a Touch of TNT (An Everly Gray Adventure) (13 page)

I glared at him. “I hate when you know what I’m going to do before I have a chance to work out the details.” Wow. I’d managed a whole sentence. Amazing how healing a burst of anger can be.

He pursed those full lips and shot me a look. “I’m learning.”

Annie ducked into the cubicle and gave me the once-over. “You’re looking better, but that could be because you’re not flat on the ground surrounded by an unflattering display of flashing lights.”

“Red isn’t my best color. Clashes with my hair.”

Pierce rested his hand on Annie’s shoulder. “I’m putting her around the corner in an empty procedure room. You planning to stay?”

“Looks like my date is going to be spending the evening at Summer Woods Manor, so yeah, I’m free.”

“Excuse me. I’m right here.” I was getting seriously pissed off. A bump on the head and a few scratches. “Why am I still here guys? Home would be good. I’m fine.”

Pierce jerked the curtain aside, held out his hand. “George, a mirror.”

It wasn’t more than a minute before Pierce flipped it in front of my face.

Seriously bad.

Wild hair, scrapes oozing ugly liquid, and the beginnings of purple bruises were everywhere. And then there was the yellow hospital gown. So the wrong color to put next to a nausea-green face. What were they thinking to put that shade of yellow on sick people? I handed the mirror back to George, and then met Pierce’s glare. “Okay. One night, and one night only.”

He nodded, then motioned to George and they wheeled my bed around the corner and down the hall to my new location. Annie followed with the pink water pitcher. There’s nothing quite like a best friend who knows
exactly
what to do. She set the pitcher within reach, kicked her shoes off, and settled in what looked like some kind of exam chair. I started to ask, changed my mind. Better not to know about its purpose.

Pierce sent George back to work, then zeroed in on me. “What happened?”

Avoidance. Always a good tactic. My lips found the straw, and I sipped some water from the partly crumpled paper cup I held in a death grip.

Pierce tapped my arm, slipped the cup from my grasp. “Talk. Now.”

“I was looking at a property Justin North suggested to Mitch and me for potential design ideas. All the construction in the subdivision was in the early stages, so there weren’t any addresses, nothing for me to actually look at.”

Pierce didn’t so much as blink, but his eyes went a little unfocused. Unnerving.

I swallowed, made an attempt to clear my throat. “I couldn’t figure it out, so I got out of my car and started wandering around—to see if I’d made a wrong turn or something. When I was about a block away, maybe less, the house and my car blew up. The blast must have knocked me to the ground. It definitely knocked the wind out of me. And I think I hit my head pretty hard.”

“You could say that.” He turned to Annie. “Clarify.”

Annie filled in the details about the meeting with North, and then picked up where I’d left off. “Sean and I had just finished our salads when he got paged to the explosion. He’s in the arson program, and since this was an unexplained incident, had to check it out. Part of his training. When we pulled into Summer Woods Manor, I got a bad feeling. El mentioned the name when we’d talked earlier—”

Pierce jammed his hands in his front pockets. “Bad combination. Everly and an explosion in the same place.”

“Exactly. I was looking around for her, heard a noise, and spotted her lying on the ground about fifteen feet from me.” A shudder twitched her shoulders.

“I was fine. Really. It had been a while since the explosion, and I was working up the energy to go for help. I wasn’t sure anyone had reported it, and I really wanted a drink of water, queasy stomach be damned. Speaking of which, can I have my cup back? And get another full pitcher?”

Annie uncurled from the peculiar chair, snagged the pink pitcher and filled it, and then tapped Pierce on the shoulder. “How do you want to work this?”

I flopped my hand on the bed, trying to get their attention. “Work what?”

They ignored me. Pierce checked his watch. “If you can cover the next hour while I finish my shift, I’ll spend the night with her. I’d like her out of here by seven tomorrow morning. Rather not explain her to anyone.”

“That works. I’ll pick her up, spend the day with her.”

The protective act was beyond annoying. “Hello. Awake here. Does anyone care what I think?”

“Not really,” they said in unison.

Pierce laid his finger on my cheek, testing the bruise. “I want to watch you tonight. By tomorrow you’ll be fine on your own as long as you don’t leave the house. And I mean that. Nothing but rest tomorrow.”

Annie nodded. “I’ll put her under house arrest.”

A low buzz sounded. Pierce glanced between us, shook his head, then checked his phone. “Mayhem calls. Later, ladies.”

The effects of the evening, heck, of the whole day were taking a toll, and try as I might, I couldn’t keep my eyelids from drifting closed. The background noise of the emergency department soothed my nerves in a strange, inexplicable way that was…safe.

The rattle of plastic on metal,
the squeak of protesting wheels, and the scent of bacon and coffee filled the air. I opened my eyes. The bright glow of morning sun spiked through the slats in the Venetian blinds. Headache.

I rolled away from the sunlight and checked out the room. Alone. My body ached in places that I’d long since forgotten, and the smell of breakfast nudged the desire for food almost to the top of my to-do list. If only my stomach would settle down.

Shower first. I wanted to get rid of the dirt and stink from the explosion more than my next breath. Well, almost more than my next breath. When you’ve come within a few feet of turning into pink mist, breathing takes on a whole new meaning.

The IV had disappeared from my arm and there was a pile of clean clothes sitting on the cabinet next to the bathroom. Had to be Annie.

Just as I slid my feet from under the covers she strolled in, all bright and cheery. “Morning. How’s your head feel?”

“Mild headache. Everything aches, and I’d kill to be standing in that shower.” I jerked my head toward the possibility of running water and was rewarded with a sharp twinge of pain.

Annie offered her arm to help me out of bed. I grabbed on, started to pull myself up, and dropped back down.

