I stare at him...I mean, truly stare at him this time, not caring if he catches me looking anymore, and take in how Godly handsome this man is. God took his time sculpting this man. His pointed nose is slightly pink, probably from sleeping on it. His bright blue eyes stare at the window outside, watching the snowflakes crash against the window unforgivably, where I catch vibrant flecks of dark green in the corners of the irises. Despite the grey weather, his fair skin is kissed deeply by the sun. He’s handsome without even trying.
“You didn’t have to tell your girlfriend to leave. I’m the one who’s imposing here.” I clear my throat. I tuck my knees to my chest, underneath the thick blankets, and wait for him to reply. We exchange glances. My heart skips a beat when we lock eyes.
His lips thin.
“Good morning,” he says.
“Morning,” I reply.
He sighs as the doorbell rings again.
“One, she’s not my girlfriend, and two, you’re not imposing.”
“If she isn’t your girlfriend, why is she here? I thought you said there are no neighbors and the roads were closed?”
“I guess we’re already starting with the one hundred questions,” he scoffs. “She’s a live-in nurse for Merelyn for the most part. She helps take care of her daily. I leave a lot for work, so she keeps her company and makes sure she’s okay, and takes her medication, stuff like that, when I can’t.”
“Who is Merelyn to you? Is she your mother?”
“No. She’s not my mother, but she’s the only person I consider family. I’ll be back.”
“Gavin!” Merelyn shouts as the sound of a door closes.
Before he walks out, his shadow looms over me as he stands in front of my face. He makes it harder to stay calm by the way his fingers push the hair out of my face, and he runs his thumb softly over my bandage. He lifts the gauze for a quick second, then places it back down.
“There’s only one shower and bedroom, by the way. Shampoo and soap are inside.” He leaves the room. The door barely makes a sound as it clicks shut. I wait a few more minutes before stretching out my sore muscles and using the restroom.
CHAPTER 9
CORALINE
After draining my bladder, I see shampoo, conditioner, an unused loofah, lotion, a toothbrush, and floss, all laid out perfectly for me to use. It’s all new.
I strip off my clothes, and when I spot the bruises and healing cuts over my body, I shiver. My head still hurts, and I’m sensitive to light. These headaches I get won't go away, and I just know I have a TBI.
I need to get to a hospital after the storm passes to be checked for any additional injuries. I hold myself and tear my eyes away from my reflection. Dark half-moons are under my eyes. Even though I’ve slept for what feels like forever, it isn’t enough.
I tear off the bandages from my forehead and toss them in the small black trash can sitting in the corner. The deep maroon slash I have begins at my temple, into my hairline, and ends in my scalp.Ouch. The cut is already scabbed over and stitched. I must have passed out when Merelyn or Gavin did them because I don’t remember it. My hair has oil residue from whichever antibiotic cream they rubbed on me.
I neatly place my clothes on a wooden shelf above the toilet.I survey myself in the bronze framed, rectangular mirror mounted above the sink. Deep black and purple bruises freckle the left side of my ribs. I swivel to my right to get a better view. I guess that explains the pain. I gently line my fingers against them, tracing them, testing how fresh they are. Luckily, I can touch my skin, and it doesn’t sting.
My hair looks like a knotted mess. My thick black hair strands don’t know which way to go as they defy gravity and stick out in all directions. My teeth and tongue feel gross. God, I need a shower.
I turn on the shower by twisting the silver knob. Once it reaches lukewarm, I step into the tub.
At first, I went straight for my hair. Cleaned my body and moved more gently over my cuts and bruises. Now that that’s finished, I want to stay under the soothing water as long as I can. I turn the water off. The knob creaks until I can’t turn it any longer. The water stops running and drips down the showerhead as I pull the shower curtains aside. Standing in front of the foggy mirror above the sink, I lean over and swipe it with my palm to create a window for my reflection. My dark hair clings to my collarbones.
I look way better after that shower.
I line the toothbrush with toothpaste when a drop of red falls into the sink bowl, then another, and another. Shit, I must have nicked the cut on my head when I was washing my hair. I steal a glance in the mirror when I spot a pale woman with darkened undereyes, blue lips, wearing a loose white satin dress behind me. She’s looking straight at me, holding my scared gaze. Her skin looks like it’s glowing. She reaches out to touch my shoulder, and I lose it. It all happens in a second. A string of horror ripples through my veins, making me scream—the tube of toothpaste crashes to the ground at my feet. I whirl around, hugging the towel tighter to my naked, wet chest.
The woman is gone.
Blood pounds in my ears as I try to control my racing heart. Goosebumps erupt all over my body as I blink hard and fast, checking every single corner of the bathroom for the woman. The door is still closed. It wasn’t Merelyn. It wasn’t Georgia. And it definitely wasn’t Gavin.
Who the hell was behind me staring at me through the mirror with a dead expression in my restroom, because I refuse to believe I just saw a ghost. There’s clearly a rational explanation for this.
I open the door and head straight for the dresser.
