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Authors: Angela Graham

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

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BOOK: Irreplaceable
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Chapter Three

Control

 

A man of his word, Logan entered
the room just past six that evening carrying a plate of food, but not from the
cafeteria. As he drew closer, a relaxed look settling over his face, I noticed
the plate held my favorite childhood meal: two chili dogs, with waffle fries
and orange slices on the side.

My mother had to have been to blame for his knowledge of
it, and I wondered what other little tidbits of information she’d shared.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he commented, setting the plate on
the tray beside me then wheeling it closer to rest in front of me, hovering
over my lap.

“Considering the nurses never delivered my dinner, which
I’m sure you had something to do with, yes, I am.”

The chili dogs smelled delicious. My mouth salivated, and
I couldn’t help but snatch a fry. Oh, yeah—he was good.

I swallowed and looked up at him questioningly. “So what
else did my mother tell you about her only daughter? The name of my childhood
crush? Or perhaps the date of my first period?”

Stuffing my mouth full of fries, I hoped to disgust him
as much as he’d disgusted me that fateful night. I refused to let him know how
wonderful the meal was. Why couldn’t he just drop off the food and leave, letting
a girl eat in peace?

“No, but I can always give her another call.” He raised
his brows and pulled out his phone, earning him a deserved scowl as I sunk my
teeth into the juicy hotdog.

God, was it good.
Damn it.

“Did you bring anything for yourself, or are you planning
on watching me eat all this alone? ‘Cause I’m not sharing.”

His face lit up, amused at my hard tone. “I could watch
you eat every day, sweetheart,” he said with a smile, sitting in the chair
beside my bed.

There it was: a name that once completed me, but now
caused me to spit the rest of my hotdog into the cloth napkin. My appetite was
gone. I wasn’t his, and I never would be.

“Something wrong with it?” He watched with a mystified
stare as I stuffed the napkin under the rim of the plate.

“No, but something is very wrong with you sitting here as
though it’s the most normal thing for you to do after I offered myself up on a
silver platter and you laughed in my face.”

His carefree manner was replaced with a distraught frown.
“Cassandra, I never laughed—”

“Don’t try to make me feel better, Logan. I made a fool
of myself, and you know it! The truth is out there, and you can’t take that
back.” I pushed the tray forward, needing more space to think, to breathe,
before angling my head to the side, scowling. “You wanted to fuck me! If
Natasha hadn’t shown up that night, you would have, proving I was just like
every other girl.”

“Please, you have to—”

“No! I don’t have to do anything. I don’t owe you a damn
thing, so you need to leave. Get the hell out of my room, and out of my life!
Go enjoy another game of poker with Caleb!”

“I’m not going. And as far as that game of poker I played
the other night, I don’t know who told you about it or what they said, but I
was there trying clear my head so I could think straight. I was miserable the
entire night thinking about you, here, stuck in a damn bed!”

“I don’t care!”

“Obviously you do, or you wouldn’t bring it up. You think
I’d rather play poker, a game I lost ten grand at that night because my head
was focused on you, instead of being here?”

I didn’t say a word.

“I’m staying. That’s final!”

Who the hell did he think he was? With a sigh, I decided
the best way to get him out of my life was to stop engaging him.

“Fine, then stay, but don’t expect me to speak to you or
even acknowledge you, for that matter.”

I turned away and closed my eyes. I wasn’t going to let
him stroll back into my life. I wasn’t going to be that girl ever again.

And so it began. Logan remained sitting beside me, quiet
as ever, until visiting hours ended. Then he gave a soft but rueful goodbye
before leaving me alone to wallow.

The next morning, Logan arrived
as though I was expecting him. I didn’t believe he was really there to stay until
he sat solemnly on the chair beside me for the next few hours without a word. He
returned again later that evening with dinner.

“Still holding onto the silent treatment, huh?” he asked,
setting the plate of food in front of me.

