Bailey
I FOLLOWED A nurse back to the x-ray room in the medical offices attached to the hospital. Brock was close behind, but giving me a little space, considering I had been chilly toward him. Dr. Stone had requested an image of my arm to see how it was healing, so Brock drew the short straw to drive me.
It had been two weeks and four days since my world had been turned upside down, two weeks and two days since I’d been sequestered ‘for my own protection,’ and two weeks since I’d bared my soul to Brock.
About a week into my hiding, Brock had set up a call with my parents. My mother was melodramatic (no real sound of concern, just a lot of wailing), and my father was detached. Brock and his merry band of captors had come up with a pretty lame story that I had flown to Aspen with a new boyfriend and had lost my cell phone, so the number I was calling from was the new one. He seemed happy with that…well, not happy, but not concerned, which was the same in my opinion.
When I hung up, Brock had been pissed. When I’d pressed him as to why, he’d noted that they weren’t worried.
“My mom is worried,” I lied. I wasn’t interested in his observations when it came to my parents. Regardless of the fact he was probably trained to notice these things.
“No, I don’t think she is.” He rubbed his forehead. “I think she’s disingenuous.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Babe―”
“Stop calling me ‘babe’!” I snapped.
“Sorry.” He sighed. “Look. Parents who keep a woman on as tight a leash as you, don’t just worry, they watch.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I have more that I have to figure out.”
Not knowing what to make of his words, and with Brock looking like he could kill someone, I dropped the conversation. I wasn’t interested in knowing why he was so pissed, or in getting any more emotionally involved with him.
“Have a seat,” the receptionist said, pulling me out of my thoughts, when I walked up to the desk. “And we’ll call you back.”
“Thanks.”
It didn’t take long before the tech called for me and led me down the hallway, Brock following. He stood outside while the woman took the x-ray, and then walked with me to Dr. Stone’s office on the second floor.
I was met by another medical person who led me down to exam room two, where Brock waited with me until the doctor arrived. Once Dr. Stone greeted us, Brock left the room without another word.
“How’s the arm?” Dr. Stone asked as he washed his hands.
“Good. No more pain,” I said. “Just itchy as hell.”
“That’s to be expected. What about the ribs?”
“Not quite as good.”
He smiled, typing furiously on his keyboard. “Okay, let’s look at these pictures and see what we see.” After a few minutes, he faced me with a smile. “It looks great, Bailey. The bones are fusing in the right order. I think you can get the cast off in about a month. The ribs might take a little more time, but overall, you’re healing a lot faster than expected.”
“Thanks, Dr. Stone. I appreciate it.”
He nodded. “Do you have any questions or concerns?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m good.”
“You have my number, so feel free to call me. But if you have any medically-related questions, you should call the main number.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, but then frowned in confusion. “Wait. What else would I call you for?”
“Whatever,” he said. “If you have any questions or something doesn’t feel right, feel free to call me on my cell.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
The fact my doctor was giving me his personal cell phone number seemed weird to me, but he wasn’t being creepy, so I chalked it up to him being Dallas’s brother and being nice. I mean, let’s be honest, this entire situation was weird and creepy.
“You’re all set,” Dr. Stone said, pulling open the door and I nodded and walked out.
“You okay?” Brock asked, pushing away from the wall.
“Yep. Got about another month to go.” I headed down the hall, but found my arm grasped and my body turned to face Brock.
“You look freaked. Did something happen?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m always freaked,” I said with a sigh. “I’m pretty sure this might be my permanent expression for a while.”
Brock frowned, but didn’t ask again as he guided me to the elevators, finding one open. We stepped inside, and the doors closed just as Brock said, “It’s gonna be okay.”
I ignored him. “Are you with me tonight or is Dallas?”
“Me tonight, Dallas tomorrow,” he said. “Is that okay?”
“Yep,” I said.
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
For the most part, Brock left me to my thoughts as we drove from the medical offices at the hospital back to the safe house. Brock was on constant alert, scanning the road and rearview mirror, watching for tails. This meant I had a few precious moments to think without him invading my space.
“What’s up, Bailey?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I can tell somethin’s bothering you.”
“Listen, Einstein, I’m in a permanent state of being bothered,” I ground out. “I’m just trying to deal, okay?”
