Open Heart (10 page)

Nick shot off down the street, looking in to the small alleys as he passed them.
Come on, come on. You can’t have gone far.
He ran past a side street, something caught his eye, he backed up.
There
.

The guy was shoving the woman in to the back seat of a car; she looked unconscious now. Nick approached quietly while the guy had his back to him.

“Hey,” Nick said.

Startled, the man spun around and Nick punched him –
Careful now, not as hard as you can
– right in the chin. With a grunt, the guy slammed head-first in to the door. His legs buckled, he slid down the side of the car and slumped over. He was out cold.

Nick reached in to the car and gingerly pulled the woman towards him. Her head lolled, her body was boneless. As her face became visible under the streetlight, Nick saw a raised welt on her left cheek and a big cut on her right temple.

The fucker hit her. Maybe she tried to fight back?

He took off his t-shirt and carefully put it under her head. She didn’t even move; she barely seemed to be breathing. He knelt down beside her and touched her uninjured cheek. She was cold.

“Damn,” he muttered.

There was nothing for it, he knew. He climbed in to the car and gathered the woman in his arms. He pulled her gently on to his lap and then tucked her head under his chin and held her, trying to warm her up with his own body heat.

Adam came around the corner and saw Nick sitting in the car. He ran over, scarcely giving the unconscious guy at his feet a second glance.

“Is she OK?”

“I don’t think so. She’s totally out, man, and freezing cold. You’ve got to call an ambulance.”

“My phone is back at the club. I’ll call and come right back. Give me two minutes.”

“You want to do something about this bastard before you go?” Nick pointed his chin at the creep.

“Yeah. Sure thing.”

Adam popped the trunk and picked up the guy like his dead weight was nothing. Without ceremony, Adam tossed him in to the trunk and slammed it closed.

“He’ll only be in there for ten minutes or so,” Adam said. “Just until the ambulance comes. Then I’ll haul him out and wait for the cops.”

Nick shrugged. “I really don’t give a crap. You can leave him in there all night, as far as I’m concerned.”

“It’s tempting. OK, I’ll be right back. Hold on.”

After Adam had gone, Nick turned his attention back to the woman. He brushed her hair back off her face and examined her injuries more closely. She’d have a bad bruise on her cheek, no doubt about it, and it looked like she’d need stitches for that gash. Gently, he pressed his t-shirt down on her temple, trying to stop the bleeding.

Mia felt a horrible pain shoot through her head and she groaned. She tried to lift her hand to touch her forehead but she wasn’t able to move.

“Hey,” a deep voice rumbled under her ear. “Hey, are you OK?”

Mia fought to open her eyes but the lids felt impossibly heavy.

“Can you hear me?” Somebody was lightly touching her face now. “You’re going to be OK. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

For a few seconds, Mia was able to hear and feel everything: she was pressed up against a naked chest that was rising and falling steadily. She felt the man’s heartbeat against her cheek, and his warmth spread over her whole body. She heard his voice and felt his arms around her. His hands were gentle as they stroked her hair.

Then – between his breaths and heartbeats – she blacked out completely and knew nothing more at all.

**

Nick sat in the hospital E.R., wondering for about the hundredth time just
why
he was sitting in the hospital E.R. His part in this whole mess was – for all intents and purposes – over now.

He had stayed with the woman, holding her and trying to get her warm, until the ambulance arrived. The attendants took over and he had stepped to one side with no regrets. When Adam came back, the two of them pulled the dickhead out of the trunk – much to the surprise of the ambulance guys – and practically sat on top of him until the cops came. That, Nick thought, was it. The woman was off to the hospital, the cops would take the dickhead. End of story.

It occurred to Nick, though, that the woman’s friends might be interested in what had happened to her and they would want to go to the hospital. He went back to the club and looked around, his heart sinking. They were gone. He did two laps, even had Sarah check the ladies’ bathroom, but no luck. They had moved on.

He returned to the side street where the cops had the asshole in handcuffs and were questioning him. He had a huge bump on his head and his chin was already turning a satisfying dark purple. Nick glowered at him.

“Hey!” the dickhead whined. “This is the guy who hit me! I want to press charges!”

The one cop rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah… he assaulted me!”

Nick smirked, remembering how easy the guy had gone down with barely a tap.

“Any luck with her friends?” asked the second cop.

“Nope. They’re gone.”

“Damn. Do you know her?”

“No. I served her exactly one drink tonight and it was a glass of juice. We barely spoke.”

“So you don’t know her name?”

Nick blinked. “No. Where’s her ID?”

“In her purse, I imagine. And we can’t find that anywhere.”

Nick looked down at the woman lying on the stretcher and felt a tug in his chest. She was drugged and unconscious, nameless, all alone. She was going to come to in the hospital, and she’d be in pain and have a stitched-up head and be completely terrified. And what would she do after? No purse meant no phone, no money, no house keys. How was she going to get home? Who was going to help her?

Goddammit
.

“OK, look. I’ll go back to the club and ask the staff to look for her purse… maybe she dropped it when he was dragging her out. And I’ll go to the hospital and wait with her there.”