I didn’t say a word. Silence was better than talking,
because talking would begin a conversation that would lead nowhere good. The
man was gorgeous and here with me, trying, but it didn’t matter. My anger—not
just at him, but at myself for being so weak—was deeper than he could imagine.

Logan slid off his coat, dropped it onto a small chair
across the room, and walked back over. I wondered if he’d went to the paper to
work after he’d left that morning, but doubted it, due to the dark blue jeans
and long-sleeved grey Henley he wore. It hugged his arms and chest and looked a
size too small, which was exactly what any hot-blooded woman hoped for.

The man looked good.
Too
good.

With a sigh, my eyes slammed shut and I lowered my head,
shaking it.
Not good. Not beautiful, not sweet, and definitely not kind.
He was none of those things I’d once thought—at least, not to me he wasn’t. I’d
tried, put myself out there, ready to jump in, but he’d made things clear with
the condom he’d thrown in my face. I saw exactly where I stood with him; looks
had no influence anymore. Gorgeous or not, the man would eventually destroy me—I
felt it deep down in my gut.

I stabbed a piece of meat and shoved it into my mouth as
Logan sat in his usual spot in the chair beside my bed. I ate in silence, and
was finishing off my bowl of fruit when the door cracked open and the male
nurse on shift smiled.

“Sorry it’s taking so long. It’s been crazy around here
with a few of the other nurses out with the flu. When you’re done eating, buzz
the desk and we’ll get you showered.”

I nodded, smiling as I chewed with a closed mouth. I watched
his head disappear and the door close.

Just as I pierced another piece of melon, Logan was out
of his seat, staring at the door.
What the hell was he doing now?

“That’s your nurse?” he asked, turning back and staring
at me with a scowl burrowing between his brows.

“Yeah,” I drawled, shoving the melon into my mouth,
irritated at his critical tone. “Got a problem with male nurses?” I scoffed.

Stalking toward the bed, he towered over me with a hard
expression. “No, what I have a problem with is that guy thinking he’s going to
help you shower.”

I rolled my eyes.
Was he serious right now?

“Why? I don’t have a problem with it,” I replied, and
there was a flash of not just anger in his darkening eyes, but something else,
something deeper—hurt—and I couldn’t stop myself from driving the stake in
further. “Actually, he’s kind of hot.” I shrugged my shoulders, pushed the tray
holding my plate away, and reached for the buzzer.

Logan’s hand covered mine in the same instant and ripped
the buzzer away.

“You’re a horrible liar, Cassandra.” His hand held mine
and my heart raced, legs trembling.

Why did I still feel it—still react to him? I hated it,
and my anger fueled the strength to tug my hand free. Logan stood unaffected.

“Using something as petty as jealousy to hurt me won’t
change a thing,” Logan said. “If that’s what you need to do, then I welcome it;
we both know I deserve your worst.” He walked around the bed and unplugged my
IV stand. “But I won’t allow another man to help you bathe.”

“What are you doing?” I sat up further, clutching the
blanket to my chest.

“Getting you your shower before that pervert comes back
and I get myself arrested.”

“What!?”

He was not serious. First, it was the bathroom so I could
pee, now a shower?
Hell no. Not happening.
“He’s a nurse, not a perv,
you asshole! If anyone’s a pervert, it’s you!”

I could’ve sworn I caught a glimpse of an upturn at the
corner of his lips, but it smoothed as quickly as it’d peeked out.

“Possibly. However, we’re not talking about me right now,
Cassandra. This isn’t up for debate—if anyone’s going to help you, it’s going
to be me.”

My brows drew together. Did he just admit he was a
pervert? That was a bit of information to store away and dissect at a later
time, but not right now—not with Logan walking over to the bathroom. A second
after he went in, I could hear the spray of the shower.

I watched with a tense posture and narrowed eyes as he
came back out. He rolled his sleeves up, then removed his watch, placing it on
top of his coat.

