Page 40 of Butterflies and Hazel Eyes
“Charity!” Gulliver said when he reached me. “What hurts?”
“My head,” I said instantly.
I opened my eyes to gaze into two concerned pairs, a deep hazel and a bright blue. The guy with the blue pair spoke. “We need to get you out of the surf before you get too cold. Mojo has been bracing against you to keep you from floating out,” Mathias explained. “I’m sure he’s getting tired too. Does your neck hurt?”
I shook my head but stopped, grimacing when my temple throbbed with pain. “No, just the right side of my head. Help me sit up.”
Mathias braced a hand under my armpit and one behind my back, raising me to a sitting position. I moaned, but together we managed to scoot back out of the surf, and Mojo followed.
“What happened?” Gulliver asked, dropping his crutches and himself to the sand. “We came up from the basement to see if you wanted to grab some dinner when we heard Mojo carrying on out here. He wouldn’t let us get close enough to check on you.”
I started to shiver, the cold seeping into my clothes now that they were wet and the sun was almost set. “I—I was throwing his ball for exercise,” I explained, holding my head. “I was trying to decide if I should ask you to do something for my birthday tomorrow, and that’s the last thing I remember.”
Gulliver cocked his head at me. “Wait, it’s your birthday tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mathias put his hand on Gulliver’s shoulder. “We can talk about this later. She needs a doctor.”
I brushed Mathias away and got to my knees, the world tilting for a moment before it righted itself again. “Oaf,” I said, rubbing my temple while I sat on my knees. “I’m going to feel that in the morning.”
“You need to see a doctor, Charity,” Gulliver insisted. “You probably have a concussion. You could have a skull fracture for all we know!”
“Gulliver, relax,” Mathias said calmly, grasping his shoulder with one hand and steadying me with the other. “Tell us what happened.”
I pointed up the beach toward the grass behind the marina. “I had lobbed Mojo’s ball up there, and it got stuck under a boat. I saw him digging it out, so I left him to it. I was wading in the water and thinking, and that’s the last thing I remember until I heard him barking.”
Mathias’s lips thinned. “Which means someone purposely did this.”
I held my hand to my temple and grimaced. “I didn’t do it to myself.”
“We need to get her inside,” Gulliver said, his voice thick. “She’s going to get cold out here.”
Mathias nodded. “I’ll help her. You get your crutches and Mojo.”
I pushed myself to my feet, and Mathias steadied my shoulders until I could walk without stumbling. Gulliver set me down in his office while Mathias went in search of ice. I lowered my head to my hand to quell the pounding.
“Charity,” Gulliver said, falling to the floor to brush the hair off my face and inspect the spot on my head. “I want you to go to the ER. Butterfly Junction will pay for it. Let’s just get you checked out and make sure you’re okay.”
I brushed some sand off his beard, my gaze holding his deeply concerned one. “I’m okay. I promise. My head hurts, but a little bit of ice and ibuprofen will take care of that. I’m going to need a ride home, though. I can—”
“Gulliver!” Mathias yelled from the outer office, and we both looked up. “Come here, now!”
We both moved at the same time, me slower than Gulliver, but we both worked our way out to the reception area where Mathias stood with a bag of ice in one hand and his other hand pointing at something on Honey’s desk.
Gulliver moved toward the desk, but Mathias grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t touch it. We need to call the police.”
Gulliver leaned over and read the note aloud. “‘We know your people. No one is safe.’”
Gulliver turned back to us with fire filling those copper eyes. He was angry, and he wasn’t going to let anyone get away with taking something that wasn’t theirs. “Call Chief Flats. I don’t want anyone but him here dealing with this.”
“How did that note get there?” I asked, glancing between the two men.
“Did you lock the front doors before you went outside?” Mathias asked, jogging toward them to check.
“I don’t remember,” I said, rubbing my temple.
He peered through the glass door and shook his head. “The lock isn’t engaged.”
I walked back to Gulliver’s office and lowered myself to a chair. “I’m so sorry,” I moaned, my head resting on the arm of the chair again. “I totally forgot to lock the doors because I was working in the office all night and not at the reception desk.”
