Suit (The Twin Duo #1)(10)

I vaguely remember asking for more pain meds during the night, and I vaguely remember Paxton taking care of me. He laid in my bed with me and held me to his body while I wretched in pain. His lips kissed my head and his hand caressed my sore ribs.

The sun was bright and shining when I woke the next time. A glare on the sparkling white floor caught my eye, and then his. He was always there. Why? Why didn’t he leave?

Our eyes locked and we held a glance while I sat myself up more. Paxton stood and moved my cup of water to my lips. I sucked on the straw, welcoming the cold liquid.

I turned my head away when I had enough and accused him of what I knew. “I know what you did. You touched me.” The memory was faint, but I knew it happened. I felt his hand between my legs. With everything in me, I knew it was real.

Paxton set the cup back to the table and laughed. Full blown gut laugh. Even his eyes lit up. I turned my head when he leaned in for a kiss, causing him to miss. He placed it on the corner of my mouth. “Like I said. I own you and I own your pussy. I touch it whenever and wherever I want. Don’t forget that.”

I stared up to him, feeling completely off. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right. “You’re a psycho. I’m not leaving here with you,” I said with great assurance while I tried to back away.

“We’ll talk later. I have to run by a jobsite. Get some rest,” Paxton said with a caring tone and a kiss to my forehead. I watched him leave, staring after him in I’m not sure what. Shock? Disbelief? I was terrified. This man was bad. This wasn’t right. There was absolutely no way I was married to Paxton Pierce. No way in hell.

I was brought a tray of rubbery eggs and a cup of coffee shortly after Paxton had left. I tasted the cold toast, and snarled my nose at the eggs. Gross. Just like the nurse had promised the night before, I got up. Against my will, through all the pain, I walked on crutches a few short feet to the bathroom. The length of a football field was more like it. That’s what it felt like.

“We’ve been giving you a stool softener. Are you okay to sit here for a minute while I change your bed?”

I held the cold bar with my hand, trying like hell to deal with the pain. It was mostly in my chest and my right hip, the one with the blue brace, sticking straight out in front of me.

“I can’t,” I huffed. No way in hell was I doing that. I could barely sit there. Just peeing took the rest of my energy.

“Okay, just sit there and relax. We’ll get your bed changed and get you something for the pain.”

Needless to say, my resting on the toilet in the awkward positon brought forth number two. The nurse was right outside my door, humming to a familiar tune, but I didn’t want her. I fought through the pain to wipe myself, too embarrassed to ask for help. That decision was regretted along with the one to walk to the bathroom in the first place.

I was in so much pain. Not quite as much as the night before, but close. As much as a hot shower sounded amazing, I couldn’t do it. It was too much.

“You would feel much better if you let us help you shower. Maybe put a little makeup on for that good-looking husband of yours.”

“He’s not my husband,” I said out of anger, assuring the stupid nurse with an insolent tone.

“I’m sorry. I know this must be hard for you. That was inconsiderate of me.”

Well, damn. Her smile and soft tone attenuated my attitude. My stiff posture relaxed and I recanted, but only on the outside. The inside was still angry, confused, and fed-up. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I just wanted to wake up and know. Know everything. None of this was right. I didn’t feel like Gabriella Pierce. The gospel tune nurse Julie hummed sounded more familiar than this.

My shoulder felt like it was popping out of socket when I slowly raised my arm. I scratched my itchy scalp and I withdrew again. My hair felt disgusting and I suddenly felt dirty, but I was in too much pain. I couldn’t do it. The debate on whether to shower or not lasted for two seconds before I even made a decision.

“I’ll take a shower, but I need something for the pain first.”

“Good girl,” the nurse said with a pat to my shoulder. Thank God the shower had a seat right in the center. The embarrassment that I felt before was long gone. I didn’t mind a bit that she did the washing. Everywhere. The only thing that mattered was the pain. It was too much. I needed to lay down. As much as I wanted to brush my teeth, a quick drive by once over was all I could manage. At least it was better than nothing.

My hospital bed felt amazing. I was clean, my bed was clean, and I was ten times more comfortable than when I was up. As soon as my muscle spasms stopped, I relaxed and closed my eyes. My breaths whistled between my teeth and my hand gripped the railing on my bed, praying for comfort.

“Are you sure my hip’s not broken?” I asked through painful gasps. Julie moved my leg as little as possible, situating it back into the brace, securing it with straps.

“It’s not. You have a fracture right here,” she directed with her finger, just below my knee. “Your ankle has a fracture, too,” she explained.

I half listened, feeling the pain medication kick in. I gave up as soon as she covered my legs, dropping my head to my pillow. My hand pressed in on my right side, trying to ease the pain in my ribs and chest. The light above my head went out, and Julie told me to rest. I didn’t reply. I couldn’t reply. I hurt.