Carrying Hope (6 page)

Waking up in a hospital with no memory of how I got there is one of the scariest things I’ve ever experienced. Not only is it an unfamiliar place, which is disorienting enough in and of itself, but it’s a
hospital
. Without knowing why I was there, I was left to freak out over all of the terrible possibilities. My head screamed in protest when I tried to move it and the entire side of my face felt tender and puffy.

I was finally able to gingerly move my head enough to take a look around the room. I was all alone, in a hospital gown, and I had no idea where my things were.

The door to my room opened and a strange man walked in. He was impeccably dressed, but his clothes were completely ruined. His face was bruised and battered and his spine was straight and stiff as if he were in pain. He sipped from a cup of coffee and was half-way to my bedside before he realized I was alert.

“Oh good! You’re awake,” his lips curled upwards. I wished I knew who he was. Or better yet, what I was doing in the hospital.

“Do you need anything?”

I started to shake my head and winced as soon as I did, clutching my forehead in pain.

He sucked in a breath, empathizing with my pain.

I tried to open my mouth to speak, but it was so dry that it felt cemented shut.

“Water,” I finally managed to croak.

Without a word, he set his coffee down and hurried off to fetch me a drink.

I stared at the ceiling, trying to remember the events that brought me here. The whole day seemed like a blur.

The stranger came back with a glass of water and a bendy straw. I gulped the glass down gratefully. The cool water seemed to bring me back to life. My brain finally started working and my memories began to trickle in.

“So, Marcia, before the police arrive…”

“Marcie,” I corrected.

“What?”

“My name is Marcie. No one calls me Marcia.”

He nodded.

“That certainly suits you better.”

“Wait, did you say police?” I remembered my fight with Kevin and wondered if I’d done something stupid. I didn’t think he would call the police on me, but even if he did, that didn’t explain why I was in the hospital.

“Yes, the police want to talk to you. But what I was getting at was…”

“Wait, how do you know my name? Who are you?”

He looked like I was annoying him. Maybe he wasn’t used to being interrupted. I could apologize for my manners later, right now I wanted answers.

“Bryce Dorian, a pleasure to meet you Marcie.”

He inclined his head toward me and I answered with a small nod of my own.

“Okay, that still doesn’t explain how you know my name.”

He looked down at his feet. He wore the unmistakable expression of someone that had been caught doing something they knew they shouldn’t.

“Well, while you were unconscious, I looked at your ID so that I could tell the first responders that I am your fiancé. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. The police believe that…”

“You did what? Did you rob me?” I panicked, knowing I only had thirty dollars left and I didn’t know how long that had to last me.

“What? No, of course not. Why would I rob the woman that saved my life?”

His expression was so sincere and so full of gratitude that I knew he was telling the truth.

“So why did you lie?”

His olive skin turned red.

“Well, I wanted to be with you and I didn’t think they would let me if I was honest.”

Even though I thought it was an invasion of my privacy, I couldn’t really argue with his reasoning. I probably would have done the same thing if I were in his shoes.

“Did you say I was unconscious?”

“Don’t you remember?”

I hesitated. Foggy memories were slowly returning to me. The hopeful twinkle in his eyes made me want to remember.

“Um… Sort of?”

“You were incredible.” My heart fluttered in my chest and I suddenly felt breathless. I could listen to the rich husky sound of his voice any day of the week.

A sharp rap on the door startled me out of my reverie.

“Miss Gallagher?” A short female officer announced her presence.

“Marcie, please.”

“I’m here to talk to you about that man that attacked you and your fiancé.”

Bryce laid a protective hand over my arm, running interference between the cop and me.

“Can’t this wait? She’s only just woken up and she isn’t feeling well.” I was amazed at how easily he commanded the room. He never had to raise his voice; he just had a certain quality that made those around him inherently show him respect.

I placed my hand over his gingerly, sitting up further.

“No, it’s okay, I can talk to her,” I argued, wanting to get the interview over with as quickly as possible.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, though. I don’t remember much,” I added as she approached with her notepad.

“That’s okay; just tell me whatever you do remember. Every little bit helps.”

I couldn’t tell her about hearing the scuffle from far off or my foolhardy investigation. I couldn’t tell her how the fight started, because I wasn’t there.

“Um… well, the man attacked… us. He hit Bryce and was kicking him. I had mace on me so I went after him and… that’s all I remember.”

“So the man fled after you sprayed him?”

“Um, yes, I suppose so.” I hated that I couldn’t remember things more clearly. I kept replaying the scene in my head, but like damaged film it kept fading out of focus.

“Did you get a good look at him?”

I closed my eyes, trying to push back the massive headache that pressed against my skull. The harder I tried to remember, the more it hurt.

“I think that’s enough, she’s obviously not recovered enough for this interview, yet,” Bryce stepped in on my behalf.

“Mr. Dorian, I just have a couple more questions that I’d like to ask your fiancée. In private. Do you mind stepping outside for a moment?”

