Bombshell: A BWWM Billionaire Amnesia Romance Suspense Novel (3 page)

Chapter Four

She came to, uncertain. Head throbbing. Cold.
Where am I?
Her eyes focused and she saw that she was in a car. A man sat beside her.
Who is he?
Where are we going? A tree branch brushed against the side of the car as they inched along, scenting the air with the smell of pine. The lights from the car bounced back off the thick cloud of fog covering the road and caught the planes of the man’s handsome face. He leaned forward, peering at both sides of the road. Was he looking for something?

The back of her head throbbed. Her hand went up to rub away the pain. Something was in the way. A clump of soft curls. It slid off into her hand, startling her. It was just a wig. She held it in front of her a moment, then let it fall into her lap. The pain was back. Worse than before. Her fingertips returned. Too tender to touch, but too tender not to touch. She found the spot and pulled her fingers quickly away. She looked at her hands. Why was she wearing gloves? In the dim light inside the car, she saw that the gloves were stained.

She held her gloved hand in front in the light, turning slowly around.
What’s going on?
She turned towards the man. He was wiping away condensation from the inside of the windshield with his elbow.

She placed her hand in front of him. “What’s wrong with my hands?” she asked. Her voice was not hers. Unfamiliar. The man’s eyes grew wide and she saw him open his mouth to form words. The pain exploded, and her arm dropped in his lap. His hand reached for her, and for a moment she felt his strength. Then she knew no more.

~~*~~

At the sight of the blood on her hand, Merrick almost ran off the road. He slammed on the brakes as she collapsed, then got out and raced around to the passenger door to help her back up. When he turned on the overhead cabin light, he saw the blood at the base of her skull. He tried to wake her up, but she was unconscious.

His heart raced. He didn’t understand. When had she been hurt? Then he remembered the shot against her window. But he’d spoken to her afterwards. She’d convinced him to take her to his place. How was it possible?

He pushed the car door all the way open so he could get better access to her. It was pitch dark, save for the lights from his car. Leaning her carefully forward, he used the overhead light to get a better look at her wound. Bile rose in his throat. How much blood had she lost?

Moving her ever so slightly to see her wound in the light, he groaned when something glinted. As he looked closer, his stomach dropped. Something that looked like glass poked out from the dark ooze. He looked back at her window. It had a huge crack in it, and some of the glass was missing. Some of it was in the back of her neck.

His hand went over his mouth and he muttered a curse. Stepping back out onto the street, his paced and tried to control his emotions even as his chest tightened with guilt. She needed to go to a hospital, but the nearest one was in Litton, two hours away. Maybe there was an urgent care facility or something?

His fishing cabin, if he could find it, was only minutes away, and his caretakers’ house as well. He’d take her there. Hadn’t Joann said on her resume that she was a retired nurse? He reached in his pocket for his phone, to let them know he was coming, but it wasn’t there. Had he left it at the bar? He checked his jacket in the backseat and all over the car. He didn’t have it.

He’d take the girl to his caretakers, assuming he could find the house, and then they’d know what to do. It was the only chance he had to make things right.

He used his jacket to prop the unconscious girl so she leaned forward. He couldn’t risk pushing the glass any deeper. Getting back in the car, he drove on, determined to find what he was looking for. He’d only been out to the cabin a few times before writing up his offer, so his memory was vague, and there was no cell phone and no GPS.

When he passed a house with a homemade mailbox made of mosaics, relief flooded through him. “Yes,” he said, so happy to spot a familiar landmark. The mosaic artist’s house was just down the street from his cabin. When he spotted the ornate iron gate to his property, he thanked God, but he kept going. He needed to get to the caretakers’ house.

He knew where they lived, because he’d purchased the house next door to his for them to live in so they could be at his beck and call. When he pulled into their dirt driveway, a security light came on. The fog wasn’t as thick now and he could see the lights in the house going on. He laid on the horn, hoping they’d recognize him sitting in the strange car and know there was an emergency, and that they wouldn’t come out with shotguns blazing. He’d had enough gunfire for one day.

