Page 7 of Two Risks I'd Never Take Again

The chair screeched as I dragged it closer to the bed. I slid my hand under his. “You were in the doughnut shop a few weeks ago.”

He tapped my hand. Just once.

“You asked me out.”

The thumb brushed my hand again about the same time one of my tears landed on the bed. I pictured how he’d lookedbefore someone pummeled his face.

“You told me X so that I wouldn’t know your name, huh?”

That thumb answered.

“I know I said I didn’t want to know your name, but now I need to know your name. Don’t you want me to tell your family that you’re okay?”

He tapped twice.

“What about Eli?” Offering that was a risk because then I’d have to come clean about what I’d done.

Another two taps let me off the hook.

“If you want me to stay, I need to know your name.” I could be bossy if need be.

The thumb moved back and forth. He wasn’t answering, just caressing my hand.

“Please. It’ll help clear things up with the deputy who thinks I’m crazy for picking up a stranger on the side of the road.”

The nurse walked in. “If we can get his info, we can send him home with a prescription for something a bit stronger. He’s probably in quite a bit of pain.” She set a clipboard down. “So, if you can get any info, that would be helpful.” Clearly, the curtains didn’t block the sound.

“Why can’t he talk?”

She glanced at the bed, and my mystery man nodded. “He’s got a case of vocal fatigue, it looks like.”

“Vocal fatigue?” I blinked away tears as the realization hit. “You yelled for help for a while?”

The tap felt more like another caress. He knew I was about to cry again.

“Okay. You let your vocal cords rest, and we’ll get this paperwork filled out. Deal?”

His thumb brushed my hand again.

I shouldn’t like the way it felt. “First name. A... B... C... D... E...” I snuck a glanced at his chest. It was obvious why he felt like a brick on top of me. “F... G...”

The tap stopped me.

“G.” I wrote in the first letter of his first name. This was going to take a while. “Next letter of the first name. A...”

He gave the signal.

“G A. Hmm. You don’t look like a Gary or a Gandalf. If you were Gandalf, you’d have a cool staff and a few hobbits following you around.”

He shifted and winced.

“Sorry. Let me think. Gabe or Gabriel?”

Nope.

“Gavin?” I kept my hand under his. “Not Gavin. You aren’t named Gallagher, are you?”

Two taps brushed against my hand.

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