Saving Sophie: Book Seven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series (30 page)

“Sure.” Stone stood, taking the chair at Sophie’s side.

Nurse Karri came over, occupying the space Stone just abandoned, shining a light in Sophie’s eyes, blinding her. “Looking good. Now for those ribs.” She slid the hospital gown to the side, exposing the dark purple bruising along the entire left side of her ribcage.

Stone sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Jesus Christ.”

“Mmmhm,” the nurse agreed as she gently pressed her fingers against Sophie’s ribs.

Sophie fisted her hand in the blankets, waiting for the torment to end.

“Definitely some nasty business, honey. Let’s have you take a deep breath.”

Sophie nibbled her lip, hating the idea of complying. “Are you sure I have to?”

“As sure as I know my name.”

“Okay.” She swallowed, slammed her eyes shut, and inhaled deeply, wincing, grabbing hold of the bed as her ribcage expanded.

“Easy, Soph.” Stone took her hand, stroking, chasing away the worst of the agony with his gentle support.

“I know that’s uncomfortable, but that’s the best way to keep infections from settling in your chest.” Karri patted Sophie’s shoulder. “Can I get you anything?”

“Actually, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, who am I to keep you from the throne? Go ahead and stand, and I’ll make sure you stay upright.” The cheerful woman winked.

Sophie smiled, trying to be brave as she glanced at Stone, taking her hand from his so she could grip the bedrail and pull herself fully upright. She bit her lip, whimpering with the sharp, radiating throb. “Oh God.”

“With bruising like that, you’re going to be
very
sore, Ms. Sophie. I’d count on it for several days.”

She held Stone’s unblinking stare as she got to her feet, gritting her teeth with the torture, closing her eyes against a wave of dizziness.

“You okay, there?” Karri grabbed her arm, steadying her.

“Yes. Yes I’m doing just fine.” She took several steps toward the bathroom, needing to show herself and Stone that she would be able to handle her injuries on her own. She made it halfway before she had to support herself against the wall, slightly winded and sweating. “See? I’m more than all right,” she said to Stone as he sat back in his chair, his eyebrow raised and his ankles crossed. “Go on home and get some sleep.” She gave him the best smile she could. “Thank you so much for everything.”

His gaze turned hot. “Sophie—”

“I’m tired and ready for bed,” she interrupted. “It’s been a long day.” She doubted she would be getting much sleep with the majority of her body throbbing, but it was time for Stone to go so they could head their separate ways.

“Sounds like the wife is kicking you out.” Karri winked.

“Oh, no,” Sophie started to correct the nurses assumptions. “We’re not—”

“I’ll be back tomorrow.” He got to his feet, walking to where she stood, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be back,” he said again quietly, holding her gaze and giving her chin a gentle squeeze. Then he turned and walked out.

“That’s a sweet husband you’ve got yourself there.”

