Chapter 4

CLAIRE

I smile back half-heartedly. “Hello, Zeke, nice to meet you. But you walked into the wrong room—”

“Claire, I know you're angry with me.” He cuts me off, and before I know it, he's beside my bed.

What the fuck.

“Hey, stay back.” I press my back into the headboard, instinctively pulling the thin blanket up to my chest. "I don't know a Zeke. You need to leave."

His smile vanishes, eyes narrowing. “I get it. You hate me; I didn't call, I didn't know about the accident—”

“I think you're confused,” I say, pushing myself up the headboard as if it could somehow shield me, protect me. The guy's giving me strange vibes. Oddly familiar vibes. And the way he keeps coming closer.

“I'm not talking about this accident; I'm talking about the other one.“

“Okay, I'm calling the nurse.”

“No.”

“Nurse! Doctor! Janitor! Anybody!” I scream, and the headache hits me like a bitch, dropping my pitch till it's only a whisper. My vision blurs, my head spins, and before I realize it, his face is hovering over mine. His hands on my head, patting it gently. Those warm gray eyes staring back at me, softening into something almost...concerned? Why?

“Hey, easy, easy," he murmurs, his accent less harsh now that he's whispering. His touch, though gentle, feels completely wrong—an unnerving familiarity from a total stranger. Gosh, he's good-looking.

I try to shake my head, to clear the ringing in my ears, but his large hand holds me steady.

"Get off me!" I push weakly at his chest, but it’s like pushing a wall.

"Listen to me, Claire," he says, leaning in closer, his warm breath fanning my ear. "I'm not a threat. The accident I was talking about was the one five years ago—”

“You've got the wrong person.” I snap back.

“Oh God.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Don't tell me you have amnesia.“

“No, my memories are completely fine, and you're not in it. Thank God, can you go now? Where are all the people working here? Doc—”

“Claire?”

We both turn to the door.

Levi is halfway in, eyes darting between us, confused. “Who is he?”

Zeke stands. “Who are you?”

“No, who are you?” Levi asks, walking past him and wrapping his hands around me. I bury myself in his torso, hiding my face, but can't stop stealing glances at him. Zeke.

Zeke doesn't reply. His eyes travel from me to Levi and back. I catch the way his lips twist, eyes narrowing, like he's disappointed or heartbroken. I don't know how to place the expression on his face.

Then out of nowhere, “I'm nobody. Sorry for bothering you.”

“Is there a problem?” A voice cuts in from the door. It's a nurse. Oh, she finally thinks it's time to appear. She steps in, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, looking first at Zeke, then at Levi and me.

Levi immediately tightens his embrace, pulling me completely into his side. "No problem at all, Nurse. This gentleman just got his rooms mixed up, didn't you?" He glares at Zeke, a silent warning passing between them.

Zeke ignores Levi completely, his eyes staying fixed on me, so intense I hear my own guilty conscience.

He finally answers the nurse. "No problem," Zeke says, his voice now flat and perfectly courteous. "I was just checking on the patient I brought in. I was worried. Needed to make sure her boyfriend was here and she was settled."

The nurse frowns. “Boyfriend? I thought you said you were her boyfriend.“

Zeke didn't stutter. “Yeah, I did, and it's true. It's just that she has two boyfriends now.“

“What?” I gently push Levi to the side to get a good look at his face after he said that.

Levi is as confused as I was. He's even looking at me, searching for some kind of eye-language explanation, which I'm not giving to him.

The nurse continues. “She's stable now. You can wait in the lobby—"

"I'll take my leave," he says smoothly, never breaking eye contact with me. He gives me one last look—a cold rage directed at Levi and something uncomfortably protective directed at me—before turning and walking out the door.

I watch him go, feeling a thousand degrees of heat radiate off Levi beside me. Levi was here earlier. But Zeke brought me in. The figure hovering over me, the unfamiliar rough voice in the wreckage... it was… him?

“Do you need anything?” The nurse asks, and I shake my head, dismissing her.

"What was that about, Claire?" Levi demands the moment the nurse leaves. "What did that man want? And why did he say he brought you in? Boyfriend?"

“You're not in a position to question me right now, Levi." I spit, flashing him a lopsided smile he does well to understand, and he probably knows it's time to back off. Letting him wrap his hands around me shouldn't give him the impression that I forgive him. It's not that easy. He's in for a lot of cold shoulders and a dose of reality that's going to curdle his pretty face.

I immediately yank my arm away as if his touch were toxic. He recoils, the shock in his eyes turning instantly to something dark and ugly.

"Don't give me that look," I snap, ignoring the dizzy rush from moving too fast. "You think that pout works now? You look pathetic. You're standing there demanding answers when you should be explaining yourself. You treated me like an idiot who couldn't handle the truth. Now, tell me about Sam. Is she your ex-wife, or your ex-stepmother? You couldn't even keep that lie straight, you spineless disaster."

“Jesus Christ, Claire!" Levi recoils as if I'd slapped him. "Don't do this. Don't say things like that."

"Don't say things like that." I mimic, rolling my eyes. “You don't know what you are. You are a spineless manipulator—”

“Did you ever stop to think if I was the victim in all of this?” He cuts me off, but I'm too angry to care. His attempt to garner sympathy only fuels my rage.

"A victim?" I scoff. "You're a victim of your own pathological lies, Levi. The only one whose life was nearly ended here is mine! You hid your son's mother; if she were a normal human being, I would have been more forgiving. But that woman—”

“I know she's a terrible human being; that's why I tried to keep you out of it.” He interrupts me again.

“Well, you didn't do a good job. She paid you a visit, didn't she? And you locked me in a room like a prisoner!"

“I panicked, and I'm sorry.“

“That won't cut it!" I spit. “An apology won't cut it.“

He throws his hands up in defeat, stepping back from the bed. "She's not my ex-wife, but she's Graham's mother.“

I frown. “What?“

“Yes, we didn't get married; she is my father's wife, and after his death, she's been trying to cling to my family name and money for a decade! She signed a prenup, and I told you she was dead because she's unstable! She causes drama, she demands money, she threatens to take Graham! And yes, she paid me a visit! She wanted…” He pause and sigh…

Yeah, that's it; the well has dried. No more secrets to share; he's crossed his limits.