Wyatt had his chance, and he blew it.
I hated the way he looked at me.I hated being cuffed to this bed, forced to sit in a hospital where I’d never felt safe.It was the same hospital Wyatt had taken me to the night he found me.I hated the fog in my head from the pain meds I’d choked down on a sip of lukewarm water.But mostly, I hated how good Wyatt still looked, and the way I couldn't stop looking back.
So, I fixed my gaze on the ceiling lights and refused to look away even when I started seeing spots.I already had a killer headache from the tire iron, but the fluorescent tubes didn't help.They filled the room with a sterile glow so bright I felt like I was being abducted by aliens.Maybe that’s why my near-sighted doc had his nose smashed in my armpit while he probed my ribs.
“Does that hurt?” he asked, pressing hard on the rib just below my left pec.
Sweat broke out across my forehead, and I had to grind my molars together to keep from making noise.“Nah, feels great,” I gasped.
“You may have fractured your seventh rib.That’s the area most affected by a punch to the kidneys, so it’s a common injury among a certain…demographic.” He tapped something into his tablet, using one finger.“No flail segments, no signs of internal damage.We could do an X-ray to confirm, but I see you don’t have insurance.You might as well save yourself the bill.”
“Run the test,” Wyatt ordered from his brooding corner.“I’ll cover it.”
I shot him a warning glare. “You’re starting to piss me off."
"Is that supposed to scare me?"
"It’s just some busted ribs and a knock on the head," I gritted out through clenched teeth."I’ve gotten worse from Dominic when he's in a bad mood.”
“You have a moderate concussion,” the doctor added, squinting between us over the rim of his glasses and looking remarkably unimpressed.“Protocol is rest and limited screen time for a minimum of forty-eight hours.Longer would be better, but?—”
"That's what she said," I interrupted, just to be annoying."I'm fine. Slap some tape on it and stop fussing.”
The doc’s lips twitched, but I had no idea if it was irritation or amusement.“Yes, that’s more or less what I expected.I’ll send a nurse to bandage you.Don’t go anywhere.” He glanced down at the cuffs locking me to the rail, chuckled to himself, and then whisked out of the room with a flap of his white coat.
A suffocating silence filled the room the moment he left.My eyes began to water from staring at the overhead lights, so I let my gaze drift.Wyatt hadn’t moved an inch. He was still watching me.Those dark, intense eyes never blinked.
Slowly, he pushed off the wall and crossed the distance between us.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up, and I jerked against the cuffs.Escape.The word repeated with the tripping of my pulse.Escapenow,before I made a fool of myself, like I always did around him.
“I’m fine,” I blurted, cutting him off before he could launch into whatever lecture he was gearing up to deliver.“I took worse hits every night when I was bouncing for bars on the strip.These guys were lightweights.Crazy they didn’t finish me off when they had the chance.”
“Amateurs, like you said. They probably panicked,” Wyatt replied in a voice that rumbled up my spine.“But you were reckless. You need to be more careful.”
My skin prickled with humiliation.“I don’t need your concern, Deputy Brooks.”
His lips quirked at the corner.“Maybe not. But you’re getting it anyway.”
Just that hint of a smile was enough to send a bolt of lust shooting straight to my groin.I shifted uncomfortably, angling for a position that eased the ache.Those dark eyes were drowning me, but now that I'd bit the bullet and looked at him, I refused to be the one who looked away first.
Wyatt’s gaze held mine, searching, and then dropped deliberately to my mouth.
“You keep making things hard on yourself,” he murmured, reaching out to brush the steel bracelet on mywrist.The touch jolted me upright, and his eyes tracked downward, landing at the base of mythroat.Right where I could feel my pulsehammering.
“Maybe I like it hard,” I snappedthoughtlessly.
Wyatt’s smile only grew. He leaned in, close enough that his breath skimmed over my cheek, and whispered, “Iknow.”
Oh,fuck.
The sudden boom of a man’s deep baritone snapped the tension, and both our heads whipped toward the sound.Sheriff Kent Vanderhoff filled the doorway, radiating disapproval like God's own judge.Barrel-chested and stuffed into a spotless uniform, he stared me down with the same superior expression that had always made me want to put my fist through something.Usually his face.
Wyatt slipped in front of me so casually, so naturally, it looked like he was just shifting his weight.But I knew better. He’d positioned himself between me and Vanderhoff like a buffer.But which of us was he protecting?
"Well, look who came crawling back into my town," he drawled, thick and syrupy, like a cartoon version of Colonel Sanders."Right back to chapping my ass, too.But you're an adult now, boy, and your daddy's not here to protect you anymore.We're not letting you go this time."
"We haven't gotten a full story yet, Kent," Wyatt cautioned stoically.