Page 41 of Guarded Secrets
Thank god, because she had all sorts of warm tingles dancing along her skin, and him being mad at her would ruin them.
She contemplated his response. “Wait, if you like me, why have you always treated me like I’m a disagreeable pain in your butt?”
“Because you are a pain in my butt. You stir me up when I don’t want to be stirred up. But, princess? We’re not talking about this now. Do what I told you to do.”
Rolling her eyes was a mistake because it made her head hurt. “You are one frustrating man,” she muttered.
She put the bloody tissue on her lap and got out her phone. She texted her mom that she was on her way to the clinic, and then made the call to dispatch.
A wet trickle on her forehead told her the wound had started bleeding again.
“There’s a bandanna in the glovebox. It’s clean. Use that.”
She found the bandanna and flipped down the visor to use the mirror. Even though it made her look like a retro hippie chick from the 80s, she folded the bandanna into a headband and tied it around her head.
Owen parked in the brightly lit parking lot behind the clinic. She opened the door and he rounded the hood. When he looked ready to scoop her up in his arms again, she put up a hand. “Nope, I’m walking in.”
If she was cradled in his arms again, she might refuse to let him go.
The automatic sliding doors of the clinic opened and they walked in and joined the short line to check in. Keeley glanced around. A couple leaning against each other dozed on a bench. An elderly man held the hand of an equally elderly woman as he walked with her to the waiting nurse. And a twenty-something young man wearing sunglasses sat with a shoeless, swollen foot propped on another chair.
There was nothing more depressing than an emergency room in the middle of the night.
Sitting next to Owen under the ugly fluorescent lighting, she filled out paperwork attached to a clipboard. With her insurance card in the possession of the thief, she gave silent thanks her primarydoctor was with the clinic, which meant her information was already in their system.
The triage nurse who introduced himself as Juan called her in fairly quickly. She tried not to look surprised when Owen rose to come with her.
He caught her look. “I’m making sure you don’t sweet-talk them out of stitches.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I know you. You can be stubborn.”
She was still shaking her head over that when Juan took her vitals. Her blood pressure and heart rate were higher than normal, but she attributed that to Owen’s broody presence. The man wound her up.
Juan confirmed that yes, indeed, she needed stitches and she’d be called back shortly. Owen snagged a packet of wipes, and when they got back to their seats in the waiting room, he tipped up her chin and used the wipes to clean the blood from her face. Given the dark stain on the wipes, she must’ve looked like an extra in a horror movie.
Owen’s touch was gentle despite his jaw clenching hard enough she thought he was in danger of cracking a molar.
“Are you okay? You seem tense.”
His gaze dropped to hers and she caught her breath. That rage she’d thought he was bottling up? It looked ready to break loose and wreak havoc.
She gripped his wrist. “Owen.”
He leaned toward her, his expression fierce. “Someone hurt you, so no, I’m not fucking okay. I’m going to find who’s responsible and make sure they never touch you again.”
Hoo boy.
A deputy she didn’t recognize came in, and Owen pulled back the anger. He rose to speak to her, then they came to where Keeley was seated. The officer introduced herself as Deputy Beth Guerrero. Keeley went over what had happened and gave all the details of her assailant she could remember, then answered a boatload ofquestions. Owen brought the deputy up to speed with what had happened Sunday night.
By the time Beth left, Keeley felt like all the energy had been sapped from her body. Her shoulder throbbed, her head throbbed even more, and all she wanted to do was go home to sleep. Waiting to be called back, she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, letting her mind drift.
She must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing she knew Owen was speaking in her ear. “C’mon, princess, they’re calling you.”
She blinked her eyes open and found his face inches from hers. An arm around her shoulders held her close to his side and her head rested on his shoulder. How had that happened?
Her name was called again and Owen pulled her to her feet.
