treated somewhere else. I wanted to get up to find you, but they wouldn't let me. I mustn't have tried hard enough..."
Horrified at the memory, I cut her off. "You did too much as it was – if you'd done any more, we might have lost you. You came so close, Caitlin... hell, I was scared." She looked shocked. Embarrassed at having said it, I looked out the window – anywhere but at her. Careful. I had a job to do here and couldn't afford to make any mistakes.
I waited for her to say something, but she was strangely silent. "Caitlin?" I asked, worried, looking back at her. Oh, fuck. Work could wait. She was far more important than any job. Seeing the tears cascading down her face and how hopeless she was at hiding them, I burst out, "Don't cry, angel. It's over."
That did it. She clung to me, sobbing, and I just held her, letting her cry herself out. After what seemed like forever, when I figured she'd cried herself to sleep against my shirt, she pulled away, hiccupping.
"Thank you. I think... you saved my life." Biting her lip, hesitating, she turned her eyes on me. "Who are you? I... I barely know you." She looked as if she might start crying again, her tears held back only by a force of will. I'd seen enough of her tears to last me into my next lifetime – or maybe just an eternity in hell after the end of this one.
I answered immediately, all of my prepared beginnings forgotten. "My name is Nathan Miller. I found you lying on the beach. I just brought you in to the hospital."
At this, she looked at her hands, bandaged up to her wrists, the IV drip taped to her already swollen right hand. "Nathan Miller," she murmured quietly, before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. "Nathan," she breathed, her eyes still closed, as if my name were a new wine she were tasting, focussing on the feel of the word on her tongue.
I found myself holding my breath, unsure of what to say to this girl, a near stranger. A hysterical thought occurred to me. If there were a wine with my name on it, what sort would it be? I didn't know enough about wine to imagine it. One with a high alcohol content that came with a hangover in the morning, that's for sure. But what would she do? Would she savour the taste and take another sip, or spit it out with a shake of her head and refuse to let it pass her lips again? What was she thinking? I desperately wanted her not to reject me, this girl I barely knew. This girl I couldn't tear my eyes away from.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before her mouth curved upwards in the slightest smile. "Thank you. You chose to keep your promise... Nathan." She opened her eyes slowly as she said my name, her tone caressing, those big dark eyes fixed on me as she tilted her head the tiniest bit to one side.
How did she do that? One moment my head was full of questions about what she'd said before my name, then it was wiped blissfully blank. All I wanted now was to hear her say my name like that again. All I could think about was what I wanted to do to her to elicit that kind of response. I wanted... Fuck, no!
There was no way in hell I could want a girl who was in hospital after being beaten and worse. A girl whose piercing screams woke me when anyone touched her, even in her dreams. I'd have to be a real sick bastard to want that.
A sick bastard who's going to fucking forget he'd ever entertained the thought of wanting Caitlin, that's for sure, I promised myself.
Her eyes no longer held mine, focussing first on her white-swathed hands, before moving to her lap, surveying the whole length of the bed. She looked up slowly, biting her lip, taking an inventory of her hurts.
Knowing that her injuries were far worse than just those covered by the white bandages I could see, I swallowed and tried to speak. Better late than never. "I'm so sorry, Caitlin. If anything I did hurt you, I'm sorry."
Now she looked puzzled. "You... didn't. You were... shot?" She looked at me, struggling to remember. She reached out, touching her palm lightly to the place where the bullet had grazed my shoulder.
Through both the bandage and the fabric of my shirt, I barely felt her light touch, but the contact felt electric, as if there was nothing between her skin and mine. As if she'd touched a nerve that fed directly into my spine, a tingling that was far from painful.
Hastily, I answered, "Yes. So were you. But... it could have been far worse if you hadn't distracted him. Thank you. I may very well owe you my life."
She gave a tiny smile in reply, still looking troubled, but her next words were interrupted by a fit of coughing that left her breathless and exhausted. I shifted the pillows behind her so she'd be comfortable as she sank back into them. I carefully pulled her sheets and blankets up to cover her again, conscious of her eyes on me.
"Will you still be here in the morning when I wake up?" she asked in a small voice.