The female cop raised her eyebrows at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel kind of responsible for her. I mean, this asshole drugged her right in front of me and I totally missed it.”

“OK. And if the purse turns up, let us know, OK?” The woman handed him a card.

“Sure.” He pocketed the card and headed back to the club to tell his boss what was going on, wondering just why the hell he gave a damn what happened to this woman.

And now here he sat in the E.R., waiting on news about a total stranger, a woman he had held against his chest and whispered to as he stroked her face; he had comforted her and been worried about her. He realized that those few minutes alone in the back seat of the car had somehow connected him to her, and he had to see this through.

This was very unusual for him: Nick Spencer never connected to any woman. And he certainly never saw anything through. Quick, casual, easy fuck, gone with the sunrise – that was his life. That was how he liked it. He’d make sure this woman got home safely and then she’d be gone for good.

He settled down to wait for the doctor.

**

Dr. Sam Inglis read over the patient’s chart and blood results. No doubt about it. She had ingested a massive dose of Rohypnol, enough to knock her out for at least eight hours and to wake up with absolutely no memory at all. Sam shuddered to think what may have happened to this young woman if the bartender hadn’t stepped in.

“OK, keep giving her fluids,” he told the nurse. “I’ll be back to check her in an hour. Are the police here yet?”

She glanced up at him. “No. I’ll tell you when they arrive.”

“Thanks. I’ll go talk to the guy in the waiting room.”

The nurse nodded and wished that
she
could be the one to update the guy who was waiting for news about this woman. He was the best-looking, sexiest thing she’d ever seen in the E.R. He was tall and wide and his eyes were like steel. Come to think of it, so were his biceps and pecs; even his forearms were pure muscle. This was one powerful guy. The kind to sweep you off your feet and throw you to the bed without any apologies at all.

Sam looked around the waiting room and spotted Nick.

“Are you with the woman from the club?”

“Yeah. Is she OK?”

“Still unconscious. We’re pumping her with fluids now, trying to flush the drugs out of her system. I hope she’ll wake up in an hour or two.”

“Jesus. He really dosed her, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So when she wakes up, how’s she going to feel?”

“Like hell. She’ll probably be dizzy and confused, and I imagine she’ll be chilled and have the shakes as a reaction to the drugs. She may also have trouble moving properly.”

“What? She won’t be able to walk?”

“No, I mean she’ll be uncoordinated. Many people who have been dosed with Rohypnol are clumsy and sluggish and unbalanced when they come to.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes and sighed. “She’ll need to lie down for several hours, preferably in her own bed. Any luck finding her purse?”

Nick shook his head. “Not yet.”

“I hope it turns up… she needs to get home.”

Nick was surprised at the next words that came out of his mouth: “Can I see her?”

“Of course. This way.”

Nick followed Dr. Inglis down the hall packed with gurneys on both sides. It was noisy and crowded and many people were just reeling around aimlessly. A male nurse was trying to get one guy to lie down, a doctor was trying to calm down a hysterical mother.

Sam saw Nick’s expression. “Friday night. We have more than our fair share of injuries.”

“And drunks,” Nick said watching a group of teenagers energetically puking in to paper bags.

“Yep. Totally normal.” He opened a door at the end of the hall. “In here.”

Nick stood in the doorway, looking at the woman in the bed. She was attached to an IV and something clear was dripping in to her arm. He walked closer and saw the stitches along her hairline. A nurse was just putting a bandage on them.

“How’s her head?”

“Bad cut, pretty deep. It looks like he punched her in the face and she rebounded off a brick wall. Maybe the ground.”

Nick stared at her, so small and helpless, and felt anger swelling in his chest. She had done nothing at all to deserve anything that was happening to her.

Fuck. Maybe I should have hit him just a little bit harder.

“Can I sit with her for a few minutes?”

“Sure. And if you can stay, I’d appreciate that. I’d like someone to be here when she wakes up – she’s going to be very disoriented.”

“But she doesn’t know me. I mean, I don’t even know her name.”

Sam Inglis shrugged. “You’re literally the only person in this whole E.R. who had any contact with her when she was conscious. Compared to the rest of us, you
do
know her. You’re the best person for her to wake up to, at least right now.”

**

Dear Reader,
‘Fighting Hard’ (Fighting For Love #1) is already available for purchase on Amazon. I hope that you will download it and get to know Mia, Nick, Katie, Adam and a cast of new characters.
Thank you for reading!

Marysol

About the author

Marysol James is the author of the 'Open Skies' and ‘Fighting For Love’ series. She writes steamy, sexy, slinky romances which feature strong, complex women and equally fascinating men. Marysol is interested in producing well-written and passionate stories with characters who learn to let go of control and to trust – both in and out of the bedroom.

Her stories are very sensual (very!), and offer smart plots, a bit of humor, and lots of character development, so her books will appeal to readers who want emotional connection as well as sexuality.

When not writing, Marysol can be found swimming, doing yoga, listening to music and drinking coffee. To stay up-to-date with her, visit her blog at marysoljames.wordpress.com or follow her on Twitter (@marysoljames)

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