Page 12 of Blue-Eyed Jacks
“That’s the name, don’t use it where ears can hear, got it.Call me Bill for now.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.“Bill.I don’t even know if they saved what I came in wearing.”
“Mercy Hospital.Fuck that’s by the river.I’ll have to make a couple of stops.Are you calling from a hospital phone?”
“Yes.”
“Double fuck.After you hang up here, call a couple random numbers.At least one business, got it?Keep them on the line as long as you can.I need you to stall for four.”
“Hours?”
“Kate, do you want help or not?”
My life depended on it.“Yes.”
“Stall.And make a trail of numbers so this isn’t the only one.I’m ditching this phone as soon as I can.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank me when we’re as far as fucking possible from where you are now.Until then, keep your shit tight.Understand?I don’t do fucking crying or hysterics, got it?”
“Got it.”I would not be that woman.I managed this far.I could do a few more hours.Or days, or months, or for-fucking ever if necessary.As long as I was free.
“No fucking clothes.Sheee-it.That’s a man’s wet d—” He hung up, still talking.
Three hours and forty minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door.I clutched my blanket, worried someone had found me.
Jackson stuck his head in.I hadn’t paid much attention that night, but he was handsome.Devilish arched eyebrows, little smile lines forming along the outside of his blue eyes, and a well-kept beard.His hair was light brown, short, and a bit messy, but trimmed cleanly around the sides and back.He wore a dark gray wool coat and a brown scarf.Under it, he had a polo shirt and gray khakis.He didn’t look like any biker I’d ever met.And he was carrying a large shopping bag with the local discount store logo plastered on the sides.He was everything a contemporary white knight should be.
Then he opened his mouth.“You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks.I almost died.”A slight cough came out, and I held my ribs where I’d pulled several muscles that still ached.Just sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed winded me.
He set the bag down on the bed.“I guessed a size small on most of it but added medium in the mix.”His gaze was glued on my bare legs.There were fresh bruises and scrapes on my knees and finger-shaped bruises on my thighs that had turned an ugly green.
“Underwear?”I wheezed.This wouldn’t work if I couldn’t breathe.I dug into the bag of medicine on the night stand, pulled out the inhaler, and took a long puff.
He pulled out a red lace boy short style and set it on my lap.
I glared at him while taking the second puff.
“You said no clothes.”
I let out the air and coughed once.“I suppose the bra matches?”It hurt to bend over to pull the undies on.
The corner of his mouth went up.“No bra.”His eyes dipped to my chest.“I didn’t remember the size.But I’d guess at least a thirty-four C?”
“Thirty-two.”But he got the cup size right.
His mouth formed a little “oh.”And his eyes hadn’t moved from my tits.“Pink nipples?”
If I wasn’t dependent on him, I’d kill him.“You willneverknow.”
That snarky reply took his attention off my tits.His grin got bigger, and he bit his bottom lip.“Okay.Do you need help getting dressed?”
“No.”I climbed to my feet, holding onto the metal frame in case I got dizzy again.
“Are you sure?”His eyes trailed down my legs.