Of course. Where else would I be? I'll lose my job if I'm not, I thought but didn't say. "Would you like me to be?" I asked instead.
She nodded hesitantly, her eyes fearful.
"Then I'll be here," I said with a smile.
"Thank you," she responded softly, closing her eyes.
"Nathan," she murmured a few seconds later, almost as an afterthought, as she drifted into sleep once more.
I stood and moved to my own bed, intent on going back to sleep, too.
Brilliant. I'd made her cry, compared myself to a hangover in a bottle and nearly propositioned her. Maybe the next time I stuck my foot in my mouth I'd do her a favour and fucking choke on it.
My eyes snapped open as I realised. I turned to look at her, but she was asleep. I lay back on my pillow, now wearing a smile on my face.
However badly I'd handled this, she still wanted me to stay 'til the next morning.
24
I woke to swearing, then a heavy thump accompanied by more swearing. I opened my eyes and looked automatically at Caitlin's bed beside me. It was empty.
I stood up quickly, close to panic, before I saw her bandaged hand rise into view and clutch ineffectually at the sheets. They slithered off the bed as I watched, taking the blanket with them. The swearing intensified but it was somewhat muffled. I realised I knew the angry voice and I'd never been so relieved to hear it.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I walked around the bed to where I could see Caitlin, thinking that she'd probably just fallen out of bed. Instead, she lay face down, her feet closest to the bed, as she struggled to get up with her damaged hands. It looked like she'd tripped and fallen flat on her face, before she'd pulled the bed linen down on top of herself.
I knelt down to pull the blanket away from her head, thanking whatever helpful deity had made the linen fall so that it covered most of her.
Caitlin was both angry and frustrated. "I can't walk and I can't get up."
"Here, let me help you." I made good use of the blanket and sheet to keep some separation between her body and mine, tucking the whole mess around her as I picked her up.
"Thank you," she said quickly, biting her lip, still looking a little flustered.
"What happened?"
She hesitated a moment before she spoke. "I got out of bed, tried to take a step and it hurt. Then I fell." She frowned. "I can't walk if it hurts that much."
"Perhaps you should stay in bed and rest then," I suggested.
"But I needed... I was trying to get to the bathroom." She wouldn't look at me as she said it.
Understanding her embarrassment, I offered casually, "I can carry you in there, if you like."
"Thank you." Her gratitude was fervent.
I looked from her to the bathroom. Oh, shit. This time I'd have to do it with just her and the skimpy nightie. She'd scream for sure.
I lifted her up and quickly carried her to the toilet in the ensuite bathroom, conscious of the hospital-issue nightdress she still wore and the amount of skin it didn't cover. I couldn't put her down fast enough, praying with every step that she wouldn't scream.
I almost shuddered with relief when I let go of her, but I tried to control myself so she wouldn't see my reaction and take it the wrong way. Even injured, Caitlin was still one hell of a temptation –
pretty in all the right ways.
Wrong ways, I told myself as I turned my back and walked to the bathroom doorway to give her some privacy. She was damn fine in all the wrong ways and it'd be really great if she had some clothes to cover up with so I wouldn't be tempted any more than I had been already.
After a moment's thought, I called back over my shoulder, "If you want, I could ask my sister to drop by your house the next time she comes in to see me and she could pick up some of your own clothes for you to wear." Please say yes, please say yes...
She was silent for a moment before she replied, "Thank you, but I think with all the dressings and stuff, plus the trouble I'd have putting on or taking off clothes, I'm better off with hospital issue."
Shit. "Fair enough." I nodded, trying not to think of her wearing a backless nightdress with no underwear. Especially once the dressings came off. I'd just have to control my thoughts better. That's it. Not difficult at all. Hesitantly, I added, "Let me know when you're done and need my help again."
"I... I'm not done, but I may need your help." Her voice faded to a mortified whisper. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her pawing uselessly at the toilet paper dispenser, unable to grasp anything with her bandaged hands. She bit down hard on her lip in an effort to stop herself from crying.
Oh, fuck. This was just painful to watch.
"Did you know," I asked her as I crossed the bathroom quickly, ripping a wad of toilet paper out of the dispenser and pressing it