She swats at his arm with her free hand, trying to push him away. “I can walk,” she says, her eyes avoiding his.
Dylan’s nostrils flair. “You’re not walking with a head injury,” he says in a tight voice, trying to keep his anger tamped down.
“I’m fine, now move,” she yells back at him, looking him straight in the eyes.
He stares back at her, narrowing his. Ignoring her protests, he snatches her off of the seat and slams the door extra hard.
“Put me down,” she shouts as she tries to wiggle out of his grasp. He simply tightens his grip on her, effectively stopping her. He stomps through the sliding glass doors and makes his way to the check-in.
“May I help you?” the nurse behind the desk asks.
“She needs to see a doc,” he says. “She hit her head.”
“Put me down,” Myra yells again.
He ignores Myra’s squirming and loud outburst. “Can you grab us a wheelchair? She shouldn’t be walking,” he says to the nurse. She nods at him and stands up to retrieve one.
“I don’t need a wheelchair,” Myra shouts.
A hint of a smile plays at his lips. For some reason, he kind of likes seeing this woman pissed off.
“Here you go,” the nurse says as she walks up to them with a wheelchair in tow.
Dylan deposits her in it and tries to hide his smile at her little temper tantrum. She’s always been so timid and quiet around him that he finds her behavior to be a bit entertaining.
“You’ll need to fill out this paperwork,” the nurse says as she hands Myra a clipboard. “We’ll get you seen as quickly as possible.”
Dylan watches in amusement as Myra huffs and mumbles incoherently under her breath. Once she has the paperwork filled out, he takes it from her and hands it back to the nurse.
Sitting in a chair across from her, he stretches his long legs out in front of him, crossing his feet at the ankles, relaxing his achy muscles for a minute. He curiously watches her as he tries to decide what to do next. He has no obligation to be here. He did his good deed for the day and brought her to the hospital. The docs can take care of her now. Or she can call her boyfriend, friend, or whoever the hell she has and they can come get her.
“Myra Sommers?” a nurse calls out.
He pushes the wheelchair over to the nurse and steps in front of it for a moment, looking down at Myra. “Look, I’ve got shit I gotta take care of. You okay now? Is there someone that can take you home?”
“Yes,” she snaps back, glaring up at him.
“Good. See ya Monday,” Dylan mumbles before turning on his heel and walking out of the hospital.
* * *
Myra mindlessly watches the pictures flicker across the muted TV screen mounted on the wall.
Sighing, she tries to figure out what to do now that the asshole has left her at the hospital all by herself. She can’t believe the nerve of that guy – that he couldn’t be bothered to wait around long enough to give her a ride back home.
The doctor walks into her room. “Your CT scan results were normal. The stitches we put in will dissolve so you won’t need to come back to have them removed. You do have a mild concussion so you need to be supervised for the next twenty-four hours just as a precaution. Do you have someone that can stay with you? If not, we’ll need to keep you overnight merely for observation,” he says.
For once, Myra wishes Jackie was moved in already.
“Um, let me call someone,” she says as she pulls out her phone and dials Porter.
“Hi, Myra,” he answers in a happy voice.
“Hey.”
“You doin’ okay?”
“Yeah. I slipped and fell on the driveway today, and have a mild concussion. Could you stay with me this evening? Doctor’s orders.”
“Oh my goodness, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had to have a few stitches.”
“Okay. Hm. Let me see here,” Porter says before he pauses. Myra bows her head and closes her eyes. “We had two guys call in sick today with the flu so I’m the only one covering second shift at the station, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to cover third shift as well. And Erika is pulling a double because a couple nurses called in sick. There’s a nasty flu bug going around. Let me see if I can work something out, and I’ll call you back.”
Myra takes in a deep breath. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get someone else. But thank you and I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“If I can work something out, I’ll call you back. And I’ll check in on you in the morning, all right?”
“Thanks, Porter.”
Myra closes her phone and stares at it. She has no one else to call. Of course she knows other people in this town because she grew up here. But she doesn’t know anyone well enough to ask. She has nobody.
She slowly looks up at the doctor. “Guess I’ll be spending the night,” she says in a small voice.
“Okay,” he says. “Let me go arrange a bed.”
Myra turns on her side and stares at the wall. She has no parents, no brothers or sisters, no boyfriend, not even a cousin to call. Nobody. And her one and only friend lives on the other side of the country now.
For a moment, she wishes she was back in Philly again, close to Susie. Her heart begins to beat faster and her eyes start to sting with tears when she thinks about the fact that she could just die here in Nyssa in that broken-down old house and no one would ever even notice she was gone.
Her chest feels compressed, and she can’t get her breathing under control. Sitting up, she shuts her eyes tightly and buries her face in her knees and takes in slow, calming breaths. After several difficult minutes, her heart rate starts to slow and the panic attack eases off. A tear slips down her cheek; she quickly wipes it away when the door opens and the doctor steps back into the room. She bites her lip hard to keep the tears back.
“Well, you don’t have to stay with us after all,” the doctor says with a smile. “The nurse got busy and forgot to give me a message. Apparently, the gentleman that dropped you off is back. I spoke to him briefly, and he’s agreed to watch you for the next twenty-four hours.”
Myra’s mouth gapes open. “What?” she asks as she stares at him for a minute, trying to collect herself and let the information sink in. “Oh no,” she says, shaking her head. “I do not want to go with him. I’d rather spend the night in the hospital.”
“Oh.” The doctor frowns as he looks up at her from the computer. “Are you sure? I can get a bed for you if you like, but you might be more comfortable at home in your own bed tonight.”
