Chapter 4

Blakely

“Mrs. Carroll, he said he’d be right with you. I think it’d be best if you just wait out here,” Aaron’s secretary called.

            I’d waited fifteen minutes before making my way past her toward into Aaron’s office and throwing the door open.

            “I’m going to have to call you back, something just barged into my office,” he smirked before ending the call he was on. “The beautiful Blakely. To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked as he kicked his feet up on his desk and reclined back in his chair.

            “Oh, I don’t know, Aaron. Maybe it has something to do with your wife being missing for two days and we still haven’t heard anything from or about her!” He wasn’t even worried about her. I spoke to Taylor multiple times throughout the day. The last time I’d heard from her was when she was meeting him for dinner.

            “Relax, Blake, she’s fine. She said she’s leaving me—again,” he laughed.

            “What?”

            “She’s mad I didn’t show up for dinner. She said that was low, even for me. Funny, right?”

            I didn’t know why I was so surprised. Aaron had turned into the biggest asshole, a selfish SOB; smug and undeserving of Taylor’s affection. This couldn’t be right though. If Taylor had decided to leave him I’d be the first person to know. Instead, she hadn’t answered my calls or texts and that never happened.

            “I guess we’re finally over. Fine by me though. It’s actually about time. This has gone on long enough,” he added.

            “Aaron, do you know how ridiculous that sounds? I haven’t heard from Taylor. She’d ignore the hell out of you, but she would always talk to me.”

            “Well, I guess things change. Is there anything else?” he asked before picking his phone up.

            I hoped like hell he was right. She should have left his ass months ago, but none of this sat well with me. It didn’t feel right. I’d known Taylor for years. She wouldn’t do this; at least not without telling me anything. I tried calling her again as I left Aaron’s office, but it went straight to voicemail. I was about to leave her a message when I got a text from her saying she was okay, she just needed time alone. I sent a response saying that was bullshit, but she never responded to that. When I told her I was going to file a missing person’s report, she told me I was overreacting as usual and I needed to back off.  I had a tendency to exert my will on others, so maybe I was overreacting. Regardless, I told her she had forty-eight hours to be alone before I went postal. Again, she hadn’t responded. She was so going to get a punch when she finally decided to show her face.

Taylor

“Are we finally waking up?”

            I didn’t recognize the voice, but I was glad it was a female. Something tightened around my arm and I opened my eyes to see what it was. A blood pressure cuff. I attempted to raise my hand to block the bright light overhead, but an unbearable pain ripped through me, bringing out a whimper and I quickly put it back down.

            “Take it easy, move slowly. I’m going to give you something for the pain, okay?” she said.

            “Where am I?” I asked as I took in my surroundings. I thought I was in a hospital. That would be the most logical place, but this looked like someone’s home, a bedroom. She didn’t look like a doctor, but the cool metal of the stethoscope she placed on my chest indicated otherwise.

            “You’re safe. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

            Deep breaths hurt. Talking hurt. My mouth and throat felt like sandpaper. “Water,” I said as I shook my head no. A cup filled with ice and water instantly appeared and a straw was guided to my mouth. I’d taken three big gulps before I realized both of her hands were preoccupied with examining me. Where the hell did this water come from? Panic set in as I took notice of the gigantic guy standing next to me. How the hell did he get there? Pushing the cup away, I gritted my teeth against the pain and tried to move away from him.

            “It’s okay. He’s the one who helped you, he’s not going to hurt you,” she said as she held me down.

            Ignoring her I searched for an escape. There were two windows and a door. All closed and probably locked. Where the hell was I?

            “You have to calm down, you’re very fragile right now and you could upset your injuries more,” she pleaded, still trying to force me to lie back down.

            “Who are you? Where am I?” I questioned. I knew neither of them. Why should I trust them?

            “I’ll leave. We just need you to calm down and stop screaming,” the guy said.

            Was I screaming? My eyes flickered to him and followed his movements to the door. “What am I doing here?”

            “You’ve been in a coma. We’re just trying to make sure you’re okay,” she answered.

            I stopped resisting. A coma? How long had I been here? Where the hell was here? I didn’t know which one of them to question or focus on, so my eyes darted back and forth between the two.

            “I know you have a lot of questions. If you just calm down, we’ll answer them for you,” he said.

            I guess I should focus on him. “How long have I been here?”

            “A week,” he said.

            Nothing more followed. He watched me expectantly, patiently waiting for another question. Did I really need to ask?

“Why am I here and who the hell are you? If I’ve been in a coma for a week, why am I not in a hospital? Is no one looking for me?” If he was telling the truth then there should have been some sort of manhunt going on right now. Aaron couldn’t be that coldhearted toward me…could he?

            “What’s the last thing you remember?” the woman asked.

            I tried to think back. Thinking hurt. How was that even possible? As I stared at him it all came flooding back. I experienced it all over again; the pain, the humiliation, the fear. “I was attacked…I know you.” A single brow lifted as he watched me and I shivered. That gaze, those eyes. Dark and predatory. Ridiculously intense. I felt like any moment now he would pounce, but that made no sense. His arms hung loose at his sides, shoulders broad and legs spread shoulder width apart. His stance was wholly nonthreatening, yet his aura screamed danger. I didn’t exactly know him, but I saw him that night. He was at the restaurant with a group of other people. It looked like some sort of business meeting. While watching him, I remembered thinking of Aaron standing me up. Aaron. “Nobody’s looking for me?” I couldn’t wrap my head around that idea. That couldn’t be right. It was impossible that I’d been gone a week and no one cared. I was kind of popular…or at least I thought I was.