“Merrick?” Charlie said, his hands raking his hair as he rushed out of the house in a bathrobe, shotgun by his side. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”

“I’ve got an injured girl in here,” Merrick said as he jumped out of the car and ran around to the passenger side.

“Joann!” Charlie yelled, but she was already on her way. Joann ran to the car and took charge.

“I’m a nurse!”

After Merrick explained about the glass in the back of the head, Joann directed the men on the proper way to carry the girl inside. Per Joann’s advice, they got her to the guest room and placed her on her side, propping pillows around her so nothing touched her wound.

“Tell me what happened,” Joann said while she examined the wound in the light of the bedroom.

“I’m not sure,” Merrick answered honestly. “Some guy was shooting at us, and he broke the glass, but she didn’t cry or anything, and we even had a conversation. But then she got tired and slept most of the way in the car. When she woke up just a few minutes ago, that was the first I knew she’d been hurt.”

“I’ll call 9-1-1,” Charlie said.

“No,” Merrick said sharply. He grabbed his employee’s arm before he could leave. “Don’t do that.”

“But you’re supposed to report all gunshot wounds,” Joann said, backing up her husband.

“First of all, it’s a glass wound, not a gunshot wound. But that’s not the point. You’re not going to believe this, but according to the girl, the person who attacked her and shot up my car is the sheriff – at least, that what she says.”

Charlie and Joann’s mouths dropped open. Merrick expected them to confirm what he’d been thinking all along, that the woman was deranged, making stuff up. Why on earth would an elected official like the Placid County Sheriff behave like that? Of course it couldn’t be the case.

She’d said that to keep him away from the law, so she could enable and protect some asshole boyfriend. Merrick would have been angry with the girl if he wasn’t so worried about her.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should call 9-1-1.”

But Charlie and Joann shook their head.

“Actually, it might very well be the sheriff. He’s got a reputation in this town, and I’d heard he’d been dating a black girl. It could be she’s telling the truth.”

At hearing that this girl had been dating anyone, Merrick stomach did an unexpected lurch. He shook it off. “So, we agree, no 9-1-1, but she needs a doctor. Is there an urgent care or something?”

“If she comes to and mentions the gunfire, the doctor will be obligated to call the authorities.”

The room fell silent.

“What about ol’ Doc Mitchell?” Charlie asked. “Isn’t he retired? Didn’t he have a run-in with the sheriff? Maybe he’ll keep his mouth shut, considering the circumstances.”

“Good idea,” Joann said. She left the room to make the call, and Charlie brought in two chairs to put by the bed. Merrick ran his hand through his hair as he looked at the girl in the bed. She was so beautiful and so talented. If she could just be alright. Please God, make her alright. Then he’d take her back to Atlantic City away from her crazy boyfriend and make her a star.

Minutes later, Joann returned to the room. “The doc says he’ll come, but, Charlie, you’ll need to fetch him. Old guy doesn’t drive at night anymore.”

While Joann and Merrick waited for Charlie to fetch the doctor, Merrick asked to borrow her telephone. He didn’t have his brother’s number memorized, but he knew the number to the front desk of the hotel. He called, and the operator recognized his voice and gave him Tony’s cell phone number.

“You dick!” Tony said the minute he got on the line.

“Shut up and listen, I’ve got trouble.”

Joann was in the kitchen making tea as Merrick brought Tony up to speed. “I need you, bro,” Merrick said.

“I’ll come as soon as I can.”

When Charlie returned with the doctor, Merrick’s first impression wasn’t good. The man had to be eighty if he was a day. He looked tired and bedraggled, as if he’d been dragged out of bed. But, after the doctor removed his overcoat and set about washing his hands, Merrick saw the man’s watery eyes still sparkled with a vast intelligence, and he relaxed.