“Yes,” she agreed, because it was easier pretending his gesture hadn’t meant anything. Gathering her strength, she took another step, content that she was doing what was right for herself for once in her life. “I’m ready to keep going,” she said to Karri and made her way to the bathroom.

~~~~

Eric shot up in bed as his new phone rang in the dark. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

He switched on the light. “Is it done?”

“Johnston Sanders is fish bait.”

“Good. What about Sophie? Did you find the thumb drive?”

“She’s still alive.”

“What the hell do you mean she’s still alive?” He gripped the phone tight as he shoved his covers back and stood.

“Her brakes failed, but she managed to survive.”

“Son of a bitch! I’m paying you to
end
her.” He walked over to the dresser, smacking the antique brush and mirror set he’d given her for Christmas to the floor, finding no satisfaction when the glass splintered, smashing into small pieces.

“Hey, man, you said you want it to look like an accident. I put a slow leak in the brake lines. She crashed. She just didn’t die. If you want her dead right now, I’ll put a bullet in her head by morning.”

He wanted her dead right this second, but if this wasn’t done right the police would connect her death to him. “Stick to the original plan. The brakes, they don’t look like they were tampered with?”

“Give me some credit. It’ll look like wear and tear if anyone checks, but they shouldn’t.”

“Where’s the thumb drive?”

“I can’t find it. I searched her apartment this afternoon while she was downstairs. There’s hardly anything in the place. It’s not there.”

“Damn.” This wasn’t working out the way he’d planned. “I’m paying you for results. Find the stupid thing and get rid of her. You’ll have to search her ex-husband’s piece-of-crap house. His name is Stone McCabe.” He hung up, letting out another swear. How hard was it to kill one stupid woman? He walked downstairs to his bar and poured himself three fingers of whiskey, gulping the entire glass down in one go, reveling in the smooth flavor of the top-shelf beverage. He wouldn’t rest until Sophie was dead. He glanced at his watch, anticipating the countdown until he got the call.

Sophie sat in the backseat of the cab, more than
ready for the ride to end. She’d been gritting her teeth, clutching the door’s armrest for the last thirty minutes, waiting not so patiently for the car to pull up in front of her apartment. The bumps and numerous stops and accelerations were pure torture to her battered body. Two more blocks. Just two more blocks and the nightmare would finally be over.

She glanced down at her watch, fairly certain Stone had figured out by now that she wasn’t waiting for him in the lobby as Karri told him she would be. He’d left a message at the nurse’s station this morning, letting her nurse know he would be there to pick her up at ten thirty when she was set to be discharged. The doctor had let her go at nine twenty, and she’d wasted little time calling the cab company, with every intention of vacating LA General by nine forty-five at the latest. And she’d succeeded.

Perhaps her tactics were petty and ungracious, and Stone was going to be mad, but she needed to face this struggle on her own. She was a strong, self-reliant woman, and this was the perfect opportunity to show herself that she could face anything, even eye-crossing discomfort, without someone waiting in the wings to catch her should she fall. She’d come a long way since March. She had friends; knew the joys and sorrows of amazing sex, intimacy, and love; and had taken the first steps to stand up to Eric. She’d opened her own business, which she still needed to run…somehow, but never had she stood on her own. Mom had been her rock for most of her life, then she’d relied on Eric for too long, and now she depended on Abby and Stone for emotional support.

Taking care of herself and Murphy when Abby brought him by later this afternoon was going to be a bit of a challenge, but she could handle it. Maybe a little nap on her uncomfortable couch, then it would be time to clean up and get down to the shop, since Carolyn was away for the holiday weekend.

The cab
finally
pulled up in front of McCabe Jewelry, and she sighed her relief as she handed off her fare and gingerly slid to the door.

“Can I get the door for you?” The cabbie asked.

“Oh, no thank you.”

“You’re pretty banged up.” He got out and opened her door anyway. “Here, let me give you a hand.” He extended his hand and helped her out of the car.

“Thank you,” she righted herself gingerly. “I really appreciate it.”

“Get well soon.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and started toward McCabe Jewelry’s entrance, taking her keys out of her purse. Just as she reached for the door, she dropped them. “That didn’t just
happen
.” Groaning, she closed her eyes, resting her tender forehead against the glass. “Come on, McCabe. Don’t be a wimp. You can totally do this,” she assured herself as she looked down at the sidewalk, devising her plan. If she bent at the knees and kept her trunk straight, she might not pass out from the pain. “Okay.” She licked her lips. “Okay, here goes.” She held on to the door handle, taking a deep breath, wincing, regretting the quick intake of air immediately as she bent at the knees, feeling around until her fingers connected with the metal. “
Yes
.”

Smiling her success, she fought to stand with her one good arm, moaned when she jerked her torso too quickly to the right, and gave up, putting the keys in her mouth to use both hands on the knob, finally making it to standing. Out of breath and weak from the effort, she leaned against the door. “You did it. You did it, Soph,” she encouraged herself. Now she just had to tackle twelve steep stairs, unlock another door, and she was home free.

She swiped the hair back from her face, gasping when she spotted the Mustang in the reflection in the glass. “Oh no.” She bit her lip, turning her whole body slowly, staring at Stone leaning against the hood of his car in ripped dark-wash jeans and a black t-shirt, his arms crossed at his chest, his eyes covered by the dark lenses of his glasses. “Crap,” she muttered. How long had he been standing there? She slapped on a smile. “Hi.”

He didn’t smile back. “I left a message with your nurse.”

“Yeah. They decided to let me go early.”

“You should’ve called.”

“I figured you’d need to get to work. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother if I offered.”

She backed up, resting against the door when small black dots started dancing in front of her eyes and her pulse pounded in her head as the sun beat down, baking the area around her. God she needed to sit down. “Well, I made it. Thanks for—”

“Cut the bullshit, Sophie.” He walked to where she stood and snagged the keys out of her hand. “You’re about to fall over.”

“I need to rest for just a minute. Then I’ll be fine.”

He unlocked the door, opening it for her. “Take a seat. You look like a ghost. I’m going up to get some of your stuff.”

“No.” She leaned against the counter, too fatigued to do anything more.

He slid his sunglasses on top of his head, revealing eyes hot with temper. “You’re either going to Abby’s or coming with me.”

“I can’t go to Abby’s.” She moved to the stool behind the cash register. “Abby and Jerrod are busy. They have plans tonight with Alexa and Jackson.”

“I guess that means you’re stuck with me. Which key is it?” He started toward the stairs, but she only stared at him. “Fine. I’ll figure it out myself.” He came down a few minutes later with a bag full of her stuff, more pissed off than when he went up. “Let’s go,” he snapped.

She stayed firmly planted on the cushioned stool. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“Let’s
go
, Sophie.”

“I said—” She stood faster than she should have, crying out with the sharp jolt.

“Soph.” Stone dropped her bag and rushed to her side, gently wrapping his arm around her shoulders, taking some of her weight. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit back down?”

She swallowed, gripping his arm, leaning against him. “No. I’m okay.” Who was she kidding? No matter how much she wanted to stay here and tough it out on her own, she couldn’t. “I’m—I’m coming back here tomorrow.”

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow.”

“We need to get Murphy.” With little choice she accepted the support Stone offered and walked to his car.

