Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(23)

Instead, I close my eyes, sink back into the softness of the pillows behind my head, and I let myself drift.

.

.

.

.

.

I pass in and out of consciousness for a while, vaguely aware of what’s going on around me. Sometimes I’m dragged out of sleep because I hear a strange voice, or loud beeping, or because soft hands are gently prodding at my wrist. Most of it’s just background noise. Eventually, the room seems a bit dimmer than it was earlier, and I’m able to open my eyes without the blinding pain that accompanied the action earlier. I turn my head—or try to, at least—and let out a soft moan, because…ouch.

“Mia?”

The voice belongs to Caleb, and he’s still clasping my hand. I feel his touch on my face, cupping my cheek as the pad of his thumb slides across my cheekbone. My eyelids flutter open, and yeah. That hurts. Too much light, just…too much everything.

I manage to make a sound that comes out kind of like, “Mrphf.”

When my vision clears, all I can see is Caleb’s face, full of worry. “Shh,” he says gently. “Don’t try to talk. You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.”

Going to be okay? My eyes widen, and he must read the surprise on my face, because…how did I get here in the first place?

“You hit your head, Mia,” he says, sounding about as scared as I feel. “Someone pushed you, and you cracked your head against the cement. There isn’t anything abnormal on any of your scans, but the doctor wants to keep you overnight. Do you remember what happened?”

I have to push through the drug-induced cobwebs that are clouding my mind, and think incredibly hard. It’s like the memories are there, just out of reach. I can almost grab onto them, clasp them between my fingers as they threaten to float away. It takes everything I’ve got in me to focus on remembering whatever it was that landed me in here.

I remember walking, and talking to Caleb on the phone. I was going to his place, I think, or…meeting him for dinner. I feel like we might’ve argued about something…a car. I remember, he wanted to send a car to pick me up, but I wanted to walk…

Oh god.

Oh my god.

My bag. Someone ripped my bag off of my shoulder and ran off with it, after punching me in the face and apparently leaving me unconscious on the sidewalk. My head is throbbing, seemingly in time with my racing heart, and when I sit up I think my brain might burst right out of my skull.

“My bag,” I say, trying to swing my legs over the side of the bed, because that seems like something that might quell the nausea. All it manages to do is make me feel like I’m going to pass out.

“Mia,” Caleb says soothingly, standing up so he can rub my back. That makes me feel marginally better, but not much. “Don’t get worked up. We can replace your things.”

I shake my head weakly, as much as the unrelenting throbbing will allow. “You don’t understand,” I tell him, unable to stop the tears that are streaming down my face.

Caleb looks confused, and desperate to help me. Desperate to make it better. “Whatever was in there, I can replace, Mia. I’ll help you, please don’t be upset. You’re…you’re going to make things worse.”

I’m safe, I’m cared for, and apparently I’m going to get out of this with nothing more than a swollen face and a headache. I know things could be worse. I know they could, but desperation is closing in, making my chest tight, tugging at whatever rational thought is left inside of me.

“It was everything I had,” I say quietly, telling Caleb more than I know I should. I think the painkillers combined with the head trauma are making it difficult for me to keep my damn mouth shut. “You don’t understand.”

Caleb opens his mouth to reply, but a nurse walks in, effectively cutting him off. She’s a friendly, older woman with short white hair. “What’s the matter?” she asks. The kindness on her face and in her voice immediately puts me at ease. “You’ve gotten yourself all worked up, and that’s not good. Take deep breaths,” she says as she inhales, and motions to her chest, indicating that I should follow her lead.

I do exactly as she does. Deep inhale, deep exhale. Over and over again.

“Let’s see if we can get something to calm you down, okay?”

I nod. Being calm sounds really good right now, and I definitely need pharmaceutical help to get me there. “Okay.”

When the nurse leaves the room, Caleb helps me lie back on the bed, and smooths my hair off of my face.

I lean into his touch. “What’s wrong with me?”

“They want to make sure your head is okay,” he says quietly. He’s very patient, despite the fact that I get the feeling I’ve asked him that before, and he had already given me an answer. “You also have some swelling around your cheekbone and your eye.”


“I can tell,” I say as I reach up to feel for the damage, but Caleb catches my hand and folds his fingers through mine. “How did you find me?”

“I was on the phone with you, when…” he trails off. I realize for the first time since I woke up that he must’ve heard everything that happened to me while he was on the phone. “A nice woman stayed on the phone with me to let me know what was happening after she called nine-one-one. I arrived at the hospital right as they were bringing you in.”