AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The door opens and in walks the angel, Seb, followed by another man carrying what looks to be a medical bag.
The doctor places the bag down on the bottom of the bed. He’s around my height, greying hair and beard, with glasses that hang low on his nose, and he’s dressed in a suit. That’s something you don’t see every day.
“Camryn, it’s good to see you awake. I hope you still think I’m pretty,” Seb says with a wink and a cheeky grin. “This is Dr. Mike Wallis, he’s going to check you over and sort that leg out for you, okay, darling.” I offer a small nod, and worry has me biting my lip. The doctor moves around to my right side, and I pin my gaze on him. There’s something familiar about him, and I’m sure I’ve seen him before. My mind is still a little fuzzy, so I just put it down to that.
“Hello, Camryn. It’s good to see you, just unfortunate it had to be under these circumstances,” he greets, offering me his hand to shake. I reach out, placing my hand in his. It’s warm and soft, and as his fingers close around my hand, he turns it over, resting his other hand on top. When I look up, his light blue eyes sparkle with kindness, and I relax a little. He pats my hand a couple of times before letting go.
“So, Seb tells me you bumped your head rather hard. Can you tell me how it feels now? Any spots in your vision, any blurriness, a headache, or anything else?” he asks, reaching over to his bag.
“Yeah, I have a slight headache, but no spots or blurriness now. It hurts to move my head too quickly though, like a stabbing pain. And I feel nauseous.” He nods along with my answers, then checks my eyes with his little light, checks the bump on the back of my head and concludes that I have minor concussion. I didn’t really need a doctor to tell me that. “It’s not my first rodeo,” I tell him, bitterness and anger lacing my words. He just nods, no surprise or judgement on his face.
When he moves on to my leg, that’s a completely different kettle of fish. That shit hurts. Once the bandage is removed, I can finally see the damage. That’s going to leave one hell of a scar. Just another one to add to the collection. It’s going to need suturing, again not my first time, I tell him this too, and that I don’t want any anaesthetic, that shit doesn’t agree with me.
As the doctor sets up his equipment, I watch Seb as he stands in the corner of the room. He has his arms crossed over his broad chest, both arms are sleeved in tattoos, and as he turns his head to look out the window, I spot a tattoo that goes from his neck down below the collar of his t-shirt. I narrow my eyes trying to decipher it better, it looks like wings, and then recognition hits. And so, does the doctor.
I let out a high-pitched scream as Dr. Wallis begins cleaning my leg. He pokes around, ensuring there are no smaller pieces of glass. Through the fog of pain, I can hear someone calling my name, but I can’t focus on it right now. I close my eyes, taking slow deep breaths, as the Doc starts suturing. Then I hear him.
“Where the fuck is she?” Ryder shouts, and I open my eyes to see that Seb is no longer in here. I can hear Seb trying to calm him down, but he’s fuming.
“Move out of my fucking way, Seb, now!” The door flies open as Ryder stomps into the room, stopping the moment his eyes land on me. His face is red, I’m not sure if it’s from rage or exertion, and his nostrils flare wildly with each breath he takes. His hands are at his sides, clenched tight, and as my eyes scan his face, I see the tic in his jaw and several bruises marking his beautiful face. Ryder’s eyes are a swirling, stormy blue that look like they could fire bolts of lightning, striking anything in his way. The doctor hits a particularly sore spot, and I cry out.
“Argh, fuck!” My cry is drowned out by the growl that rips from Ryder’s throat as his eyes fly to the Doctor. I see Seb seize Ryder’s arm stopping his advance. Scared for the Doc’s life if I make another noise, I bite my tongue. Ryder watches me for several more minutes, then without a damn word he storms from the room. Seb offers me a sad smile before he races after him.
“Well, that was interesting, wouldn’t you say,” the Doc says, his amusement clear. “Almost done, Camryn. You’re going to need to keep this dry for at least 48 hours and change the dressing every day for the first week, but let me guess, you already know that.” There’s no judgement there, he’s simply stating what I’ve already told him. I know the drill.
