Medicine Man (Page 41)

But no. Nothing. I’m still clueless about what happened to him at his previous job.

I’m still clueless about him.

“Well, then I absolve you. It was temporary insanity, wasn’t it? Everybody makes mistakes. It doesn’t mean you have to sit through an investigation for just a kiss.”

His hooded eyes and his clamped jaw are the last things I see of him as I walk away.

I take it back.

Simon Blackwood is a fucking asshole.

***

I used to have a pet goldfish.

Her name was Hedwig, after the pet snow owl of Harry Potter. My mom got it for me for my twelfth birthday, and I loved Hedwig to pieces.

In fact, for the longest time she was my only friend, aside from my mom. One night I couldn’t sleep, and so I kept chatting with Hedwig, telling her about all the things I’d like to do but couldn’t ever find the energy to. And suddenly, it hit me.

She never talked back. She simply circled the glass tank over and over, blinking her eyes and gaping her mouth. I thought maybe that was her way of communicating and I wasn’t capable of understanding it. Just like she wasn’t capable of understanding me.

What the hell was I doing with her, then?

Next morning, I decided to set her free so she could find her friends. It wasn’t fair that I kept her for myself when she could have a chance to meet people like her. At least one of us should be happy.

I’m missing Hedwig tonight.

I wonder what happened to her. Is she alive? How many years do goldfish live, anyway?

I hope she found her friends. I wanna tell her that I did too. I finally found my friends. My kind of people. I finally found a man, as well. He’s kind and sexy and so fucking handsome. He looks like a king and kisses like a beast.

But he thinks our kiss was a mistake.

I’m watching the rain from my bed, my knees drawn up and my back propped against the wall. The book he fixed for me is in my lap and I’m hugging it, like I would hug him. The night shift nurse who does hourly checks just left. She saw me through the square window on the door and found me awake so she stopped by for a little chat. I’m pretty sure she’ll put on her report that I wasn’t sleeping even though I’m on sleep meds, and a certain someone will hear about it.

Whatever. I don’t care.

I’m drawing shapes on the misty window with my finger. I refuse to write his name, even though that’s what I want to do. I refuse to be that pathetic. At least, tonight. I figure there’s going to be a lot of lonely nights for me in the future. I’m saving pitifulness for later.

I watch the rain pouring down on the screen in rivulets. There’s a storm out tonight, thick and loud.

 Even though the sounds on the inside are drowned by the sounds on the outside, I still hear the door of my room opening. The air inside the four walls changes and I whip my eyes to see who it is, terrified.

The shape standing at my door is tall and large. It’s almost blocking the dim lighting of the hallway, causing my small room to plunge mostly into darkness.

Even so, I can tell who it is. I’m pathetic after all, because I’ve memorized the outline of his body and his rainy-weather smell.

Simon Blackwood.

What the… Am I dreaming? Did I conjure him up?

I’m huddled by the wall, gripping my knees, trying to breathe, or rather, not breathe this fast. If I’m dreaming, then this has to be a nightmare. Why else would he come here, if not to torture me, torment me, and break me down?

Without turning around, he closes the door behind him. The soft click of it is a jarring force I need to realize that this is real life.

He really is here. Inside my room. In the middle of the night.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper-hiss, throwing the book aside, springing up from the bed.

“You didn’t show up for our meeting tonight,” he says in a low voice.

A voice that makes me jump.

Even though the rain outside is chaotic, his voice seems louder. His voice seems like a declaration of some sort.

A proclamation that he’s here.

Holy fucking shit.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I repeat my question, although on a whisper, ignoring his statement. “Who said you could come into my room?”

Technically, this isn’t the first time he’s been here. Last time was in broad daylight and everyone knew he was in my room. Doesn’t he remember though? Beth saw us. Not to mention, we almost got caught kissing in his office.

Stupid, fucking phenomenal kiss.

Simon takes a step toward me and my eyes jump to the little window on my door. I’m half-expecting to see an outraged night nurse or even Beth standing there, peeking inside, drawing all the conclusions – wrong conclusions – about his unexpected visit.

“I was waiting for you.”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you show up?”

“What does… I don’t…” He walks closer to me and this time I hear a creak that makes me jump. “Oh my God. Stop. What are you doing? Don’t move. This fucking hospital is falling apart, okay? Just don’t move.”

Of course, he doesn’t listen.

Of course, he wants to kill me. This is what it is.

He’s here to kill me. He’s a murderer. I wouldn’t put it past him because he is already stealing my breath away. He is already a thief. There’s a high likelihood that he’s a cold-hearted killer, too.

He keeps walking closer until I feel the heat radiating out of his body.

God, he’s hot. In temperature and in other ways. But I’m not thinking about the other ways right now.

I won’t.

“Do you think this is a game?” he snaps.

“What?”

I squint at him, trying to discern his expression. There’s no moonlight tonight; the rain is covering every inch of the ground and the sky. And the hallway light is dim, not to mention, this reckless man in my room is blocking it with his giant shoulders. So I can’t really see anything, other than his shining dark eyes and the shadowed lines of his face.

“Answer me, Willow,” he commands. “Do you think this is a game? Do you think your health is a game?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why the fuck didn’t you show up for the meeting?”

Is he really asking me that? After he pulled a ‘temporary insanity’ clause on me?

“Because I didn’t wanna see you,” I snap back. “Can you go now?”

I swear I see a pulse on his jaw, as if he’s angry. Then he shakes his head, sighs sharply and asks, “Why were you crying?”

“What?”

“I saw you through the window.”

“You’ve been spying on me through the window?” I hiss, trying to keep it down, wiping the tears that I didn’t know I was shedding in the first place.

“Spying is a strong word. I was trying to check up on you.”

I raise my hand in a stop-right-there gesture, blowing at my bangs. “I don’t even wanna address the fact that this is a gross invasion of privacy. Because something much more drastic is at stake right now. Remember what happened yesterday back at your office? And before that? Beth saw us. There’re eyes everywhere.”

“Beth’s not here.”

“What?” I shake my head at his casual comment. “We have hourly checks, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“The nurse thinks I’m in the supply closet and the check isn’t for another fifty-six minutes.”