            “Yes, but I sent Aaron a text after he left a voicemail apologizing about dinner,” she said.

            “A text saying what?” I asked as I looked at her.

            “No real husband would stand his wife up on their anniversary,” he answered.

            Hearing it from him gave me a numb feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was one thing for me to think it to myself, but something completely different for another man to say it aloud. Especially when it was this man. This…godof a man. I stared at him again and found myself in that moment where you couldn’t really describe how a person looked because handsome wouldn’t do them justice, but beautiful would be too feminine. He was tall, well over six feet. At least 6’5”. His skin was smooth and dark, chocolate at its finest; wisps of a tattoo peeked out from behind the collar of his shirt. I was sure that beneath the long-sleeved shirt he wore, he would be covered in them. Muscles…oh-em-gee muscles – the kind that screamed I play every sport known to man, eat healthy, and spend two hours daily in the gym; not the kind that made you wonder if they were too big or you’d be grossed out by veins popping out everywhere, but a perfect physique, Greek god worthy. His lips…sweet Jesus, those lips. They looked pillow soft, outlined by a perfect goatee and mustache. He has dreads; not the nasty, when’s the last time you washed your damn hair kind, but the neat, good looking kind that hung just below his shoulder blades. Thick eyebrows and unruly eyelashes framed jet black eyes. Jet black eyes? That couldn’t be right. “How are your eyes black?” His facial expression let me know I probably said that out loud.

“Right. I’m the one who should be questioned about their eyes,” he said.

His lips commanded my attention again as I watched them move. I thought Aaron had the sexiest lips I’d ever seen, but he had successfully squashed that.

“Her eyes are beautiful. It’s called heterochromia iridis. Is that hereditary or is it an injury?” she said with a smile.

The smile was probably meant to reassure me, but she just asked a question I have no intention of answering. Not that I could if I even wanted too. I know nothing about my family. No parent, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, nothing. I’ve been passed from foster home to foster home for as long as I could remember. Everything that I have, all that I am is because I made it possible. I’m literally self-made. Nothing was ever given to me. Not one single gift and this mixed set of blue-green and brown eyes will never be considered that, especially if they came from parents who didn’t give a damn to at least try to raise me. I cast my gaze back to him. “Who are you?”

            “Isaac,” he said.

            Again, nothing followed. So that was it? I thought they were supposed to answer my questions if I calmed down.

            “I’m Michal, Mimi for short, this is my brother Izza. You were beat pretty badly and you’ve been out for about a week, but nothing’s permanent. You’re recovering well, although you’ve got a long way to go,” she said.

            That still didn’t explain why I was here, how they knew Aaron’s name. Why they listened to my voicemails and sent a fake text…technically. “Where the hell am I? What am I doing here?” I knew this was considered a crime in all fifty states.

            “We just needed to make sure you were okay,” Mimi answered.

            Okay, that was enough of this. Cryptic was not a good look for them. “I’m leaving,” I said as I forced myself to sit up. Pain from my chest and my side quickly forced me back down and I cried out. Why does it hurt so bad?

            “You gotta relax. You’ll hurt yourself more,” he said as he rushed to move closer to me.

            I tensed up and he stopped short.

            “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

            “Why am I here?”

            “You’re hurt,” he said.

            “No shit, ever heard of a hospital?”

            He smiled. My anger subsided instantly. His smile was magnificent, just as glorious as his body. Lethality lurked behind it. As impressive as he was, there was something barely concealed within those black eyes. Something deadly…dangerous.

“You’re in good hands,” he said.

My anger came back. “I need a doctor! Why am I here and why the hell are you smiling?”

“Dr. Michal Crocetti at your service, ma’am,” Mimi said with a flourish.

He smiled again. Was this a joke? Were they trying to be funny? He puts his hands up as though he was surrendering and took a few steps in my direction. When I didn’t protest he kept coming. Mimi stood up as though she was going to move away. I wanted to reach for her, but I knew it would hurt and in spite of what I’d already done I didn’t want to cause myself any pain. “Stop,” I said. They both paused. When she realized I was talking to her she sat down again.

“Close enough, baby bro,” she warned him.

His smile hadn’t wavered. He folded his arms across the wide expanse of his chest and didn’t move.

“How is this funny?” I asked.

“It’s not. It’s cute though,” he countered.

Cute?? “There’s nothing cute about this!”

“Izza, stop it. Don’t tease her,” Mimi said.

“Okay, sweetheart, here’s the situation. You’re here for two reasons. One, hospitals mean cops and I’m pretty allergic to them. Two, the fact that the guys who attacked you are currently…indisposed at this time and for the foreseeable future would mean more cops – which leads back to my allergies. So, here’s the better option for everyone,” he explained, ending with a hand gesture towards Mimi.

I laughed and looked at her. She didn’t laugh with me. In fact, he was no longer smiling. Wait, he was being serious? And what the hell does indisposed mean?