Chapter 5

Waiting in the break room,fatigue and pain plagued my body. I was still on edge after seeing the hulking form of Sebastian in the doorway. He was huge and ripped. For a moment my whole body had tensed, and my breath raced as I thought Derek had found me, but that wasn’t possible... right?

Resting my head back, I closed my eyes. I would love nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up in that rusted-old truck with this only being a bizarre dream. But I knew better than to wish pain didn’t exist.

I must’ve dozed off, however, since I was lightly shaken awake with a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Atticus’s kind face looking down at me.

“Let’s get you up and in the truck, and we can get going,” he said softly. He carefully helped me sit up and braced me as he pulled my good arm over his shoulders. He put his other arm around my waist as he lifted me onto my good leg. I hopped a little unsteadily, since he was so much taller than me. He was almost crouched in half trying to help me walk. I turned and sat on the seat by the sofa.

“Just give me a sec,” I said with a wince because his arm had been around my waist and his hand had pressed on my sore ribs. I checked around suddenly as a panicked thought popped into my head. “Where’s my backpack?” How had I forgotten about it! Pain really messed with my head.

“It’s okay. Doc brought it in, and I already placed it in my truck.”

“Okay,” I said, then chewed on my lower lip.

“Do you mind if I carry you?” Atticus asked hesitantly. “It might be quicker and not put any added weight on your injuries.”

Embarrassed at my predicament, I simply nodded and braced myself for him to pick me up. It didn’t hurt as much this time because I was ready. I carefully placed my good arm around his neck as he carried me bridal style out of the break room and through the garage to where a truck was idling in the driveaway, the passenger door hanging open. He carefully placed me on the seat and even buckled my belt as I sat there blinking stupidly at him.

No one had ever cared if I was buckled in, and a weird feeling blossomed in my chest. My cheeks warmed as I turned away, but I managed to mutter “thank you” as he closed the door and went around the driver’s side of the truck to get in. I couldn’t see Sebastian but knew he must’ve been there somewhere as we left for the hospital, wherever that was.

As we headed away from Hope’s Ridge, back the way I’d come into town, I gazed out the window and watched the land go by. Fields and farmland quickly changed into forests and mountains. I gazed into the dense woods and all I could see was darkness. The sun still hadn’t risen over the ridge line. Could the light even penetrate these foreboding woods and show the predators it likely contained? How had I come so far to only be heading back to another hospital? At least this time it really was an accident. It felt like I was always going back there one way or another. Stopping that train of thought, I turned to watch Atticus as he drove.

“Thank you for driving me and for everything back there,” I said with a smile. It was nice of him, especially when it seemed to be so far away. I wouldn’t have had a hope in hell of getting there by myself.

“It’s no trouble, I swear.” He turned to flash me a smile.

Groaning, I considered what this trip was going to cost. There was no way I had enough cash to cover it. I might have enough for half the bill and that wasn’t including the X-rays. What was I going to do? Maybe a payment plan, but I still didn’t have a phone or permanent address yet. Shit.

“What’s the matter? Are you in pain?” Atticus rushed to ask. He appeared so stressed that I just blurted out my thoughts.

“I was just thinking about how much this will cost. I don’t have insurance. . . at the moment.” I wouldn’t and couldn’t use Derek’s, even though I was sure I was still listed on his plan. He was always the one to take me to the doctor or ER after a bad “accident” to ensure I “healed right” and made certain they all knew how clumsy I was. It was rare for him to bother to take me, but it was because he needed to make sure I kept my mouth shut. The one and only time I’d gone to an actual hospital without him or his permission had only made things worse. It had been the final straw that had kick-started my escape plan. Memories of one of the worst injuries broke through to the front of my mind, even though I didn’t want to think about it.

I could barely breathe. Something was horribly wrong. I’d snuck out while he was at work and gone to our local emergency room. It turned out I had a bruised lung and cracked rib. Thankfully I didn’t need surgery. The hospital had kept me for about a week. Derek had been furious but always hid it well in public. Once I was discharged and sent home, Derek had let his displeasure be known and he’d rearranged my face. One of the few times he’d visibly marked me where people would’ve been able to see. He said it was my fault for embarrassing him by going to a hospital for my clumsiness. He’d taken time off work to keep an eye on me until the bruising healed. I didn’t dare go to the hospital again after that.

Shaking myself out of the past, I refocused on Atticus, who was watching me from the corner of his eye.

“We’ll work it out. I’d be happy to help or even front you the money, and you can pay me back later. Your health must come first. Try not to stress too much,” he said.

It took me a moment to process the conversation, and it gave me pause that a complete stranger could be so kind and generous. This was something I’d never really experienced. I was only just able to choke out “thank you” as emotions clogged my throat. I wasn’t used to this level of kindness.

