Page 6 of Blossoming Dahlia

“I think we can be on the move by tomorrow morning as long as you don’t rip into any more doctors,” Hunter told her with a grin, and she nodded quickly, rubbing her injured hand. “For safety’s sake, you’ll drive back with us. Plane travel would bequicker, but there’s too much potential for the press to find out, and we don’t want to draw any attention to you,” he explained. “Are you comfortable sticking with us for a bit?” he asked, and I noticed that her eyes darted to me first before settling back on him. Did I make her uncomfortable?

“That’s fine,” she replied. “I don’t mind a car ride.”

Hunter smiled. “You say that now, but just wait until Asher begins his two-hour lecture on how modern agriculture is leading to the inevitable downfall of civilization.” He laughed, clapping me on the shoulder, making her laugh.

“It is though,” I insisted. “We have crops that are basically just clones of each other; one disease could wipe them off the face of the earth.” I thought it was a fascinating topic, but Hunter hadn’t been as interested when I tried to explain it to him.

“You mean like how the Gros Michel banana was wiped out?” Dahlia asked, and I nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Exactly! See, other people find these things interesting too.” I grinned, shooting Hunter a smug look.

Hunter just rolled his eyes and waved us away, walking toward the door. “Ugh, I’m going to need to get some sleep if I’m going to survive a car ride with the two of you,” he announced. “I’ll be here in the a.m. with coffees.” He shot Dahlia a smile and slipped out of the room, leaving the two of us to talk.

Chapter six

Dahlia

There were worse ways to spend an afternoon than chatting with a cute not-quite-FBI agent. Asher and I ended up talking about genetically modified crops for a few hours, before he somehow changed topics and got me talking about the day I’d been abducted. He did it so seamlessly, I couldn’t even be mad at him, and I found that it was a little easier to talk about it when it was him. I tried to recall as many details of the day as I could, and whenever I faltered, he was there asking an innocuous question that helped dredge up some forgotten detail.

At some point they brought me food, plain toast and a fruit cup. According to the nurses, my stomach wasn’t ready for anything fancy just yet, so I had to ease my way into normal food again. I inhaled my sad-looking lunch with vigor, happy with anything that wasn’t gray sludge.

The nurses didn’t try to sedate me again, which was a relief. They did insist on giving me something for the pain though, and it made me feel pretty fuzzy. I was not sure when exactly I’ddrifted off to sleep, but I woke up sometime in the early morning when it was still dark.

I hated the groggy feeling that the drugs gave me, not to mention the dry mouth. I leaned over to grab my cup of water off the nearby table, but my fingers stopped cooperating, and I ended up knocking it off the table. It clattered to the floor and splashed water everywhere.

“Fuck,” I mumbled and pushed off my blankets, crawling out of bed to grab the cup. Of course, I didn’t see any paper towels or anything, so I just grabbed a handful of tissue paper from a nearby box and tried my best to mop up the mess.

“Everything okay?” Asher asked, and I jumped up from the crouch I’d been in, knocking my head against the table. Hands caught me before I could do something dumber, like slip in the puddle and land on my ass. I rubbed my head and stood up more carefully.

“I was trying to clean up the water,” I explained, and we both looked at the soggy lumps of tissue now piled up on the floor.

“You don’t need to risk opening your stitches over a little water,” he told me, and I bristled at the hint of scolding in his tone.

“I’m not letting some poor nurse slip and injure themselves just because I’m clumsy,” I snapped, wrenching my arm out of his grasp.

He looked a little startled, then smiled apologetically. “I just meant, you should ask me next time. I don’t mind cleaning up a tiny spill,” he explained, and I felt bad for snapping. To further emphasize his point, he bent over and started scooping up the tissues. I looked around to find a trash can for him, and yelped when I saw a face staring at me through the window in the door.

Asher dropped the mess and whirled for the door, stepping in front of me immediately. I saw a flash of light and flinched instinctively, throwing my hands over my face. Asher lunged forthe door, clearing the space in the span of a heartbeat thanks to his long legs. I was much slower, due to my fear and the stupid IV I was tethered to. I shoved the door open and found Asher outside, pinning a man to the nurses’ counter, twisting his arm behind his back.

The man cried out in pain, swearing up a storm, and I saw a deadly look in Asher’s eyes that I didn’t think he had in him. “FBI!” he snapped. “Identify yourself.”

“Press! I’m press!” the guy yelled out. “I was sent to get photos of the Doll Maker’s last doll! I’m just doing my job man!”

The Doll Maker’s last Doll?

My stomach twisted, bile rising up in my throat. The man yelped again, and I saw Asher’s hand jerk his wrist up at an angle.

“I could charge you for interfering with an active investigation,” he explained coldly. “But I think I’ll just take this into evidence and let you off with a warning.” He jerked the guy’s camera away from him and shoved him away. He turned and looked like he would come after his camera, but Asher just rested a hand on his gun, which was visible on his holster. The guy muttered something under his breath and stormed away, rubbing his injured arm.

I retreated back into my room as Asher stormed back inside, still clutching the camera. The nerdy doctor had disappeared, replaced by an imposing tower of simmering anger. I eyed him nervously as he slammed the door and tossed the camera in the nearby trash can. As soon as his eyes met mine, he softened and the tension melted away from his shoulders. “I’m really sorry about this, but honestly it’s shocking that it took them this long to find you.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll let Hunter know we need to leave earlier than planned.” He began dialing as he spoke, wandering over to the corner to talk in a quiet, rushed voice. I sat down on the edge of thebed, my stomach still rolling from what that man had said. The door swung open and I flinched, but it was only the nurse from last night. She looked concerned and shot Asher an irate glance before focusing back on me.

“Are you alright? You should get back into bed,” she told me, coming over to my side.

“Change of plans actually, Ms. Porter needs to be discharged immediately,” Asher announced, walking up to us. “Someone leaked her presence to the press, and I’m sure it’ll be absolute chaos here soon. For the sake of her safety and the safety of your other patients, we need to get her out of here.”

The nurse pursed her lips together, bristling at his tone. Asher seemed to annoy a lot of people with that no-nonsense tone of his, which did sound quite cold and indifferent if you didn’t know any better. I looked down at my bare feet and cringed. “I don’t have any clothes or shoes,” I murmured, and they both looked at me.

“Oh damn, we got some things for you, but Hunter has them.” Asher winced, looking around the room. “Maybe you could borrow my shirt?” he offered, starting to unbutton the shirt he was wearing immediately. I bit back a laugh; his shirt was white and definitely wouldn’t cover much of anything.

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