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Huck was still scowling, but he simply gave a nod, then walked away.
Uncle Neil turned to me. “Ready?”
“Yep,” I replied.
The tension in his shoulders and tight line of his mouth made it clear he had noticed Huck’s odd behavior toward me. Why hadn’t he said something? My uncle tried to shelter me from the life I used to have. It didn’t bother me normally because I preferred to not have to ask questions. But if I was going to be in this house regularly, then I thought it needed to be addressed.
If they had known the Shiloh Ellis before two years ago, then they needed to know she no longer existed. I’d forgotten her life the moment I hit the black ice and crashed into the side of a mountain.
Two
Gage
Fucking hell. When all this shit was off me and I could walk again, there were some motherfuckers who were going to die slow, brutal deaths. How the fuck was I supposed to stay in this house for a week, much less two? There was no way in hell I was going to be down for three weeks, like Carmichael had suggested.
I tried to sit up, but the pain in my chest stopped me. FUCK! That hurt like a bitch. Bastard who had stabbed me was going to be sliced to pieces while he bled to death. Dammit, why had I walked into the place like Rambo? Levi and Huck would have been there in ten minutes. I could have waited, and this shit wouldn’t have happened.
The door to my bedroom opened, and Dr. Carmichael entered the room. Thank fuck. I needed some painkillers or a fifth of whiskey. I opened my mouth to tell him this when my gaze locked on the woman walking in behind him. Maybe the meds hadn’t worn off after all because there was no fucking way Shiloh Ellis had walked into my room.
“Gage,” Carmichael said, but I didn’t look away from the raven-haired female behind him.
Why the fuck couldn’t she have aged poorly? Was it not enough that the bitch had been so damn beautiful that it hurt when she was a teenager? I was high. Had to be. This was not happening. Shiloh wasn’t a fucking nurse. She had never even done a chore in her life. The idea that she’d lift a perfectly manicured finger to play nurse to anyone, especially me, made me want to laugh.
“This is my niece, Shiloh. She’s taking Lynn’s place now that she’s moved away,” the good doc told me.
Taking my eyes off her was difficult, but I did.
“Am I fucking high?” I asked him. “I thought the meds had worn off because I’m hurting like a son of a bitch.”
Carmichael frowned. “It’s almost time for you to have more. Where is your pain scale? One to ten?”
I wanted to shout at her to get the fuck out of my sight. If this was real and she was standing in this room, then someone was going to pay. I glared at her, and I saw her smile falter. The uncertainty in her gaze was almost believable.
“Gage?” Carmichael asked again.
“Ten,” I bit out.
This was a fucking dream. Drug-induced sleep. There was no way that Shiloh Ellis would be in my house. No, she would be married to her med-school boyfriend by now, living a country-club life in Boston.
“Shiloh has read your chart and is aware of your injuries. She will be here during the day to make sure you’re healing properly. I have complete faith in her abilities, and she will contact me if there is any question at all.”
It was her. There was no other chance in hell that her fucking doppelgänger lived in Ocala with the exact same name. Seriously, if this was real, had Huck not seen her? He wouldn’t have let her in the fucking house.
“Gage?” Carmichael said my name again, and I gave her one last look before turning to him.
“Yes, Doc. Uh, pain. Yeah, it hurts like a motherfucker,” I replied.
His glaze flicked to his niece for a moment, then back to me. I could see the unease in his expression. Wouldn’t she have told him when she saw my chart? This was a bad idea, but then again, this couldn’t be happening. She hadn’t lived in Ocala in five years. She was not a damn nurse.
“Just the chest or the leg too?” he asked me.
“Both, but the chest is the worst.”
Carmichael turned to look at Shiloh. “Morphine.”
She nodded, then walked over to the IV drip. My eyes followed her. No acknowledgment at all. Even in my drug-or-concussion-brought-on dreams, wouldn’t she recognize me? Remember me? Fuck yes, she would.
“I’m going to give Shiloh a run-through of where things are. The meds will kick in soon, so in case you’re asleep when I’m done, I’ll be back tomorrow morning unless I’m needed before then.”
