Page 74 of The Way Back Home
That had been the first, but not the last, time she woke up in a cold, sterile room, with staff who were supposed to provide care and compassion but rarely did. Worse, winding up in the hospital meant more pain and punishment when she was released back into Tony’s “care.”
What would await her this time? She had nowhere to go. No one to go to. No family. No money. No job.
She swallowed, wincing at the raw burn thebreathing tube had left behind. Physical pain would fade. The shame, the fear, and the sense of emptiness would linger.
She needed to leave. To vanish before the questions came, before she was put to trial in the court of public opinion by people who didn’t know her, didn’t care, and wouldn’t believe her.
The soft scrape of a chair pulled her from her thoughts. She didn’t need to look to know who it was. Noah. The quiet doc with the white knight complex who felt compelled to help her for some reason. Things would have been easier if he’d just stayed away.
“I wanted to thank you,” Noah said quietly, “for the gift you left under the tree.”
Her chest tightened. She’d hoped to be long gone by the time he discovered it. Before he learned the truth about her less-than-idyllic past. Surely it was pasted all over the local news.
“You should go,” she rasped.
“Why?” he asked. “So you can slip away again?”
She closed her eyes. Yes, that was the plan. To slip away and start over someplace where no one knew her or her history.
Noah was too kind and too compassionate to walk away like he should. He’d sit stubbornly in that chair, watching over her, just as he had at Hopewell.
She didn’t have the energy to argue with him. And deep down in the farthest reaches of her heart, maybe she liked having him there.
At some point, exhaustion and whatever they were pumping into her veins overtook her. Her eyelids grew heavy, her body too tired to fight. Sleep dragged her under.
She dreamed of Noah’s cabin—of sunlight spilling through the kitchen windows, the smell of coffee and fresh bread. She was waiting for him. When he came in from the barn, she kissed him at the door. His arms pulled her close, steady and sure. For a moment, she felt safe. Wanted.Loved.
Then everything shifted. His touch grew rough. His words turned harsh and demanding. Dream Noah became Josh, slamming her face down on the table, his voice dripping with twisted devotion as he ripped her clothes and forced himself on her?—
NOAH
Noah’s eyes flipped open at the first rustle of sheets. Teagan’s movements were jerky, punctuated with broken, muffled cries.
He was at her side in an instant. She thrashed harder at his touch, swatting blindly. A nurse rushed in as her IV line was yanked loose, the pump beeping a shrill warning.
“She’s having a nightmare,” Noah explained as he held her upper arms lightly but firmly enough to keep her from hurting herself. “Teagan, it’s Noah. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
Her hands gripped him as desperate eyes finally locked on his face.
“There you are,” he said softly. “That’s right.” Without looking away from Teagan, he said to the nurse, “Reattach the line. Add point-five milligrams lorazepam, slow push.”
“I’ll need to check with her doctor,” the nurse said crisply.
“It’s a standing order,” Noah said, irritation threading his voice. When she still hesitated, he glanced at the med bag waiting to be hung. “Do it, or I’ll do it myself.”
She glared at him, then, with a huff, made the necessary connections.
Noah smoothed Teagan’s hair and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Don’t fight it,” he whispered. “Rest. I’ll be right here.”
Just that quickly, her body began to relax and she settled back into the bed. When her lids closed again, he tucked the blankets snugly around her.
The nurse lingered, her disapproval a tangible thing.
“Is there a problem, Nurse?” Noah asked.
She pursed her lips. After a moment’s hesitation, she lifted her chin and said, “Well, since you asked, yes. I’m concerned about your judgment, Doctor.”
“My judgment?”