“Are you worried about your arm? What did Alec say? Are you in pain? Do you need me to call him?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to fall for the concern in his voice. “I already told you. It’s all good. I have his cell…if I have any questions, I’ll call him.”
Brock’s face went lethal. “Sorry?”
“Sorry, what?”
“He gave you his number?”
“It wasn’t weird,” I said. “He just wanted to make sure I could get hold of him if I needed to.”
“Fuck!” The light turned green, but Brock didn’t move and received a honk from behind. He hit the accelerator and sped through the light.
“Brock, slow down.”
He did and took a deep breath. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Of what?”
“Alec. I’ll take care of it.”
“There’s nothing to take care of,” I snapped in frustration.
He didn’t respond as we drove into the quiet neighborhood of the safe house. He hit the garage door button and maneuvered the SUV inside. I undid my seatbelt and pushed open the door.
“Wait,” he warned. “You know the drill.”
Yes, I did know the drill. I knew the drill too well. I shouldn’t know the drill. I should be looking for a job, or heading home, or all of the above.
Brock drew his gun and pushed open the door to the house. His body rigid, his face contorted in a way I’d never seen it before. I followed him inside; unclear as to why he was so pissed. He did a quick safety check, secured the windows and doors, and then radioed to Dallas we were inside, and all was clear.
I made my way to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “Can I get you anything?”
“No,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
He walked out the back and I flopped on the sofa with a frustrated groan.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Brock stormed back through the door. He still looked irked, but not as mad as he was before.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I was currently slicing an apple at the kitchen island.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to ask questions you don’t want an honest answer to?” he challenged.
“Fine, Brock. Whatever,” I snapped, and threw the knife into the sink.
He closed the distance between us and took my arm gently.
“What?” I asked.
“Fuck!”
“Well, that’s helpful,” I grumbled, and tried to pull my arm away.
Without warning, his mouth was on mine and I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck and opening my mouth for better access. His tongue thrust inside as I slid my fingers into his hair, but all too soon, Brock broke the kiss. “Fuck!”
I stared up at him in shock.
He settled his hands on top of his head and took a deep breath. “I’m totally fucking this up.”
“What?”
“You, this. Us.”
“Us?” I raised my hands and shook my head. My heart was slamming against my chest, sure I’d heard him incorrectly. “I hadn’t realized there was an ‘us.’”
“Me neither,” he grumbled.
“Well, you sound really happy about whatever it is you think you’ve ‘fucked up,’ so if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sleep now.”
“Wait.” He slid his hand to the back of my neck and smiled. “I’m being a class A jerk, Bailey, and I’m sorry about that. I guess I just didn’t expect you, or the feelings that came along with that, and I’m processing the hell out of all of this the absolute wrong way.”
“I don’t know if class A is totally correct…class D maybe.”
“You’re gorgeous. You know that?” His eyes softened as he stared at me. “But that’s not the best part about you.”
“It’s not?”
He shook his head. “You are stronger than any person I’ve ever met, and you have this innate ability to see the good in people, but when you see the bad, you don’t bullshit yourself into ignoring it.”
I blushed. “You see all that, huh?”
“Yeah, Bailey, I do,” he smiled. “You put your life on the line for two kids you’ve never met and you’re genuinely nice to people, including me, despite the fact I’m being a class D dickhead.”
I bit back a smile. “Well, you’re not being one right now.”
Brock ran his thumb over my bottom lip and then leaned down and kissed me. I gasped, which gave him access to more of me. His tongue slipped inside, and I tried not to groan in ecstasy. Good God the man could kiss.
I pushed at his shoulders, good sense warring with my libido. “Is this why you’ve been wound up tight over the past week or so?”
“Have I?”
I nodded, and he leaned down to kiss me again. I pushed at his shoulders, although with a little less vigor than before. “I…I don’t think this is a great idea.”
He frowned as he gave me a curt nod. “I’m so sorry.”
I frowned. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because I’m here to protect you. Not fuckin’ accost you.”
I sighed. “Well, there is that.”
He raised his hands as if to surrender, then ran them through his hair. “It won’t happen again.”
Turning on his heel, he headed back outside, and I was left standing in the middle of the room confused and a little horny.