~~~~

Stone slid Sophie a glance in the tense silence, watching her squeeze the armrest in a white-knuckle grip while she rested her head against the back of the seat, staring out the window. Clenching his jaw, he looked straight ahead, merging onto Highway One, trying to let go of the anger he hadn’t been able to shake since he’d arrived at LA General and realized she’d skipped out on him mere minutes before he’d gotten there to pick her up.

What the hell was her problem? Why wouldn’t she let him help her? Clearly she needed it, yet she’d kicked him out of her room last night, and today she blew him off for the second time. He shook his head, steaming out a breath, remembering her ridiculous attempt at unlocking her door to make it into her shop, growing more pissed off, thinking of her apartment. She was living out of Tupperware bins and had one stupid piece of furniture to her name, but she would rather stay in Beverly Hills alone than come home with him.

Abby had assured him he and Sophie were better together, that she was as miserable as he was, but as he looked her way again, he wasn’t seeing it. He glanced at her naked ring finger exposed by her cast, as she stroked Murphy’s side, then at his own. He’d pulled off the band, shoving it in his pocket after he left her temporary room in the ER last night. She hadn’t noticed he’d been wearing it in the confusion, and he had no intention of wearing his damn heart on his sleeve when Sophie seemed to be handling their separation just fine.

He slowed, taking the turn toward the cliffs, driving around the curves, careful not to jar Sophie any more than he could help. “Looks like we’re here,” he said as he pulled into his spot. “If you wait a minute I’ll help you.”

“Oh, I don’t need any.”

The cabbie could help her, but not him. “Whatever,” he muttered, taking her purse and bag from the floor, then gently lifting one very drugged-up Murphy off the seat. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get you inside.”

Murphy licked his chin.

“Thanks.” He got out, bringing Murphy into the house, settling him on the blankets where the puppy’s bed used to be when he and Sophie still lived here. “There you go.” He scratched behind Murphy’s ears, happy to have the dog back in the house. “I’ll go get your mom.”

Murphy gave a halfhearted wag.

“I’ll be right back.” He stood, turning as Sophie walked inside.

“The flowers out front are dead.” She moved to the plants that had withered by the window, frowning when crisp brown leaves disintegrated at her touch. “And the plants.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t been around much.”

“I guess not.” She ran a finger along the TV stand, creating a line in the dust as she looked at him.

“Work’s been busy.” He’d made sure of it.

“We’ll have to get things cleaned up.”

He shook his head. “Not today. Today you’re going to rest.”

She nodded. “I think I could use a little nap. They kept waking me up last night.”

“Let’s get you to bed.”

“I can do it.”

