically, he shoves my sweats down. I’m commando underneath, just to make things easier. Cooper sits me down, then says, “Call me when you’re done.” And he walks away.

I could kiss him for at least sparing my dignity.

When all that business is taken care of, Cooper helps me into my wheelchair and pushes me to the bed. He’s so careful when he helps me transfer back into bed, but still pain shoots up my leg. I wince.

“How bad is it?” Cooper asks.

“Not too bad.” I’m gritting my teeth as I shrug, not wanting to complain.

“I’ll get you some pain meds. Hold on.”

“No, don’t. I’ll be fine. I don’t like to take medication.”

“Sam, if you’re hurting—”

“I said no.”

“Stubborn ass.”

“After the parachute accident, I was in a lot of pain. The doctors prescribed me pain medication—the strong stuff. After a while, I started worrying about becoming dependent on them, so I stopped taking them. I don’t want to go through that again. It’s not worth it.”

Cooper whips off his shirt and climbs into bed with me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“What does it look like? I haven’t slept with you in ages, and I miss it.” He leans in and kisses me. “Now go to sleep. You’re exhausted.”

He lays his head on my shoulder and wraps his arm around my waist, holding me tight as if he’s afraid I’m going to get up and walk away.

Sighing, I hold his hand and link our fingers together. It’s good to be home.