When he turned to face me, it took everything inside me
not to melt. I needed to work on that. I squared my shoulders and drew from the
image of him in that alley on New Year’s to restore my standing. Worked like an
angry charm.

“Logan, you’re not helping me shower!”

“We’ll see. Now, do you need me to carry you in?”

Was I being punished? I mean, come on! The last thing I
needed was for him to see how battered and bruised I was.

“Cassandra, we both know how much I enjoy carrying you.”

At his first step toward me, I panicked, my stomach
turning violently as I grabbed the buzzer and pressed the button hard again and
again. There was no reply from the nurse, but to my relief, he was in the door
a second later.

“You all right? Ready to get cleaned up?” As the nurse—Jeffery,
his badge said—approached my bed, his eyes darted between Logan and me, then to
the bathroom that was beginning to fog up. I honestly wasn’t too keen on a male
nurse helping me shower, but I was able enough to bathe myself. I just needed a
little help getting in and out.

“Yes, I’m ready. This guy was just leaving,” I said, nodding
at Logan.

“No, I wasn’t,” Logan snapped, stalking back to my bed
and standing between it and Jeffery. “I can help her in the shower myself. You
can go.”

With a glance at both of us again, Jeffery smiled. “I
understand. Just make sure she sits on the chair in there and holds the shower
sprayer to wash. I’ll come in when you’re ready to apply a fresh bandage. We
don’t want those stitches to get infected.” My jaw dropped as I watched Jeffery
smile once more over at me, then turn to leave.

“Wait! No—Logan, you need to go. If I miss out on a
shower because of you, there will be hell to pay!”

“I’m sorry,” Jeffery’s eyelids lowered in confusion. “I
just assumed you two were…”

“Nothing but unfriendly neighbors? Yeah, that’s us, and
he was just leaving.”

“Like hell I was,” Logan said, still glaring at the man who
stood at least six inches shorter than him.

“Look, I wasn’t planning on bathing her myself, sir. I
just need to be here if she needs any assistance. But if it would make you more
comfortable, I can send in a female nurse. It will be another hour or so, but
it won’t be a problem.”

“That’s not necessary,” I blurted out, aching to get my
first real shower. Sponge baths were not doing the trick the past couple days.

“Yes, it is.” Logan craned his neck, and with a serious
and almost intimidating stare, he added, “Either me or a female nurse is
getting you clean tonight—your choice—but I won’t be leaving till it’s done.”

“Screw you, Logan. I don’t take orders!” I spit, pushing
myself up. “Can you help me?” I said, tilting my head to look past Logan’s
powerful frame to Jeffery.

“Um…yeah, of course.”

Great, now Logan had the poor guy scared. It didn’t
matter—I would prove he couldn’t tell me what to do. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I
winced at the thought.

“You take another step toward her and it will be your
last.” Logan’s threat was menacingly deep.

“Sir, Cassandra’s my patient. If you stand in the way of
her care, I will be forced to call security.”

Go Jeffery!
I was liking that guy more and more.
Too bad he looked like one of Santa’s elves with his tiny frame, short stature,
and pointed ears.

“Logan, I’m showering. End of discussion.”

He turned to face me fully, jaw clenched tight, hands
balled at his sides so tightly the knuckles whitened. Slowly, he appraised my
set, assertive stance. I wasn’t backing down.

“Yes, it is,” he replied, eerily calm.

Something in the way he spoke the words shot an icy
shiver up my spine. Then, to my complete shock, Logan stepped out of the way
and allowed Jeffery to wrap my robe around my back and help me to the bathroom.
I was thankful it covered the laceration on my thigh and most of my bruises.

Once inside, Jeffery watched as I sat on the toilet lid, then
kneeled down to place a waterproof bandage over my stitches for extra
protection.

“If you need anything, I’ll be right outside the door.
After you get undressed, be careful getting in the shower, and remember: sit on
the shower seat. Don’t try to stand in there. You might fall.” I nodded, and he
closed the door.

BOOK: Irreplaceable
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ads

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