If she said that one more time he was going to lose it. She was driving him
crazy
with her insistence to do everything on her own, whether she could or not. “Are you planning to wear the scrubs?”

She looked down at the bulky light blue pants and top. “Mmm, did you happen to pack my pajamas?”

“They’re in the bag.” He lifted it, pulling out her pink tank top and striped shorts, handing them over.

“Thanks. I’ll change.”

“I’ll get you some ice.”

“I don’t need any.”

“
Yes
you do. The doctor said so last night, and so do your discharge instructions.” He held up the yellow sheets of paper he’d had time to scan while she fought to buckle her seatbelt as they sat in front of her shop, asserting she could handle it by herself.

She nibbled her lip. “I hate the ice. It makes the pain worse.”

“But it reduces the swelling. Get into your pajamas, and I’ll take care of the compress and ibuprofen.”

“I appreciate it.”

He didn’t want her to appreciate it; he just wanted her to let him take care of her. He walked to the freezer, opening the door with a yank, finding the ice pack she’d bought shortly after he got the black eye. He went to the bathroom, grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen, and walked into the bedroom, frowning as Sophie stood by the window still fully dressed in the scrubs. “I thought you were changing.”

“I can’t lift my arms over my head. It hurts my ribs.”

“How did you get dressed this morning?”

“Karri helped me before the duty change.”

“So what made you think you were going to get undressed by yourself?”

“I thought I could do it. I
want
to be able to do it. I
should
be able to take care of myself.”

“Yeah, well sometimes you can’t.” He set her bag, purse, compress, and pill bottle down on the bedspread. “Come here.”

She walked to where he stood.

“How do you want to do this?”

“Maybe you could help me lift it over my good arm and we’ll slide it off from there. It’s the stretching motion that hurts so much.”

“All right. Let’s do it.” He moved closer, pulling the shirt up as she carefully lifted her arm, sucking in a breath with the movement.

“Stop.” He couldn’t stand seeing her in this much pain.

She froze. “What?”

“Are you attached to this top?”

“No. I was going to throw it away. It was either wear this or the gown.”

“Hold on.” He went to the kitchen and grabbed the scissors from the drawers Sophie had organized and came back. “I’ll cut it off.”

“Okay.”

He started cutting up from the bottom hem, exposing her taut stomach, realizing she was braless as he went.

“Um, I’m not wearing a bra,” she said, looking up from under her lashes the way he knew she did when she was feeling shy.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you naked a few times before.”

She smiled. “I know.”

He smiled back. “It’s no big deal, Soph.”

“I didn’t say it was. I just didn’t want to surprise you or make you feel uncomfortable.”

“I think I’ve got this. Ready?”

“Sure.”

He pulled off her top one arm at a time, glancing at firm breasts and pink nipples before she covered herself with her casted arm. “How about a bra or something instead of the shirt?”

“If you packed one.”

“You left this here.” He walked to the dresser, holding up a black, front-close exercise bra.

“I didn’t realize I had.”

“You left several things here.” And he’d left them where he found them, not ready to put them in a box and hand them off.

She met his gaze and looked down. “Oh.”

Tension started creeping back into the room. “So, do you want the bra?”

“Yes, I guess that would work.”

He stood before her again and slid it on one arm at a time, gently bringing the ends around her ribcage, the sides of his hands brushing the soft skin of her breasts as he fastened the clasp. “How’s that?”

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Go ahead and lose the pants, and we’ll get you settled in.”

“I tried.” She swallowed. “The string’s knotted. I can’t bend my head far enough to see what I’m doing.”

He fiddled with the knot, finally loosening it. “There.” He stared into her eyes as he sent the pants down to pool at her feet.

“I, uh, they—they cut off my panties. They cut everything.”

“Apparently.” He turned, reaching into her bag, fishing out a pair of the silk scraps he used to love taking off of her,
wanting
her. In the two-and-a-half weeks they’d been apart he hadn’t forgotten how easily he could make that beautiful body of hers respond with a touch of his tongue, brush of his lips, or slide of his fingers. The idea of never doing so again was almost more than he could stand. “Okay.” He turned back. “Go ahead and step out.”

She lifted her feet one at a time, and he gathered the clothes for the trash, then held out the pale pink panties. “Foot in.”