Page 56 of London's Calling: Part 1
What the hell happened?
My thoughts are halted as voices seep into my mind.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“There’s no internal damage, luckily for him, but he lost a lot of blood.” There’s a click, then the rustle of clothing. “What’s the plan here, Veronica? He can’t stay here. If your fath?—”
“But he isn’t going to find out, is he, William?” Roni’s voice takes on an edge of warning, and she speaks again before he can agree. “Because we both know you have your own secrets my father doesn’t need to know.”
I slowly peel back an eyelid, catching Roni’s threatening glare and arched brow. It’s aimed at a man just out of my limited range of sight.
He coughs, stepping into my view a fraction, only offering me a partial side view. “Of course. He won’t hear it from me. But I assume a mutual silence is agreed.”
Roni nods. “You have my word.”
The man is silent for a moment, then he nods and leaves the room. Roni doesn’t move until she hears the front door close, even then her only reaction is a deep exhale. Sensing she’s going to look my way, I close my eye, keeping up the pretence of sleeping. No longer able to see, I hear her move closer to the bed and feel the heat of her stare.
“What am I doing?” she whispers a second before her fingers brush along my cheek.
It takes immense restraint not to react, not to lean into her touch like a damn pussy-whipped fool. Her touch disappears, then I hear the shower running.
Opening both eyes this time, I take in the IV attached to my left hand and the blood-stained gauze and empty packaging littering the bedside table and floor. Testing my movements, I attempt to sit up only to be slammed with a shooting pain through my side.
Taking deep breaths, I push through the pain and manage to haul myself to a half upright position. It’s not perfect and certainly not comfortable but at least I can see the full extent of the carnage.
My entire abdomen is bandaged, my clothes lie in tatters among blood-soaked medical supplies and the carpet is smeared with blood. Scanning the room further, I see a bloody handprint on the door frame.
“Christ, it’s a fucking blood bath,” I mutter, dropping my head back against the pillows.
“You should see the hallway,” Roni says, entering the room wrapped in a towel. “Not to mention the guest bedroom, and I’m guessing the stairwell to your apartment looks much the same.”
“It’s going to be a bastard to clean up.”
“No kidding,” she grumbles as she drops the towel, giving me an uncensored view of her arse, and digs out some clothes from the wardrobe.
I look away, aware that getting a hard-on right now is not only inappropriate but likely to be painful considering the unlikely possibility of getting any relief. Given the amount of blood I’ve lost, who even knows if there’s enough to flood my dick. Either way, I don’t plan on finding out.
I stare out the window and see an orange glow signalling sunrise. “How long was I out?”
“A good six or so hours,” she says, stepping into my view, now sporting a pair of joggers and a baggy jumper. She extends her hand toward me. “You need to take these before the morphine wears off.”
I groan and wince as I take the tablets from her. “Think it already has.” She hands me a glass of water, and I swallow the painkillers with a good mouthful of water.
She takes the glass from me, placing it back on the clean bedside table this side of the bed, then she stands there, arms crossed and clearly waiting for me to say something.
“I’m sorry?—”
“Sorry!” She scoffs. “Forget the fucking apology, Mickey, what the hell happened? You almost died!” Her voice rises on the last part.
“Yeah, but you saved me, Ice Queen,” I say winking and trying to make light of my near-death experience.
“This is not a damn joke, Mickey.”
“You think I don’t know that? I’m the guy with a hole in his abdomen.” I look up at the almost empty IV bag and begin removing the tape from the cannula.
“What are you doing?” Roni asks, hurrying around to the other side of the bed to stop me. “You need to finish the bag.”
I pause. “No, I need to get home and speak to my father. He wasn’t answering his phone last night, and I need to check on him.” I continue removing the tape, tossing it on the floor, but as I go to pull the cannula out, Roni stops me, gripping my wrist.