There were no images.

“I’m not getting any images.”

“What do you mean, no images?”

“I mean I’m not picking up anything about where you’ve been, what you’ve done, no images about you at all.”

“Do you always see things when you touch me? I thought you’d learned to ignore what you pick up from me? That you blocked it or something?”

“Not exactly. I’ve learned how to fade the images associated with you, so they’re like background static rather than an intrusion into my conscious awareness.”

Panic crawled under my skin. This couldn’t be happening. I kept lifting my fingers and setting them back down on Annie’s arm. Then I realized my other hand was resting on the bed.

No images there either.

When I’m in strange places, I sleep with my fingers curled in. I’d been careful not to touch the bed. Even with a wobbly mind and in a deep sleep, my fingers would have stayed lightly curled. But the shock of not picking up any images from Annie distracted me, and…

A hospital bed.

Full of emotion.

No images. Nothing, nada, zilch, zero.

“Everly?” Pierce’s voice cut through my panic.

My gaze snapped up to meet his. “Nothing. No images.”

He blinked. “Are there always images? No exceptions?”

“Yes. In a place like this. With all the emotion. There would always be images.”

I grabbed his hand. Nothing.

“It’s gone. My hinky touch thing is gone.”

TEN

I grabbed Annie’s hand again,
and she settled on the edge of the bed next to me.

“Nothing,” I whispered, my skin tightening with awareness as fear lodged deep in my chest.

Pierce rocked back on his heels, staring at me. “Your body is still in shock. This may be normal.”

“Normal?” I screeched, a true wince-worthy sound. “There is nothing normal about my sense of touch.”

“Okay. I’ll give you that one.” Was that a smile making his lips twitch?

Another wave of fear washed through me. “What if it doesn’t come back? It’s like being blind and deaf. And empty. What if I can’t see things through my fingers ever again?”

I stopped breathing, started to get out of bed. I needed to pace. Strong hands pushed me down. Pierce. “Take a minute. You haven’t been up since the explosion.”

Adrenaline fueled panic shot through me.

I pushed. He danced back. Oh, yeah, that worked just fine. Power pulsed through my veins and I jumped to my feet, knees wobbling. “Oh, damn.” The room spun, balance eluded me, and I flopped down, landing on the bed with an inelegant splat. Pain exploded in my head. “Bloody hell but that hurt.”

Annie glared, opened her mouth, but Pierce flipped his index finger at her and not a word escaped.

I found a focus point on the far wall, planted my hands on either side of my hips, and slowly levered to my feet. The room spun, but not fast enough to knock me on my ass. Success! Sort of. Still, no biggie as long as I didn’t move too fast.

Pierce and Annie watched me, their eyebrows hiked up in identical arches. If I weren’t in the middle of such a disaster, I’d take time to smirk. It’s not every day I get two top government agents to back off. “I’m not going postal. Just need to move around. I think better when I pace.”

I took a step. Stayed steady. A couple more brought me halfway to the bathroom. Nothing was spinning. Yay, me. Shower first, pace second, since the hospital gown flapping in the breeze in front of Pierce was so not a good plan.

Annie touched my shoulder. “I’m walking with you. Think of it as backup. The shower will clear your mind, then
we’ll
figure out what’s going on.”

It took a minute before her words registered. Shock? Had to be. Apparently my brain had gone numb, but her words finally seeped through, and I recognized the beauty in words like “backup” and “we’ll.” Words that meant I wasn’t alone. Relief skittered through my mind and I dragged in a shaky breath. Annie would help. Not that anyone could fix my problem, but knowing she’d be there made all the difference.

When I turned to go in the bathroom, Pierce stepped in front of me. “How about you sit in the shower. Don’t want to be peeling you off the floor.”

I dropped my forehead against his chest. “I don’t know what to do. Help me. Please, Pierce. Think of something emotional, something I should be able to pick up.”

His body tensed. Relaxed. “Okay. Got it.”

I gingerly rested my fingertips against his chest. No images, but there were hazy background fragments that could solidify into a real picture…maybe. Pierce was right, one step at a time. Didn’t seem like I had much choice.

“You’re not getting anything?” he asked.

His clue? The tears running down my face. “G-Gray. Background shades of g-gray. That’s all. What was the image you focused on?”

“You. Crumpled, when they wheeled you into the ER.”

“Oh.”

“Ready for the shower?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to come in with you? Wash your back?” Those deep blue eyes flashed with humor.

Heat ripped through my body. Shower? With Pierce? Holy shit. What was he thinking?

“
I
will sit with Everly.” Annie—protecting my innocence.

Guess the explosion didn’t damage my libido, but if I had to choose, I’d rather have my sense of touch back. On the other hand…”Thank God something is in working order.”

“What?” Pierce asked, handing me off to Annie.

“Nothing. Not a thing. I promise to sit and take it slow.”

“El?” Annie called from outside the curtain. “You need any help?”

“Clothes would be good. And a towel.”

A towel flicked over the top of the shower door. “There are sweats next to the sink. I’m stepping outside, so yell if you need anything else.”

Rivulets of bloody water dripped on the floor. The scrapes on my leg weren’t that bad, but the water must have rinsed off some clots and started minor bleeding.

I cracked the bathroom door and peeked out. “Are there some gauze pads out there? I need to blot these scrapes before I put my clothes on.”

Drawers opened and closed, then a handful of gauze pads poked through the crack in the door.

“Where’s Pierce?” I asked.

“I sent him to sign your discharge papers. You need some antiseptic for those scrapes?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

A tube of antibiotic ointment appeared around the door along with a roll of tape. “Thought you might want to tape some of the gauze over the scrapes, keep your sweats from getting greasy.”