Page 99 of Wine & Whiskey
14
Chapter Fourteen
“Don’t be afraid.” Nick extends his hand farther, enticing her to come to him. His raspy voice is barely audible over her pounding heart. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me.”
I’m afraid you’ll hurt me.
An argument rages between her head and heart as to which Nick sits in front of her. The one who probably loves her more than he loves himself, or the one who hurt her more than anyone ever has. Either way, fear doesn’t diminish her worry. “Are you in pain?”
He shakes his head, his eyes shutting for a few seconds before he swallows. “No, just tired.”
His hospital gown lies wadded on the floor, exposing his broad shoulders and chiseled torso as he sits on the side of the bed wearing only his boxers. The ability to bench press more than three hundred pounds rendered useless against the chemicals weakening his body and poisoning his mind.
He absentmindedly rubs his arm, squeezing his bicep. “Maybe a little sore.”
Just like their first gym date. Massaging his muscles, strained from Jason’s demanding workout, he humored her with the notion her favorite planks were the cause of his tenderness. An immediate hero and protector to her, he asked for nothing except her heart. Drawing her in like water to a cactus, he quenched the loneliness she inflicted upon herself. Now, she’s parched with fear.
“Then what are you doing up? You should get back into bed.”
“I needed to find you and make sure you were okay.”
No one but Nick would wake up in the hospital and have his first thought be about her. His relentless concern never wavers, even as he fights his own enemies. He seeks reassurance of her safety, unaware of the precariousness of their relationship through his unintentional volition.
“You might have fallen.”
Groggy eyes zero in on hers. “I would have crawled if I had to. You know I’d do whatever I have to do to be with you.”
Yes, she knows. She’s always known. The fear constricting her heart loosens. This is her Nick. The man she can trust. She has no reason to fear him.
As soon as she’s within reach, he grasps her waist and holds her against him. He kisses her temple before tucking his head into her neck. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Standing between his legs, she relaxes into his embrace, welcoming his tender caress of her head. “I’m supposed to be saying that to you. You’re the patient.”
“I don’t understand why. What happened to me?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Everything’s foggy. I came back from New York and then… I don’t know.”
The days are gone from his memory. No idea what he’s said or done to her. Or any of them. She glances at Max, whose nod is so slight she wonders if she imagined it.
He lifts his head, frowning as he studies her face. “Did you have to cut your trip short? Are you going back to New York?”
“No, I came back early this morning. It’s Sunday night.”
“Why can’t I remember?” His soft voice questions himself more than her.
Max lets out a long sigh. He dreads telling Nick as much as she does. “Nathan thinks you may have been drugged.”
“What the fuck?”
I’m fucking talking to you. Never fucking walk away when I’m talking to you.
She steps backward, out of his reach. His body may be weak, but his temper burns at full force.
“From the threats Spencer made to her, it looks like he laced your whiskey.” Holding up his hands, Max keeps his voice steady as Nick’s face flushes. “My guys have swept the office, house, and cars again, and they’ve dumped anything that can be ingested just to be sure—food, drinks, toothpaste, everything.”
Nick pushes himself up. “I’m going to fucking kill that bastard.”
