Page 28 of Splintered Memories
“I’m not sure that I believe you.”
Her lips thinned, her gaze shifting from her blood on my fingers to my face. “I don’t want to go to the doctor. I want to go home.”
The look she gave me was the closest to desperation I’d ever seen on her features. I studied her, taking her in from head to toe. She did seem more stable on her feet, though one of my hands lingered on her hip. She was getting color back in her cheeks.
“Are you still dizzy?” I asked.
She paused, as if assessing herself. “Only a little.”
I didn’t like that. “Headache? Nausea?”
“No nausea,” she said, confident.
That was something, at least. I glanced around us. It was getting late in the afternoon, and I knew for a fact she had hardly eaten anything today. My first priority was getting her out of this alley and somewhere secure. Somewhere safe.
“Fine.” I relented.
Her eyes brightened, but I held up a finger. “I’ll bring you home, for now. I’m not making any promises, though, and I’ll be keeping an eye on you.” If she had a concussion, there wasn’t much a doctor could do for her anyway. She was standing and speaking coherently. If she didn’t want to be checked out, I couldn’t force her.
Emersyn nodded. “Okay.”
I held out my hand toward her, palm up. She stared at it, frowning.
“Your keys.” I wiggled my fingers. “I’m driving you home. No arguments.”
For once, thank God, she didn’t fight me.
10
August
Shewas…actingnormal.Normalfor Emersyn, at least—slightly surly with a dash of unpleasantness.
I sat in one of the armchairs next to her desk down in her studio. It had taken me a lot of convincing to get her to let me down here. Begging was probably a better word for what it was, but I’d meant it when I said I would keep an eye on her.
My laptop balanced on my knees as I checked emails and payroll and bills. I’d been keeping Hearthstone running as best I could while away from the office. It wasn’t easy. I’d had to hire out the security job contracted with the college, but a good buddy was willing to take that up for me.
Fox was taking care of everything else on top of his busy schedule, but things were tight.
I glanced up from my screen and at the woman who hadn’t left her desk in hours. She’d stuck a bandage over the gash on her forehead that looked comically large on her small face. A few specks of red had started to seep through the flesh-colored fabric backing.
My brows pulled together. “You should probably change that bandage sometime before you go to bed.”
Emersyn jumped, her head snapping toward me as though she’d forgotten about me. Emersyn worked like nothing else in the world mattered. She poured herself into it. No mindlessly scrolling through social media, no watching videos or episodes of her favorite show. She was hyper focused on the work in front of her.
For a while, she worked on a script for her show, fingers furiously typing as she glanced back and forth from the stacks of research she’d printed out and layered all over her desk. From what I could tell, she had everything from police reports to newspaper articles to transcripts of police interviews. She was thorough.
Emersyn blinked at me from behind her usual green-rimmed glasses. I was glad she’d put them back on. She was pretty without them, of course, but I’d missed them at the bridal shop this morning. They were just…Emersyn.
Her startled expression hardened as fast as it had come. That mouth tightened into a sharp line. “I don’t need to be coddled.” She looked back down at her desk.
She finished the script a half hour ago and moved on to organizing piles of what seemed to be merchandise for the podcast. She had business cards and stickers and pins and shirts with the podcast’s logo on it. She placed them all into neat piles from a large cardboard box.
“If you think I’m coddling you, then you clearly have never been coddled.”
“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”
Of course she could. I doubted there was anything Emersyncouldn’tdo.
