Beneath This Man (This Man, #2)(15)

‘That’s better.’ He looks at me and smiles. ‘It’s easier to handle if you’re not * footing around on the power.’

I could pin that statement on him. He is right, though, but I’m not telling him so. Instead, I concentrate on the road and getting him to the hospital in one piece.



After three hours in Minor Injuries and an x-ray, the doctor has confirmed that Jesse’s hand is not broken, but he has some muscle damage.

‘Have you been resting it?’ The nurse asks, ‘If it’s been a few days since you incurred the injury, I would expect the swelling to have subsided by now.’

Jesse looks at me guiltily as the nurse wraps his hand in a bandage. ‘No,’ he says quietly.

No, he’s been clenching bottles of vodka in it.

‘You should have been,’ she reprimands him, ‘And it should be elevated.’

I raise my eyebrows at him and he rolls his eyes while the nurse puts his arm in a sling before sending us on our way. As we get to the entrance, he removes the sling and chucks it in the litter bin.

‘What are you doing?’ I gasp, watching him walk out of the hospital doors.

‘I’m not wearing that thing.’

‘You bloody are!’ I yell, fishing it out of the bin. I’m shocked. This man has no regard for the wellbeing of his body. He has assaulted his internal organs with gallons of vodka, and now refuses to co-operate so his hand heals properly?

I stalk after him, but he doesn’t stop until he gets to the car. I’m holding the keys, but I don’t trigger the door release. We glare at each other over the top of the DBS.

‘Are you going to open the car?’ he asks.

‘No, not until you put this back on.’ I hold the sling above my head.

‘I told you, Ava. I’m not wearing it.’

I roll my eyes before narrowing them back on him. ‘Why?’ I ask shortly. The stubborn Jesse is back, but this trait I’m not so pleased to see.

‘I don’t need it.’

‘Yes, you do.’

‘No, I don’t.’ he mocks.

Good Lord! ‘Put the f*cking sling on, Jesse!’ I shout over the car.

‘Watch your f*cking mouth!’

‘Fuck!’ I hiss back petulantly.

He scowls real hard at me. What must we look like in the middle of the hospital car park, shouting f*ck at each other over the roof of an Aston Martin? I don’t care. He is such a caveman sometimes.

‘MOUTH!’ he roars, and then winces at the sound level of his yell, his bad hand shooting up to clasp his head. ‘FUCK!’

I burst into laughter as I watch him dance around in circles, shaking his hand and swearing his head off. That will teach the obstinate fool.

‘Open the f*cking car, Ava.’ he shouts.

Oh, he’s mad. I squeeze my lips together to suppress my laugh. ‘How’s your hand?’ I ask on a giggle that breaks out into a full belly laugh. I can‘t hold it in. It feels so good to laugh.

When I recover and straighten up, he’s looking at me fiercely over the car. ‘Open,’ he demands.

‘Sling,’ I snap, throwing it over the roof.

He grabs the material and throws it on the tarmac before returning his furious eyes to me. ‘Open!’

‘You’re a child sometimes, Jesse Ward. I am not opening the car until you put that sling on.’

I watch as his eyes narrow on me and the edges of his mouth lift into a concealed grin. ‘Three.’ he says, loud and clear.

My jaw hits ground. ‘You are not giving me the countdown!’ I screech disbelievingly.

‘Two,’ His tone is cool and casual, while I’m stunned. He leans his elbows on the roof. ‘One,’

‘You can get stuffed!’ I scoff, standing firm. I only want him to put the damn sling on for his own sake. It makes no odds to me, but this is principle.

‘Zero,’ he mouths, and starts stalking around the front of the car towards me, while I instinctively head around the back. He stops and raises his eyebrows. ‘What are you doing?’ he asks, circling the other way.

I know that face; that’s his you’re-really-copping-it face. I know he won’t think twice about pinning me to the ground and torturing me until I submit to whatever he demands through fear of peeing myself. What would I be submitting to, though?

‘Nothing,’ I say, making sure I keep to the other side of the car. We could be here all day.

‘Come here.’ His voice is that low, husky familiar tone that I love, and another piece of him that has returned, but I’m being distracted.

I shake my head. ‘No,’

Before I can anticipate his next move, he breaks into a full sprint around the car, and I dash off in the opposite direction on a squeal. People are staring as I weave myself through the other parked cars in the car park like a deranged madwoman, before I skid to a stop at the back of a high top, four wheel drive. I peek around the corner to see where he is.

My heart falls out of my mouth, straight on to the tarmac. He’s doubled over, his hands braced on his knees.

Shit!

What the hell am I doing encouraging such stupid behaviour when he should be recuperating? I run towards him as a few passersby clock him and start to approach. ‘Jesse!’ I shout as I near.