The look on his face said that he did mind very much. He either didn’t think he could argue with the cop or didn’t think he
should
. The scowl on his face was enough to tell the officer that he was not happy with her handling of the situation. Regardless, he left the room without protest.

“Miss Gallagher,” the policewoman addressed me in a hushed voice, her eyes soft and concerned.

“Please be honest with me. Has Mr. Dorian ever hurt you?”

My incredulity must have been evident on my face because she backed off immediately.

“I’m sorry; it’s something we have to address. I just noticed how he tried to keep you from talking to me and it raised a red flag. Hazard of the job,” she finished apologetically.

“No, I think he’s just trying to protect me,” I replied, a hint of doubt creeping in to my thoughts. What did I really know about this man? He was in a bad neighborhood, doing who knows what, he lied to the police about our relationship, and went through my belongings. If nothing else, I knew that he didn’t have a good sense of personal boundaries. I started to wonder what he was trying to hide exactly. I trusted this cop’s intuition, but my own gut was telling me that he was an okay guy.

“Well, what you did was very brave, but it was also very dangerous.”

I blushed, not knowing how to handle the compliment or the admonishment.

“Um… thank you?” I tried.

She nodded.

“If you remember anything else…”

“I’ll call you,” I finished, knowing I had no intention of ever contacting the officer.

“Would you like me to tell Mr. Dorian that he can come back in?”

My stomach was suddenly full of butterflies at the thought.

“Yes, please,” I tried to sound as casual as I could.

In another moment, the police officer was gone and Bryce was back at my bedside, full of protective concern.

“Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

I shook my head, wincing again at the sharp pain that lanced through my injured brain.

“I’m fine. Or… I feel fine. Why exactly am I here?”

“You hit your head pretty hard, they just want to make sure everything is okay,” he said gently. He extended his hand, but withdrew it quickly as if he’d touched a hot stove.

His phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket, scowled at the screen and dismissed the call. I sent him a questioning look, but he simply shook his head.

“Nothing important. I just wanted to…” his phone began to ring again, interrupting him.

With a furious look, he answered the phone and growled “not now” and hung up again. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of an entirely different man. A man that was the undisputed leader in his world. A man with a hot temper and very little patience for those that dared to get in his way.

As quickly as the window opened to let me see that man, it slammed shut and Bryce was back to his warm and concerned self. I didn’t know which Bryce was the real Bryce, or whether I should be frightened of the man he didn’t want to show me.

“I’m sorry about that. As I was saying…”

“If you have an important call to take, it’s okay. You don’t have to sit here with me. I’m fine,” I lied. I didn’t want to be left alone in a hospital. Bryce may be a stranger, but he seemed to care about me, so that had to count for something.

“No call is as important as sitting here with you, Marcie. You saved my life and I am forever indebted to you. If there’s anything I can do for you, just say the word.”

My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“I did what anyone would do,” I muttered, trying to deflect his gratitude.

“No. What you did was extraordinary. Most people wouldn’t care about a stranger getting mugged. Hell, there are probably plenty of people that would say I must have done something to deserve it.”

My chest swelled with pride. I guess I had been pretty heroic. Not that I really gave any of my actions a second thought; it was all just instinct.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” I replied, trying to push back the memories of Bryce curled up in agony on the ground.

One corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a half-smile.

“Yes, I’m very lucky.”

Despite his busted nose, I could tell that he was a devilishly handsome man. His dark hair and tanned complexion made his looks just exotic enough to stand out in a crowd. He had a strong jawline, lightly dusted with the scratchy beginnings of a beard. Though his clothes were covered in blood, I could tell that they were expensively made and tailored to fit his body perfectly. He moved with a stiffness that betrayed his relaxed expression. I could tell that he was in pain with every movement, but that didn’t make him any less graceful.

Another knock on the door startled me and I realized that I’d been staring at him for at least a minute, trying to memorize his features.

A doctor came in to the room, looking exhausted and over-worked. He gave me a once-over before turning his attention back to the clipboard in his hand.

“Well, Miss Marcia,”

“Marcie,” I corrected for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Marcie,” he nodded as if making a mental note, “you took a nasty bump to the head, but all of our tests show that Mommy and baby are doing just fine. Just try not to get involved in any more back-alley fights for the next eight months or so, okay?” He gave my leg a gentle pat before replacing my chart on the end of the bed and leaving the room.

My head was spinning as I turned to Bryce.

“Did he just say
baby
?”

“Did he just say
baby?”
Her question echoed through my head, trying to find a place where those words made sense to me. Mommy and baby… she was pregnant. She already had a man in her life. A family. There was no place for me.

The stunned look on her face mirrored what I felt internally. I felt like I was going to be sick. In my delusional mind, I already planned my courtship of Marcie. I envisioned taking her anywhere in the world, showering her with gifts and affection, buying a house with her, and starting a family. The whole scenario was ridiculous and juvenile, but I couldn’t stop myself from fantasizing about making a life with this incredible woman.