She sighs as her shoulders slump. She knows she would be much more comfortable at home, but no way will she let Dylan spend the night with her. But what if…? She sits up straighter. She can just have Dylan drop her off at the house and then go home. And she can stay by herself. Problem solved.
“Yeah, you’re right. He can stay with me,” she says quickly to the doctor.
He smiles. “Great. Okay, I gave him a sheet to read over about what symptoms to watch out for over the next twenty-four hours. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to give us a call or call your primary care doctor, okay?”
Myra nods and waits until they discharge her. With a prescription for pain killers in hand, she grabs her bag and makes her way towards the waiting room. She pauses before going through the door, nervously chewing on her thumbnail and leaning against the wall.
She can’t figure out why the jerk bothered to come back. She doesn’t need his help. Peering through the small window in the large wooden door, she spots Dylan sprawled out in a chair, his right ankle resting on his left knee while he intently reads a piece of paper. Taking in a deep breath, she opens the door.
Keeping her eyes on the exit, she marches right past him to the door. He jumps up and takes a few long strides to catch up with her.
“Where ya going?” he asks.
She continues to ignore him and scans the parking lot. “To your truck.”
“Wait here and I’ll go get it.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking.”
Spotting his truck in the parking lot, she makes a beeline for it. He remains silent as he comes up behind her and opens the door for her.
She waits until he backs out of the parking spot before she finally looks at him. “Why’d you bother coming back?” she asks.
He turns his head towards her. When their eyes meet, his have a softness to them as they stare into hers. “I don’t know.”
Myra looks down at her lap. “Look, you got me out of the hospital, and I appreciate that, but I don’t want you staying. Just drop me off. You can go home and get some rest.”
“Uh…
no
.”
Myra’s mouth drops open. “You can’t spend the night with me. I don’t know you at all; you’re a complete stranger. You… you could be a rapist for all I know.”
He turns his head to glare at her. “Are you fucking kidding me? If I was a rapist, don’t you think I would’ve attacked you by now?” He shakes his head as he looks back at the road. “I’ll just sleep on your couch. You won’t even know I’m there. I made a promise to that doc and I plan on keeping it.”
Myra stares at the stern, rigid lines of his profile for a moment before slouching in her seat.
* * *
Myra’s cell rings.
“Hey.”
“Hey, hon. How’s it going?” Susie asks.
“Not good.”
“Did you fall through the roof too? On top of the contractor, I hope.” Susie giggles.
“No. I was taking a box out to the garage and slipped. I hit my head, and had to get six stitches.”
“What? Are you joking?”
“No. I’m serious.”
“Jesus, Myra, is that house cursed or something? I know that damn thing’s haunted because that ghost tried to get me, but now I’m thinking it’s cursed too. What are the odds of the two of you getting hurt like that? Weird…”
“I know.”
“Was Dylan there when you fell?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh shit. Let me grab some popcorn. Tell me.”
“Well, he dropped me off at the hospital and left. Then I couldn’t find anyone to stay with me because since I have a concussion, someone is supposed to stay with me for the first twenty-four hours…”
“That asshat,” Susie shouts.
“Susie, just let me finish. He came back. And he’s going to…” she pauses, taking in a deep breath, “… stay. He’s an asshole for sure, but he just left to pick up my prescription and stop by his house, and then he’ll be back.”
“He’s spending the night with you? This is just getting better and better. I need some extra butter for my popcorn.”
“I didn’t want him to, but he insisted.”
“Hm. This man’s assholish, tender ways have me a bit confused.”
“Me too.”
“I can’t believe you had to get stitches. I wish I was there. Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Good,” she says before she sighs heavily. “Myra, this is the worst time to bring this up, but I have to; I have no choice. I’m really sorry about this okay? But I need to talk to you about something important, all right?”
“You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“Well, I was at my desk earlier. Actually, this part is really funny. I stopped on the way to work to get gas and went in and bought a box of powdered sugar donuts. I got to work and was at my desk munching away at them when your shitty little ex came up behind me and cleared his throat loudly. And I had just taken a big bite, but because he scared the living shit out of me, I inhaled and that powdered sugar went straight down my throat. Have you ever sucked that shit down your lungs before? God, it was horrible.”
Myra snickers.
“So I turned and started hacking uncontrollably and a big chunk of donut went flying out of my mouth and landed just a few inches from his prissy black penny loafers. I so wish it had landed on his shoe because that would’ve pissed him off something fierce.” Susie laughs evilly.
Myra smiles as she wraps a blanket around her knees.
“You know what? I could never be a coke addict. Do you think that’s what it feels like when people snort coke? How could they stand that?”
Myra shakes her head. “How would I know? I’ve never even smoked a cigarette before.”
“Yeah, I know. How did I end up talking about snorting coke? I so need to get tested for conversational ADD. Anyway, that prick demanded information about you for the billionth time, and I told him to fuck off again for the billionth time. So he told me that if I didn’t give him your number or address immediately that he was going to hire a private detective to hunt you down.”
Myra gasps.
“He still has no idea that you’re in Nyssa; it hasn’t even crossed his little pee brain. I’m so glad you threatened Lori in HR with a lawsuit if she released any more information about you because, just so you know, I talked to her, and he’s been harassing her as well. She felt so bad about giving him your phone number.”
“What is wrong with him?”
“I don’t know. I also told him to go suck his own ass and that I hoped the dick he hires shoves a dick up his nether regions.”
“That’s awful. I can’t believe you said that.”