BAD BOY ROMANCE: DIESEL: Contemporary Bad Boy Biker MC Romance (Box Set) (New Adult Sports Romance Short Stories Boxset) (52 page)

“Better.” 

“I understand you want your bandages off.” 

“Yes.”  

Namir felt warm hands on the sides of his head and the bed began to move his upper body into more of a sitting position.  The gauze was pulled away from his eyes. 

“Now open them slowly.”  The Doctor Grant said. 

Namir blinked and felt only the mildest pain as the dim light of the room penetrated his eyes.  Only the edges of his vision was blurry.  He could see Taylor rocking back and forth chewing on her thumb.  Her large gray eyes worriedly watching. 

“Mr. Stone, I want you to focus on my pen and try to follow it with your eyes as I move it.” 

The doctor held up a blue ball point pen in front of his face and began moving it from left to right. 

“Good.  How’s your headache?”

“Dull.”

Doctor Grant glanced through his chart and smiled.  “Well, that’s an improvement.”  He looked at the nurse.  “Let’s go ahead and give him two Tylenol, and see if he’ll drink at least four ounces of water.” 

The nurse nodded and left the room.  Namir saw that she was a heavy set African American woman with gold and brown corkscrew curls on her head. 

“Alright, Namir.  I’ll let Doctor Curtis know and maybe you can have some breakfast in the morning.”  He smiled and nodded his head at Namir, and then at Taylor. 

“What about the fever?” 

“I’m going to order some more blood work, just to make sure there isn’t infection or some other problem.  It could just be his body healing itself.” 

Taylor looked at him doubtfully again. 

If you only knew.  Namir thought. 

The nurse returned with the water and two white pills that Taylor assumed were the Tylenol. 

“Try to get some more rest, Mr. Stone.”  She said.  “Just come get me if he needs anything.  I’ll check his temperature again in an hour.”

“Thank you.”  Taylor said, as the nurse left again. 

“She’s been one of the more competent ones.”  She said, taking her usual spot on the bedside. 

“How long have I been here?” 

“Almost three days.”

“So, it’s Tuesday?” 

Taylor smiled, pleased that he was so sharp.  “Yes.  At approximately eight in the morning, you will have been here for three days.”

“How’s Lancelot?”

“Greta’s taking good care of him.”  She casually took his hand in hers, locking her thumb over his. 

Namir looked at her with concern.  “You have dark circles.  You haven’t been home have you?”

Taylor shook her head.  

“You need to get some rest.  Go home.” 

“I will not.” 

“I’m sure Jason can look after you until I return.” 

Taylor’s face stiffened, and she slid her hand from his.  “You think I’m here because I’m too scared to go home?” 

Namir widened his eyes and ignored the pain that slight movement caused him.  “No!  I just see you’re tired!” 

Taylor considered his words, deciding he was telling the truth.  She took his hand again. 

“Is something else wrong?”  Namir asked, his words beginning to slur as he began to feel sleepy again.  “Damn, Doctor.  I think they gave me something to sleep too.” 

“No, you’re body just still needs to.” 

Namir tried to focus.  He could tell that something was wrong.  “Really, what else is going on?”

“Isn’t this enough?”  Taylor tried to smile, having no intention of telling him about    Harrison right then. 

Namir’s eyes began to flutter.  “No…something’s wrong…I can…smell it.” 

Taylor frowned as Namir once again drifted into peaceful sleep.  He can smell it?  She shook her head and snickered.  He says weird things sometimes.  

Harrison held the hotel to phone to his head a little too tightly and felt pain shoot up his ear and into his head.  His mother could be an intimidating but also infuriating woman. 

“I think you need to try harder to convince them of who you are.”  Her voice was smooth.  Harrison supposed that to a man’s ear she would sound alluring. 

“Taylor has some stuff going on right now.  I’ll just give it a few days.” 

“She’s a spoiled brat!”  His mother snapped. 

Harrison closed his eyes.  He’d heard that mantra for twenty one years.  “I’ll call you later, Mom.” 

In an instant she was back to her in complete control voice.  “Alright, son.  Make sure that you do.” 

Harrison sighed at the click on the other end.  He hated disappointing his mother, but this wasn’t something he could force.  All great plans take time and patience.  A lot of patience.                                     

Doctor Curtis came in just before nine and was happy to see Namir sitting up in bed.  He flipped open the chart, his eyes moving quickly. 

“Well, you’ve made quite an improvement.”  He stepped beside the bed and shone a pen light in each of Namir’s eyes.  “Does that hurt?”

“No.” 

“How’s the headache?”

“Almost completely gone.” 

“And your vision?”

“As clear as it ever was.” 

Doctor Curtis tilted his head with the slightest furrow to his brow.  “Really?” 

Namir nodded. 

“Impressive.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say we were witnessing a miracle.”  He winked at Taylor. 

“Can I eat?” 

“I’ll have the nurse bring you some crackers and ginger ale.  If you hold that down ok, I’ll let you have something else.”

Namir was positive he could eat the left side of a cow right then, but he didn’t complain.  “When do you think I can get out of here?”

Doctor Curtis put his hands behind his back, holding the chart against his lower back.  “If you continue to improve this rapidly, I think maybe tomorrow or the next day.  Eat your crackers, and I’ll the nurse get you up and test your walking skills.  Three days is a long time to be in bed.” 

Namir sighed.  “I wish I could get out of here now.” 

“I know.  Me too.”

The door to the hospital room opened and Constantine waltzed in with Jason. 

“Yeah I really wish we could leave now.”  Taylor mumbled. 

“Namir!  You’re up!  Fabulous!”  Constantine gushed, seating herself in the chair under the wall mounted TV.  She looked like she was ready to go to some kind of Gala premiere. 