After making his initial examination, the doctor asked Joann to assist as he laid out his tools on a clean towel covered with paper towels. Merrick held his breath as the old man picked up a tool from the tray. When he saw how steady the man’s hands were, he let his breath out. With the precision of a flight surgeon, the doctor used the surgical tweezers to latch onto the broken piece of glass with the utmost of care, pulling it out as Joann held the girl’s head still. A fresh spray of blood spurted from the wound, splattering the doctor’s thick glasses.

Merrick’s throat tightened as he held back a desire to help. The doctor didn’t even flinch, just efficiently placed the bloody glass and the precision tool on the tray provided by Joann, then turned his attention to applying pressure to the wound. After a few minutes, the bleeding slowed and Merrick felt guilty as he watched the doctor expertly clean and bandage the patient.

“Will she be alright?” Merrick asked. Realizing he was twisting his hands, he pushed them behind his back. What was wrong with him? Why was he behaving like a mother hen? What was it about this girl that made him want to throw up at the very thought that she might be in any serious danger?

“I believe she will be,” the doctor said, speaking over his shoulder from the small bathroom as he thoroughly washed his hands. “Her vitals are strong. The glass didn’t appear to have gone very deep.”

Merrick felt his shoulders let loose. “That’s a relief,” he said, finding the ability to smile for the first time since leaving the bar. “Then, that’s it? Just keep the bandage on?”

“Actually, I’d like her to go to a hospital as soon as possible tomorrow. I think an MRI would be advisable. Best not to mess around with head injuries.”

“Should I call a life flight tonight?”

“No,” he said, “it’s not that dire. Let her rest until morning. The MRI is just a precautionary measure, but my guess is she’s already out of the woods – just try not to let her move around too much for the next twelve hours.”

Merrick watched the doctor as he collected his tools, then closed his leather bag and headed out the room. Charlie stood by the front door, his car keys dangling from his hand, ready to return the doctor to his home. Merrick caught up to the doctor before he could leave. “Thanks again for coming out, please tell me what I owe you.”

“Nothing, I’m retired,” He said gruffly. “And don’t mess with that Sheriff, he’s dangerous.”

When he went back inside the cabin, Joann was bustling around in the kitchen. And despite the late hour, she insisted on making him a sandwich and a cup of tea.

“There’s nothing at the cabin. If I’d known you were coming.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”

Merrick was too tired to talk about things, but he ate the food and drank the tea. The food tasted like cardboard, even though he knew that Joann had excellent culinary skills and he attributed his poor appetite to the worry in his gut about that girl in the next room. Joann let out a huge yawn, and Merrick was about to take his leave, when a sound made him look towards the hallway.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. She stood in the doorway, hand on the door. Suddenly, he legs seemed to give and she almost collapsed.

Merrick and Joann both rushed to her side. And moved her back to her bedroom.

“Lie down, dear. You need to stay still,” Joann said.

The beauty allowed herself to be placed into the bed. She stared at Joann and Merrick and then at the room. “Where am I?” she asked.

“You’re with friends,” Joann said. “How are you feeling, dear?”

The girl took a moment to think, or so it appeared to Merrick.

“Thirsty,” she said as if trying the word for the first time. Then her hand wandered to her head. “My head hurts,” she said as if surprised by the revelation. “What happened?”

“You’ve got a small head wound, and you’ve lost some blood. But the doctor says you’ll be fine. We’ll be taking you to the hospital tomorrow for a closer look. You’re staying with us tonight, and you need rest. Let me bring you some water.”

“Thank you,” the girl said.

“Don’t let her get out of bed,” Joann whispered into Merrick’s ear before she left to fetch the water.

Merrick nodded, then sat on the edge of the bed, holding the girl’s hand. He noticed that the gloves she’d been wearing before were off her hands. Her dark eyes probed Merrick’s face, a million questions in her glance, then her hand closed around Merrick’s as if he were a life preserver and she was a drowning man. Merrick’s throat tightened. He gulped as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. He turned his face away and wiped away some moisture accumulating under his eyes with the back of his free hand.
What’s the hell wrong with you? Get a fucking grip.