Dom X - The Complete Box Set: Alpha Male Romance (11 page)

I
stepped
out of the shower feeling smugly pleased with myself. Not because I was actually feeling good about anything, but rather the fact that I'd decided to take a shower and not care about keeping my dressings dry. Part of it was because I'd wanted a real shower for a long time. While I'd technically been keeping clean, there was something to be said for how much fresher one felt after a real shower. The other part, however, was because I was doing something that I knew would piss off my doctors.

That was the thing about being angry, for me anyway. I wanted to lash out, make others as miserable as I was. I doubted my little rebellion would make anyone miserable, probably annoyed at best, but at least, I got a shower out of it.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I thought about heading downstairs to get myself something to eat, but I hadn't gone more than two steps before realizing that I wasn't alone.

I saw Father O'Toole first, and it was the expression of embarrassed horror on his face that made me realize he had someone standing next to him. For a second, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me because there was no way in hell that Nori Prinz was standing on the landing, staring at me.

But then her eyes jerked up from where they'd been looking and it all hit me at once. She was really here...and I was standing in the middle of the hallway, stark naked, about to be scolded by a priest. Something inside me snapped.

All of the anger and bitterness I'd felt from the moment I woke up in the hospital and realized what my life would never be again, all of it came pouring out of me. It was ugly and I knew neither of them deserved it, especially not Nori. I wasn't able to see her face when I said I didn't want her here, but I knew she was a kind, compassionate person, and my words probably hurt her.

Then again, I reminded myself as I slammed my bedroom door shut behind me, she probably didn't care that much about what I thought. Father O'Toole said he'd brought her out to help, which meant he'd offered her a job. She'd seemed pretty set at the hospital, which meant the father would've had to offer her a lot to get her here. She was nice enough, but I was a job, nothing else. It was all I'd ever been to her.

“Dammit!” I tossed my towel toward the pile of clothes that now completely covered my hamper.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, then quickly looked away. Dealing with someone like me in a hospital was one thing. Everyone there was sick, injured, recovering, or dying. I was one of many. Here, even hidden from the outside world, I was the only one. I knew the neighbors were wondering about me, trying to figure out who in the world the priest had taken in this time.

I didn't want the house, and I sure as hell didn't want a bunch of people lurking around, trying to pretend they weren't looking at the freak hiding upstairs. Even if they were told ahead of time what happened to me, it wasn't the same as seeing it.

I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and pulled them on. It was hot outside – or at least, I assumed it was since it was June – but I found one of the zip-up hooded shirts I'd ordered online earlier this week. They'd arrived yesterday. I pulled it on, then reminded myself to turn up the air conditioning the next time I was downstairs.

I'd known Father O'Toole wasn't going to let me live here alone. I had my physical therapist coming in a couple times a week, but that wasn't the same as having someone here all the time, keeping an eye on me. When he finally decided I wouldn’t off myself, then I'd finally get some peace. Until then, I’d just have to deal.

And, apparently, that now meant Nori.

I ran my hand through my wet hair and muttered, “Fuck.”

What the hell was I supposed to do now? My pulse raced as I sat down on the edge of my bed. She was here, in this house. Right now. I assumed she was taking the third floor since that was set up similarly to this one and Father O'Toole had implied she'd be taking over all of the duties of the people who'd left.

Having her right here, day and night...my stomach clenched.

I needed her gone. If I was smart, I'd go upstairs right now and tell her not to bother unpacking. I'd tell Father O'Toole that I'd make nice with Hador, the replacement nurse who'd been coming in since I'd fired Aida if he'd stop trying to hire people to live here. I couldn't have her so close.

Ever since I'd had that dream, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her, no matter how hard I tried. And I had tried. I was no saint when it came to fantasizing about women or masturbating while thinking about someone, but I didn't want to think that way about her. She'd been too good to me already.

It was harder than I'd thought it'd be. I hadn't had much of a sex drive since the accident. Hell, that was a lie. Aside from that dream, I'd had absolutely no sex drive in the past three months. I'd tried watching porn, and even that wasn’t able to make my dick sit up and take interest. I couldn't get even a little hard anymore.