Jason on the other hand looked like he had slept in his clothes again.  His light tan shirt was wrinkled and Taylor was sue there was a coffee stain on it.  “Jason, go home and change.”  Taylor said disdainfully.

“Can’t.  Little wifey won’t let me have my clothes.  Or my record collection for that matter.”

Constantine rolled her eyes dramatically.  “I told him to have the police escort him there.  She can’t hold his belongings hostage!”

Jason sipped his coffee, and Taylor had a suspicion that there was more than just cream and sugar in the cup.  “Yes, perhaps I will do that.”  He patted Namir’s knee lightly.  “Once our one man army is back home.” 

“He might be released tomorrow.” 

Constantine slid her eyes coyly to him.  “Will you need sponge baths?”

Taylor glared, her mouth opening to speak, but Namir topped her.  “If I need a bath, Taylor can give it to me.” 

Jason raised his eyebrows and watched Constantine over the rim of his cup.  She stared back, her lips holding a smirk.  “Well, well…now this is interesting.”

A short nurse, no taller than 5’1”, with short gray hair, came into the room bearing the gifts of crackers and ginger ale. 

“Now, don’t eat too many too fast.”  She looked up at Taylor.  “Make sure he only eats two at a time, then takes a break.  And only let him have a sip or two at a time as well.”  She took the white paper wrapper off of the straw and plopped it into the little can. 

Namir looked at it doubtfully.  “That’s a really little can.  I could snort that and still need more.”

She laughed and left the room. 

“Guess she doesn’t care.”  He grumbled and sipped the cold drink into his mouth.  He nearly swooned from the coldness and flavor. 

“Hey!”  Taylor said, and yanked the soda from his clutching hands.  “Too much!”  She frowned.

Jason motioned to Constantine.  “I think Nurse Randall has it all under control.  Let’s peruse the breakfast offerings in the cafeteria.”

“Ugh.  That place is filthy!”  Constantine complained, but stood to follow him out. 

Taylor handed Namir two crackers and watched like a hawk as he nibbled on them.  Constantine and Jason had only been gone for a few minutes before the detective that had been to the hospital the day of the bombing returned. 

He knocked lightly on the door.  “I see Mr. Stone is awake.”  He smiled, pulling his dark skin back from perfect white teeth. 

“He is.”  Taylor said and stood by the bed. 

“Mind if I talk with you for a few minutes, Namir?”

“Sure.” 

“I’m Detective Roberts, and I’m handling the case.”  He extended a hand, which Namir shook with as much strength as he could muster.  He didn’t want to seem weak to this man.  He had no idea why that was important to him. 

Detective Roberts flipped his notebook open.  “Please tell me as much as you can remember about Saturday morning.” 

Namir recounted everything from the time he checked the monitors to the point where he heard the hissing noise.  He purposefully omitted the part about smelling the air and crouching low. 

Detective Roberts looked at him steadily.  “You heard a hiss?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“How far away were you from the paper box?”

Namir shrugged.  “Ten or twelve feet.”  

Detective Roberts turned his attention slowly to Taylor.  “Miss Randall how long ago did the stalking type text messages start for you?”

“Months ago.”  She rubbed the side of her arm.  “My manager had my number changed twice.” 

“And when did Mr. Stone come into your employment?”

“Jason hired him while I was on a photo shoot in Little Cayman.” 

Detective Roberts closed his notebook.  “We’ll be in touch.” 

“Detective Roberts, may I have a word?”

“Certainly.” 

Taylor led the Detective into the hallway, as Namir stared suspiciously after her. 

I knew something else was up.        

Taylor looked at the detective and realized he was only slightly taller than her height.  “Sir, there is a young man named Harrison Badon that showed up here claiming to be my half-brother.”

“Had you ever heard of a half-brother?”

Taylor shook her head.  She tried to explain the trust fund, and told him that Harrison had claimed to have a trust fund too, and how he had called her house and Greta had told him she was at the hospital. 

“Who handled your trust fund?”

“Breslow.”

“Ok.”  He said.  “I’ll check it out.”  His brown eyes looked into hers.  “Do you suspect this young man?”

Taylor shrugged.  “I think it’s a strange coincidence.” 

Detective Roberts nodded.  “I’ll look into it.” 

Taylor watched him walk away, feeling uneasy.  What would it be like when they went back home?  

Taylor was a roaring beast as they helped Namir up the steps.  “Jason!  I told you to take it easy!”  She placed her hand on her forehead.  “I knew we should have asked for a wheelchair!”

“I’m fine, Taylor.  It’s just still a little hard walking.  My back’s still bruised.”

When they entered the house, Greta had been thoughtful enough to place Lancelot on his leash, so he wouldn’t jump on Namir and hurt him.  The dog perked his ears and barked once.  Namir commented that he looked like he had grown. 

“He looks more like a wolf every day.”  Greta said proudly.  “He even howled the first night the two of you were gone.” 

“Aww, we missed it, Namir.”  Taylor said with a pout. 

“Don’t worry.  It won’t be the last time he howls.  Will it boy?”  Namir said as he knelt slowly to the floor.  Lancelot licked his face furiously.  Taylor joined him and received a similar bath, as he strained against the leash. 

“Let me help Namir upstairs, then you can let him go.  Where’s Mother?” 

“Shopping.”  Greta said.

“Shopping?  The day Namir comes…never mind…it’s better this way.”  Taylor said as she began the slow ascent with Namir up the stairs. 

Namir’s head was completely clear, but for some reason his back injury was taking the longest to heal.  The doctor had said it was a deep tissue contusion, but there weren’t any fractures. 

Taylor frowned as his breath became short.  “I think we should have stayed one more day.” 

Namir shook his head.  “Saturday to Wednesday was just fine.” 

“Do you want a pain pill?”

“No, babe, I don’t like pills.”