Page 5 of Toy

2

Jolie

“Rise and shine!”

Mason groaned as he stirred. “What time is it?”

I smiled and set a tray of breakfast foods down on the bedside table. “It’s after two, but I didn’t want to wake you yet. You looked peaceful.”

“Is that bacon?” he asked, covering a yawn.

I nodded. “Bacon, eggs, toast, fried tomatoes. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay. It’s my favorite.”

He rubbed his eyes and tried to prop himself up on one elbow. I rushed to the bedside. “Wait. Don’t try to sit up. Watch this.”

I grabbed a remote from the top of the bedhead and pressed down. There was a soft humming sound as the upper portion of the mattress began to move upwards, putting Mason into a seated position.

“This way you won’t accidentally burst your stitches by moving too much,” I said. “Cool, huh?”

“Yeah. Are we in your apartment?” Mason asked, looking around with furrowed brows.

I nodded. “You know, that’s the ninth time you’ve asked me that,” I said with a teasing grin.

“Really?”

“Yup. You’ve been on some very strong painkillers since they let you out, so you’ve been forgetting a lot.”

Before being discharged into my care, Mason had spent seven days in the hospital, undergoing surgery and treatment for his wound. The bullet had lodged itself firmly between two lower ribs on his right side. Despite the massive blood loss he’d experienced, it was actually quite a clean and fortunate shot. The bullet hadn’t hit any organs, and it hadn’t left any shrapnel floating around.

A week ago, the doctors told me that it was finally safe for him to be discharged from the hospital, but his dressing needed to be carefully changed multiple times a day, and he would also need to be cared for and monitored due to the painkillers they had him on. I organized for him to come and stay at my apartment on St. Andrew Street, and I decided not to spare any expense.

I got in contact with the security team he’d hired to monitor the place to make sure they were still around to keep us both safe, and I also hired a nurse to come around twice a day to check on him while he was still recovering. On top of that, I transformed my bedroom into a private hospital room with everything he could possibly want or need, along with the adjustable king-sized bed. My old bed was in storage for the time being.

“Where’s your bed?” Mason asked as if he’d read my thoughts.

“Storage.”

“How can you afford one of these adjustable ones? They’re usually somewhere around five grand,” he said, forehead creased with concern. “I don’t want you sending yourself broke because of me.”

I smiled again. “A certain someone recently transferred several million dollars into my bank account. I decided to spend some of it.”

He looked at me sheepishly. “I forgot about that,” he said. “So how long have I been here?”

“A week.”

He yawned again as I placed the breakfast tray in front of him. “I honestly had no idea. I swear, the last thing I remember seeing is some paramedic’s face while he and his colleague loaded me into the ambulance. When was that?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Jesus.” He shook his head and took a bite of toast. “I must be annoying you by making you repeat everything.”

“Of course not. I’m happy to do it,” I said, sitting at the end of the bed and patting his legs under the sheets. “Besides, it’s not your fault. It’s the painkillers. They totally zonk you out. The other day, they actually made you talk in your sleep. You were dreaming about kangaroos for some reason.”

He swallowed his mouthful of food. “I just remembered the weirdest thing. I think I also dreamed that Lauren was here. Your old friend. Not that she’s weird. It’s just that I haven’t seen her in years.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a dream,” I said. “She’s studying nursing at the moment, so I let her come over and help the nurse I hired to check on you, just so she can get some extra practice. She was here about six hours ago to change your dressing. I hope you don’t mind.”

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