Unless I was thinking about her.

I closed my eyes and buried my head in my hands. I didn't know what to do.

I wanted her to stay. In the hospital, she was the only person who'd been able to push back the darkness. I didn't know a lot about her, but I did know, if I'd met her under other circumstances, I would've asked her out by now.

Which was why she had to go. If she stayed here, she'd spend her time trapped in here with me, and eventually come to hate me. She was probably pissed as hell right now, but I knew it wasn't the same thing. If she stayed though, I'd lose the last tenuous bit of a good thing that I had. Knowing that there was one person aside from the father who didn't see me as a monster...it was all I had.

And I knew she'd see me that way if she stayed. Not just because of how I looked, but because she'd finally realize that I deserved everything that happened. Hell, I deserved worse.

That thought had been circling in my mind for months, that voice in my head telling me that I didn't deserve anything real or good in my life. That who I was in the past hadn't been erased by the good I'd done since then. Father O'Toole had tried to convince me that I could have a new start in the army, and for a while he was right, but then it had caught up to me.

I curled my hands into fists, wincing as it pulled the scar tissue on my hand. Their faces were in my head now, reminding me of how little I deserved anything good. I'd failed them. It didn't matter that I'd managed to save those strangers in the warehouse fire, or even the times I'd gotten my men out of harm's way. Anyone who died under my charge had been my fault. They had just been the first two casualties.

I stood and began pacing the length of my room. Maybe I should get it over with, tell her all about it and chase her away before I found myself wrapped up in her more than I should. Or, at least, more than I already was.

I wondered what would she say if I told her about the times my father had beaten my mother and sister, and I hadn't been able to stop him? Or if I told her about how, after my father had finally left, I'd started drug running for a local dealer to make ends meet? Or how, after I'd been arrested twice by the time I was sixteen, I'd agreed to turn on my dealer, Martinez? Nori would probably say that was good, but the retaliation Martinez had inflicted had negated any good I'd done.

He'd had my mother and sister tortured and killed, bodies left out where the paparazzi could get pictures of them, splash them all over every page so I couldn't miss them, even in juvie.

And it had all been my fault.

Some hero.

T
he rooms Father O'Toole
had set up on the third floor were impressive. After my disastrous reunion with X, the priest had taken me upstairs where he'd managed to convince me to still stay for at least the two weeks I'd promised. I didn't want to believe the father's fears about what X might do if I wasn't there, but I wasn't willing to take that risk.

Once I assured Father O'Toole that I wasn't planning on getting back in my rental and driving back to the airport, he showed me around the place that would, for the near future, be my home.

There was a full bath, as he'd promised, and much nicer than what I'd expected. Not really feminine, it also wasn't masculine, more of a nice in-between that matched well with the rest of the décor. While it had a door into the hallway, it also had an entrance into my bedroom so I didn't have to walk across the hall. With the memory of X emerging from the bathroom naked still fresh in my mind, I was grateful for that.

All of the furniture was quality enough that I knew I didn't even want to ask how much they cost. The electronics were all brand-new and state-of-the-art, even though they weren't ostentatious. Like the television was a flat-screen, but it wasn't massive, and there was no theater-like surround sound. It was comfortable, but not decadent.

The father left me alone after pointing everything out, and I started looking through closets and drawers, making a mental list of the things I'd brought with me, as well as the things I would need to get. Then I cautiously made my way back downstairs and out to the car to get my things. Part of me was relieved when I made it there and back without seeing X again, but I couldn't deny that another part of me was slightly disappointed. My insides were still tense from his words, and I wanted to know if he'd been sincere when he'd said he wanted me to go.

If he didn't want me here, honestly and truly wanted me to leave, then I didn't think I was the person the priest needed after all.

The thought that X might not have been thinking about me as much as I'd been thinking about him bothered me more than I cared to admit. Father O'Toole had been so sure that X would care about what I had to say, about my presence, that I'd believed I hadn't imagined the connection we'd shared back in Texas.