When he’s done, he packs away and wishes me well. He leaves his card on the bedside table, telling me to call if I have any concerns. As the door clicks closed, I huff out a huge breath, leaning my head on the headboard. I realise that I don’t know what happened to Scott or if he’s okay. I vaguely remember Seb saying that he was, and I’m certain I heard Scott’s voice when we were back at the crash site.
A bone-weary tiredness crashes over me, but before I allow it to swallow me, pulling me into the darkness, I need to clean up. My trousers have already been removed, I’m guessing cut to shreds, but I’m still wearing what’s left of my once white blouse. I slowly push myself in to a sitting position, shuffling to the edge of the bed. The pain as eased since the Doc gave me some painkillers, leaving a bottle next to the bed for me to take regularly.
A wave of nausea washes over me as I get to my feet, and I pause a second till it passes. There’s another door in the room that I’m praying is a bathroom. It is and after a lot of manoeuvring, I finally manage to clean up and wash my hair. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the sink. My skin is sallow, and there are bruises just beginning to bloom on my face. My usually bright brown eyes are dulled, and there’s a cut above my right eye where I banged it on the window during the crash. To be fair, I’ve looked much worse before.
Turning away, I exit the bathroom to find a pile of clean clothes on the freshly made bed. Quickly dressing in what is most definitely a man’s t-shirt and joggers, I climb back under the covers and sleep.
My sleep is fitful, but sometime during the night I wake crying, only to be swept up in safe arms that hold me until I fall back to sleep.
Twenty-Eight
Camryn
As consciousness beckons, I can almost pretend that last night never happened, but as I stretch, every ache and pain makes itself known. My leg twinges as the muscle contracts with the movement, and the sutures pinch. My head feels sore, but there’s no longer an annoying little miner in there hammering away. Whilst I’m aware of the rest of my body, it feels more like I had a hard workout rather than a car crash and a fight with…Lewis. Shit. I need to find out what happened to him. As Sean’s second, he’ll be missed, and Sean will want payback if he’s dead. Not that I give a flying fuck, I hope he’s dead and wild animals have ravaged every part of his body. I only wish I could have been there to see him suffer. I’m seriously starting to worry about my penchant for brutality and death.
I’m on my way to the bathroom, wincing with each step, when there’s a knock on the bedroom door, and then it opens and in steps Seb carrying a tray. Seeing the bed empty has panic flashing in his eyes, then he spots me, and a relieved smile crosses his face.
“Hey. I brought you some breakfast and thought you could do with a dose of this handsome, no, sorry that’s not right. What was it you said? Oh yeah, pretty was what you said. So, have your fill of this pretty face.” He puts one hand on under his chin, tilting his head slightly and wagging his eyebrows at me.
I let out a little laugh, it’s impossible not to. “I see you’re thepretty,cocky, joker of the trio,” I say, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door.
“That laugh tells me you love me already,” he calls through the door.
Five minutes later when I step out of the bathroom, he’s sitting on the other side of the bed, one foot on the floor and eating what I’m assuming is the toast he made for me. I shake my head as I hobble back to the bed.
“Rude much.” I point at the toast halfway to his mouth, not in the least bit bothered he stuffs it into his mouth. Sitting down, I shuffle back and gingerly bring my left leg up onto the bed. “You better not leave crumbs in my bed,” I tell him around a smile that I try my best to hide but fail miserably.
“Your bed, huh? Well, for a start, it’s my bed,” I raise an eyebrow at that, “and second, it’s not the crumbs you need to worry about but the giant anaconda that lurks here ‘cause he eats injured woman for breakfast.”
I don’t even try to hold in the burst of laughter that leaves me at that. “Really? More like eats the injured woman’s breakfast.” I deadpan, but I can’t keep a straight face. “Does that shit really work for you?”
Seb holds a hand to his chest feigning hurt, “My poor wounded heart,” he says, before dropping the act. “Of course it does. The ladies lap it up, what with myprettyface and charming conversation.”