“It’s really no trouble,” he reassured me. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? Where are you from?”

The question caught me off guard and made me pause. How much was safe to say? I hated that I couldn’t trust the kindness offered or even myself sometimes. I settled for starting small. “I grew up in Iowa.”

“You’re a long way from home.” He sounded surprised.

“It’s where I grew up but never said it was home,” I responded morosely. I didn’t like this line of questioning and needed to turn the tables. “What about you?”

Chuckling, he glanced at me. “Well, as Doc mentioned, I’m Hope’s Ridge born and raised.”

“You mentioned something about brothers. Do you have more than one?” I asked, thinking of Sebastian.

“Yes, I’m the oldest of four.” He smiled, gaze focused on the distance. “You met Seb, then there’s Theodore, but we call him Theo, and our youngest brother Lyric.”

“Lyric, that’s an unusual name,” I said offhand.

“For a unique character.” He laughed. “When you finally meet him, you’ll know what I mean. That kid walks to the beat of his own drum.”

I liked the sound of his family, and it was a surprise to find myself smiling. You could tell they cared about each other, and the happiness radiated off Atticus as he spoke about them.

“What about your parents?”

“Mama is still around, but we lost Pa a few years ago,” he said solemnly.

“I’m so sorry.” I rushed to apologize for bringing up what must be a painful memory.

“No worries. It was sudden, but we’ve all come to terms with it one way or another.” He looked so sad.

“If you’ve ever met a Greek mother or grandmother, you’ll know they’re a force to be reckoned with and kept my brothers and I all in line since we lost Pa. Mama’s the strongest person I know.” He went quiet and seemed to be lost in thought but was smiling, so I hoped he was okay. Silence settled over us again. It wasn’t awkward, as far as those things went, but it did allow me to think. I wondered, not for the first time, what my life would’ve been like if I’d known my mom and dad and had grown up in a loving household like Atticus’s.

We passed the rest of the drive in relative silence. I must’ve fallen asleep again because the next thing I knew the truck was parked and Atticus was gently shaking my shoulder to wake me. He even had my backpack hooked over his shoulder and was waiting with a wheelchair for me.

“Where’d you manage to get the chair?” I asked as he helped me into it.

“Charmed one of the nurses.” He went around to wheel me toward the emergency room doors. I didn’t like the way my stomach clenched at the thought of him flirting with someone.

Once through the doors, Atticus let them know I was here and came back to me with what seemed like a million forms to fill out. As Doc had mentioned, I had to go over everything again from scratch. Why was the paperwork always so long? Why couldn’t they have just talked to whoever Doc’s friend was who worked here? Sighing, I concentrated on jotting down my information as neatly as I could with my injured hand. I’d filled in so many of these types of forms since meeting Derek, it was really a matter of muscle memory. I filled it out on autopilot pausing at the address box. I had no address anymore. What could I even put here. Shaking my head I decided to leave it blank and come back to it. I needed to finish what I could before my hand cramped up.

The first time I’d had to fill these in was incredibly difficult and took way longer with my dyslexia to work out what I needed to write. I was always slow with forms, reading, and writing, but now at least I knew what most of it said and could answer the standard stuff easily enough. When it got to the incident section my hand was cramping, as expected. My writing became illegible and my wrist was killing me. Of course, Derek managed to hurt my dominant arm, and the fall had only made it worse. Atticus took pity on me and offered to help. I let him take over while I dozed in the waiting room, listening to the hubbub of activity, pain, and stress that was an emergency waiting room.

Everything seemed to go surprisingly quickly after that. I was examined, poked, and prodded, sent to radiology, led back to the waiting room, and then back to radiology again. They’d given me some Tylenol soon after I’d arrived, and while it didn’t really work for the amount of pain I was in, it had taken a bit of the edge off. Now I was just so tired. By the time I was finally led in to see the doctor, I was sure we’d been here forever. Poor Atticus must’ve been just as exhausted as me, going back and forth and in and out of radiology as much as we did. He wheeled me into the exam room and waited, shuffling back and forth, before standing to leave, but I caught his wrist and looked up into those pale green eyes so full of concern.

“Can you please stay?” I asked hesitantly. I was tired, drained, and had had enough of this place. I wanted to take the life raft he was offering and grab on tight.

“You sure?” he whispered back, holding eye contact like he was looking for something in particular. He must’ve found what he was searching for because he smiled at me and took the vacant seat. The doctor glanced back and forth between us.

“You sure you want him in the room, Mr. Erikson?” he asked in his no-nonsense tone from his seat behind his desk. “We’ll be discussing your medical history and treatment.”

“It’s fine,” I responded, ready to get this all over with.