Now I wasn't so sure.

A
s the weekend wore on
, I began to think that my parents were right and this was a giant mistake. I didn't see X again until Saturday morning when Father O'Toole told me at breakfast that I should go to the therapy room to meet with the temporary nurse who would be filling me in on the progress X had made in the week since I'd seen him last.

Hador Kotcheff was a straightforward, competent nurse who seemed to be impervious to the insults X was heaping on him even as I walked into the room. They both looked up as I got closer, and I couldn't have gotten more different responses. X's entire expression hardened, his azure eyes going cold. Hador gave me a professional smile and came over, holding out his hand.

“You must be Nori,” he said.

I nodded as I shook his hand. “I am. I understand you're going to tell me what I need to know?”

“I've been here the past few days, but I heard you were one of his nurses in Texas, so you're at least familiar with his previous treatment.”

“I am,” I started to say.

X cut me off. “I'm sitting right here. You two might try talking to me instead of about me.”

I looked over at him, keeping my tone cool as I spoke, “If you have anything to add that isn't a complaint, I'm listening.”

Hador's lips twitched as X glared at me for a moment before looking away. Apparently, he wasn't going to be any more well-behaved today than he was yesterday.

I turned back to Hador. “Any complications in the past week?”

He shook his head. “Nothing except the sloppy dressings he applied himself after taking a shower.”

Right. The shower. The image of X's lean body, those defined muscles, the water...

I gave myself a mental shake and hoped that my cheeks weren't as red as they felt. I shouldn't have been thinking about X that way, not even if I intended to leave at the end of two weeks. Granted, I wasn't exactly going to be his nurse, but I still needed to maintain a professional distance.

Except the fact that I was here said that I was already caring too much.

“The room is really well stocked,” Hador continued. He stepped around the hospital bed where X was sitting, jaw clenched, face stony.

“How do I order more supplies?” I asked, forcing myself to look away from him.

Hador gestured toward a computer at the end of the counter. “It's set up to record all of the stats you take so you don't have to count on a paper or your memory. Father O'Toole also has an account set up for medical supplies. It automatically charges the trust for whatever you order.”

I wondered if Father O'Toole had measures in place to prevent anyone from mis-using the account, or if he was just that trusting. I hoped it was the former, even if it had only been a week that he'd had things set up. Someone could seriously take advantage.

“Anything that needs refrigerated or frozen, that goes here.” Hador tapped the small mini-fridge. “It's mostly ice packs.”

I nodded, not saying anything as I made mental notes about where things were. I knew I wouldn't remember them all, but I'd, at least, have an idea.

“I was just getting ready to finish putting on the bandages,” he said. “If you'd like to take a look.”

I wanted to say no, to leave X in his sullen mood and hope that he'd be better on Monday when it was just me and him. I couldn't balk though, and I knew it. I had to face it head-on, so I nodded.

By the time we were finished, the polite smile I'd kept on my face felt like it was going to crack. Hador had kept his professionalism and hadn't reacted to any of the nasty, snide things that X had said. I supposed it was a bit easier for him since he knew he wouldn't have to deal with X for much longer. Me, on the other hand, was getting a good look at what I had to look forward to if I decided to stay.

I walked with Hador to the door a half hour later. When we reached it, I expected him to leave with a polite farewell, but instead, he paused and looked down at me with a concerned expression on his face.

“I worked at a hospital for ten years before moving to home healthcare,” he said. “And it's a completely different thing. At a hospital, you have staff to support you and you make rounds and have shifts, but here, from what I understand, you're going to be on your own, living here.”

“I am.” I twisted my fingers together. The nerves I'd been trying to keep down were threatening to burst out.

“I don't know how well you knew him at the hospital,” Hador continued. “But he's in a dark place, Nori. He's not going to be easy to care for alone.”

My stomach tightened and I suddenly felt sick. I'd been sixteen when Logan had come home, unrecognizable. I knew all too well how bad things could get. Mom and Dad had tried to shield me, but I'd known more than I should have. And then...occasionally at work, I'd had flashes of memory, but this...what was happening here was feeling too much like deja vu.

