Damian

 

I opened my eyes and saw Cara standing at the foot of the bed, jotting down some notes on my chart. I'd always thought she was superhot back in high school. But now – she was ten times more stunning as a grown woman. A hundred times.

 

But it was more than that. She just had this presence about her that was absolutely compelling. I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly, but seeing her again, after all these years – it really sparked something in me. Something I don't recall ever feeling before. I felt drawn to her.

 

Or maybe it was just all the pain meds in my system.

 

“Thank you,” I said.

 

She gave a slight start at the sound of my voice and then looked at me.

 

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

 

“You didn't wake me. Can I have some water?”

 

“Just a little bit.”

 

She set the chart down and poured a small cup of water. I winced as I sat up, the pain shooting through my body making me feel like I was on fire. Cara put the cup to my lips and helped me drink, pulling the cup away before I'd gotten my fill.

 

“Not too much—”

 

“I know,” I said. “You'll send in some ice chips.”

 

Her smile was soft and, if possible, made her even more beautiful.

 

“I know how much you love those ice chips.”

 

I laughed softly. “Can't get enough of 'em. And thank you. Seriously.”

 

“No need to thank me. Ice chips aren't all that exciting.”

 

I shook my head. “No, that's not what I meant. Thank you for taking such good care of me. For saving my life.”

 

“Oh, Dr. Hightower is the one responsible for patching you up,” she said. “I was only there to assist.”

 

“Yeah well, thank you anyway, Cara.”

 

“Just doing my job.”

 

I laughed softly again. “You don't take appreciation very well, do you?” I commented. “I bet you're even worse with compliments.”

 

She smiled. “Can't say I do.”

 

“That's a shame,” I replied. “You deserve them.”

 

She cleared her throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “So, how are you feeling?”

 

“Like I got hit by a bus.”

 

“That's normal. Nothing to worry about.”

 

I gave her a grin. “Normal, huh? Had the same experience the last time you took four bullets?”

 

She looked down, and I realized that she'd taken it the wrong way. Just when I thought she was starting to warm up a little bit, I had to go and stick my foot in my mouth. The temperature in the room felt like it had just dropped twenty degrees and that chasm between she and I only widened and deepened.

 

“Sorry,” I said. “I was just kidding. I didn't mean anything by it.”

 

“It's okay,” she said quickly. “On a scale of one to ten, where is your pain at?”

 

Gone was the smile and in its place was Cara's professional, all business face.

 

I sighed. “Probably about a seven.”

 

She nodded and made a quick note on the chart. “I'll make sure we adjust your pain meds to compensate for it.”

 

“Listen, Cara—”

 

She hung the chart on the end of my bed. “Now that you're awake, I'm going to have to tell the police,” she said. “They'll be coming to talk to you today, I'd imagine.”

 

“Wonderful. Looking forward to it.”

 

Her eyes softened – somewhat. “What are you going to tell them?”

 

I shrugged. “Have no idea yet.”

 

“Here's a novel idea. Why not tell them the truth?”

 

“Because the truth is… complicated.”

 

“Complicated?” She sounded somewhat shocked. “Damian, somebody tried to kill you. They put four bullets into you.”

 

My grin was rueful. “And if I talk to the cops, next time I get eight,” I said. “Nobody likes a snitch.”

 

“Damian, this isn't a joke,” she snapped. “Somebody tried to kill you. And if you don't tell them who it was, what if they manage to kill you next time? Or kill somebody else?”

 

“I'll handle it, Cara.”

 

She snorted derisively. But she didn't understand. She couldn't. She didn't move in my world and had no understanding of what life in an MC was like. You didn't snitch on somebody like Ray Mendoza and the Fantasmas. Not unless you really wanted to end up dead.

 

But there was going to be retribution. You could count on that. I wasn't going to tell Cara that though. It wasn't her business or her concern. Although she was a very intelligent woman and I guess it sort of went without saying that somebody was going to pay for what they'd done to me.

 

She looked at me with her arms folded over her chest, and it felt like she could see right through me – knew that I was already coming up with a plan to pay Mendoza back in kind. And I could see that she didn't like it one bit.

 

“When I heard you went into the Marines, I really thought you were getting your shit straight,” she snapped. “Guess I was wrong. Cops should be here in an hour or so.”

 

She turned, and I watched her storm out of my room, not understanding why she was so upset.