“Okay then, it looks like you have fractured the second and third metatarsals in your foot. We’ll need to fit you with a walking boot for six to eight weeks, and you’ll need to keep it elevated and iced for about a week. You also have a hairline fracture to the ulna and scaphoid in your wrist.” I sighed at the insinuations that were coming. “There is also some concerning bruising around your wrist. It isn’t all from today’s accident, is it?” He paused to look at me, gaze unflinching.

Hesitating, I answered him without breaking eye contact. I knew this game well and couldn’t risk a police report being written up, not this time. “I also fell about a week ago, down some stairs. It was slippery.” I shrugged, not daring to blink.

He studied me as a heavy silence filled the room.

Sighing, he stared at me. “I’ve seen this type of injury before, Mr. Erikson. I think I need to talk to you alone.” He turned to look at Atticus, his gaze changing from serious to angry. “Do you have anything to say to that, sir?”

Atticus was taken aback by the doctor’s sudden shift in demeanor. “What? I can step out, it’s no problem,” he said, flicking his gaze between me and the doctor.

“No, wait!” I exclaimed quickly, not liking this turn of events. “It wasn’t him, I swear. I just met him today.”

The doctor studied me closely. I implored him to believe me, since this time it was the truth.

“It’s true, he only arrived in my town yesterday, and I startled him this morning, causing the accident,” Atticus added, looking confused. He turned to me. “What do you mean, it wasn’t me? What wasn’t me?”

I ignored Atticus’s questions. My heart raced as I sat on tenterhooks waiting for the doctor’s verdict.

“I’ll believe you, this time. But I need you to be honest with me. Are there any other injuries from before today’s accident that I need to look at?”

Letting out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, I flinched as my ribs twinged. The doctor caught my wince. Damn it.

Sighing, I nodded. “Yes, my ribs were injured, too, but they’re just bruised,” I added quickly, hoping I wouldn’t have to be examined.

I wasn’t so lucky. The doctor stood and came over to me. Since I was still in the wheelchair, he leaned down in front of me. “Let me take a look, then. Can you lift your shirt, please?”

I did as instructed, flinching when cold hands prodded around all the bruises, which were stark against my pale skin.

Atticus let out a shocked gasp, and I knew what he was seeing, the conclusions he was likely drawing. Hell.

The doctor finished his examination and went back to his desk. I quickly lowered my shirt. I couldn’t look at Atticus. I didn’t want to see pity on his face or the questions he would want answered.

“I think you’re right. Your ribs don’t seem to be broken. Although, that is some significant bruising, and that swelling is a little concerning.” He paused until he caught my eye. “It also looks more recent than a week ago.” Raising a dark brow, he gave me a pointed look, waiting for me to confirm his suspicions.

“It was about four days ago.” Looking down at my lap, I felt ripped open and completely exposed.

“Okay.” He drummed his fingers on his desk. “I recommend ice for today or until that swelling is gone, then heat for the next few days. As for your wrist, I recommend putting it in a cast. The two fractures in your wrist are from two different points of impact, so I feel a cast is the best chance of preventing further injury and having them heal properly this time,” he concluded pointedly.

I shot a quick glance at Atticus to see if he realized what the doctor had hinted at. He had a solemn look on his face that didn’t give anything away. Neither of us said anything else, and the doctor finally sighed. “I’ll have a nurse come in to cast your wrist and help fit you with a walking boot, then go through the care procedures with you. Do you have any questions?”

I just shook my head. “All right, you wait here, and I’ll send the nurse soon.” And with that, he left the room.

I could feel Atticus studying me, his gaze burning into my cheek. I was too embarrassed to look at him.

“Are you okay?” I could practically hear the sympathy in his voice.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, really not wanting to talk about any of this.

He must’ve picked up on my reticence because he changed tactics.

“I guess we’ll need to get you some crutches or should you have a wheelchair? Maybe I should’ve asked the doctor.” He was looking over his shoulder, like he was trying to find the doctor who was long gone. “Maybe we could rent one and see. Where are you staying? Is it even wheelchair accessible. . .?” He was on his way to talking fast like he had when he’d first helped me. It was so endearing to hear him spiral, like I was prone to do, but it also probably meant he was starting to freak out.

I mustered my courage and laid my good hand on his toned bicep to get him to look at me. “Who was telling me earlier that we’ll work it out and not to stress? Right, that was you,” I said, chuckling when he smiled at me. “It’ll be okay.” I tried my best to reassure him. He simply put his hand over mine on his bicep, and my fingers tingled when he made contact. My eyes just about bugged out of my head as he took my hand and brushed his lips over the back of it. A pleasant shiver raced up and down my arm as my cheeks heated. He was so sweet, even after what he’d just seen. How could he be real?