I wasn't going to let it end the same way.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice firm. “I'll be fine.”

Hador gave me a searching look, as if trying to decide whether or not I was posturing or actually confident. It was a bit of both, so I hoped he'd see whatever it was he was looking for. Finally, he nodded.

“If you need any help, Father O'Toole has my number.”

“Thanks.” I shook his hand again and watched as he left.

For a moment, I rested my forehead on the door, wondering if I'd made a huge mistake. After a minute, I headed upstairs. I couldn't go back into that room, not even to let X know where I'd be. If he needed something, he was definitely healthy enough to find me.

I needed to get out of my head, remind myself why I'd taken this job. When I officially started work on Monday, I needed to be clear-headed and unemotional. I had to be able to see the big picture in order to make a smart decision.

I took a shower, letting myself enjoy the multi-spray shower head as well as the vastly larger bathroom than I had back in Texas. I put on comfortable clothes and settled on the stylish sofa in my maybe-temporary living room and attempted to find something on tv to numb my mind. I already knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on a book.

After an hour, I had to concede that I couldn't focus on tv either. I sighed as I turned it off. I had to get this shit out of my head or I'd never be able to sleep.

I needed to talk to somebody. It couldn't be either of my parents because they'd take it as a concession that I was wrong to move. I'd spend more time defending my motivations than I would actually assessing things logically. For years now, there had been one person who I'd gone to when I needed to talk, one person who I considered my closest friend.

Tanner.

I'd tried hard not to go to him, not to push the friendship we were able to end with. I didn't want to lose that, even if I didn't love him. Times like now were why.

I picked up my phone, hesitated for a moment longer, and then pulled up his number. The phone rang twice before he answered.

“Nori?”

“Hi.” I closed my eyes, a lump suddenly in my throat.

“Are you okay?”

He still knew me well enough to ask after I'd spoken only one word.

“Not really.” I felt the burn of tears against my eyelids. “I was wondering if you had some time to talk.”

“Of course.”

The kindness in his voice undid the last of my control and everything came pouring out. I told him about my parents and my job offer, about how I'd moved across the country to take care of a man I barely knew...but felt like I wanted to know more.

Except I didn't.

Maybe.

I didn't know anymore.

All of it came out in a rush, and he just listened at first. Let me get it all out.

When I finally fell silent, he spoke, “Babe, you know you could've come to me to talk this through before you left.”

I loved the fact that there was absolutely nothing sexual or condescending about anything he said. It was friendship and compassion, exactly what I needed right now. I felt some of the tension inside me start to ease.

“I thought I knew what I was doing,” I said. “But now...I don't know.”

“Why did you move?” he asked. “I know you gave me all of your reasons leading up to it, but if you had to choose one thing that would be your make-or-break reason for agreeing to fly to a city where you don't know anyone, and take a job within forty-eight hours of being offered it, what would it be?”

I made myself answer without thinking about it. “X.”

“The soldier.” It wasn't a question.

“I can't let him...” My voice cracked. “He's just so broken, Tanner. I can't...”

“I know.” His voice was soft. “I know.”

I brushed at my cheeks. He did know. He completely understood what I meant without me having to say all of it.

“If you came home, what wouldn't you be able to live with?” he asked.

“If something happened to him,” I said without having to think about it.

“Can you live with what will happen if you stay?”

I didn't answer this one right away. I had to think about it. Think about whether or not I could handle living here, doing work that I hadn't done before. Putting up with the shit I knew X would throw my way.

Could I live with those things?

If they meant I never had to live with X hurting himself, then yes, I could.

“Yes,” I said finally, my voice soft.

“Then you know what you're supposed to do.”

We exchanged a few more words, mostly pleasantries that proved we still cared about each other, and then ended the call. I set my phone aside and sat for a few minutes in the silence. I didn't know if Father O'Toole was still here or if X was awake, but this floor – my floor – was quiet. I let myself soak it in, all of it.

The job.

The city.

X.

I let out a slow, long breath.

I wasn't going anywhere.