Thrasher (2 page)

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Authors: K.S. Smith

BOOK: Thrasher
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“Is there a reason we are still here?” I asked, sliding my legs off the bed and looking for my clothes.

Megan grabbed my legs and plopped them back onto the bed. “Yes, you hit your head pretty hard. They had to give you twelve stitches and think your fall may have given you a mild concussion. Now lie down. You aren’t going anywhere until the doctor gives you the okay.”

I glared at her before crisscrossing my legs and folding my arms over my chest. “I need a mirror.” I pouted, hoping the stitches weren't too bad.

Megan shuffled through the drawers in the room but came up empty-handed. “I’ll go see if they have one at the nurses’ station.” She hurried out of the room, and Duke stepped back up to my bedside, handing me his iPhone.

I pushed his hand out of my face. “Thanks, but I don’t need to call anyone. I need to see how bad these stitches are.” He took in a heavy breath and held the phone closer to my face, making sure I was fully aware that he’d turned his camera on so I could look at myself.

“Oh…” I flushed. “…sorry, I didn’t even think about that.” Reaching for his phone, I smiled up at him, noticing his blazing green eyes. Quickly averting my stare, I lifted the phone and studied the stitches that were sewn into my hairline, right above my temple.
Thank goodness these won’t be noticeable once I’m fully healed
, I thought to myself.

Megan was back in the room quickly with a pocket-sized mirror. “Here, I found one.”

Duke tucked himself back into the corner, which I noticed he’d done earlier, the first time Megan had come into the room.

“Thanks.” I took the mirror and set it down in my lap, continuing to look at myself through the iPhone camera instead. I studied myself briefly when the phone began ringing in my hand, the noise startling me.

Duke stepped back up to my bed, swiped the phone from my hand, and walked out into the hallway.

Megan got comfortable on the edge of the bed. “What is it with this guy? He won’t leave your side. Do you know him? I swear, if you do, I’m kicking your ass for not bringing him around more often, because he is hot as sin, and so are his friends.”

I laughed at her comment then thought about her question, as I felt my eyebrows furrow together. “I have no idea who in the hell he is. I’ve never met him before. At least I don’t think I have.”

His voice echoed from the hallway, and we both went silent, trying to eavesdrop on his conversation. He must have been on to us, because our silence was followed by his, and a few seconds later, he reappeared in the room, backing himself straight into the corner.

I glanced at Megan, giving her that best-friend stare, and she just grinned, all the while shrugging her shoulders. He was hot, so she was obviously not going to get rid of him.

“So, Duke, thanks for sticking around, but I’m fine. Megan isn’t going to leave my side. I think we should be able to handle it from here. You can go on home, or back to your buddies, or wherever it is you came from.”

I stared at him as he leaned his head back against the wall. His eyes locked on mine, and I could feel the intensity that was radiating through them.

“Not going anywhere. Blame it on the job, or whatever you’d like, but once I start something, I have to see it through until the end.”

I looked back at Megan, and she had a wicked grin on her face. I knew where her head had gone with that one, and I kicked her under the covers. Her body flinched as she erupted with laughter.

She turned to face Duke after calming herself down and started in on him. “So, G.I. Joe, if you aren’t going to leave, then at least answer a few questions for us.”

His eyebrow rose, and he shot a quick glance over to me then back to Megan.

“Who are you, and what do you do?” she quizzed.

His response was gruff. “I’ve already introduced myself, and as for what I do, I do whatever I want.”

Her smile grew wider. “Well, maybe instead of G.I. Joe, I shall call you The Grouch.”

“Megan!” I snapped.

Her head went flying back with laughter. “Okay, okay, I won’t call you The Grouch. I’ll just think it. Anyway, why didn’t you take off with the rest of your friends when they all left?”

He ran this hand through his hair again, and I caught a glimpse of his sculpted abdomen. My lips parted slightly as I admired his muscles.

“She needed help, so I helped. Like I said, I see things through.”

I could see the agitation in his body as he tensed with each question.

“Are you single?”

Oh my gosh, she didn’t just ask that, did she?
“Megan, I’m starving, would you run down to the cafeteria and see if they have any fruit or a bagel?”

She scooted off the edge of the bed and sauntered toward the door, pointing at Duke. “Don’t think I’m done with you, buddy.” And on that note, she slipped down the hall.

“Sorry about that,” I whispered. “She gets on a roll, and there’s no stopping her.” I watched his frame relax when he stepped out of the corner, back up to the edge of my bed. “So, you aren’t much of a talker?” I questioned, looking down at my fidgeting fingers.

He sat down in the chair next to me and took in a deep breath. “I’m just selective. I don’t like people in my business, especially people I don’t know.” His eyes glanced at the door, and I knew he was referring to Megan.

“Well, what about me?” I asked, grinning from ear to ear.

Duke rested his elbows on his knees and wiped his hands over his face. “I’m still thinking about that one.”

My eyebrows furrowed together, and I looked angrily at him, waiting to see if he was messing with me, but he wasn’t. “That’s bullshit. I have no idea who you are, other than your name, and you think you have the right to tell me you aren’t leaving because you always see things through? I don’t give a damn who you think you are. If you don’t start answering some questions, I’ll have security throw you out on your ass.”

He scoffed, “I don’t think you want hospital security ending up like the other asshole who fucked with you tonight, do you?”

“Oh please, you aren’t that reckless,” I blurted out, calling his bluff.

He stood out of the chair and leaned closer to my face, gripping his hands around the bedrail. His breath caressed my lips. “Try me.”

Just then, the door flung open, and Megan was standing there with a bowl of fruit, grinning from ear to ear. “Well, well, I see you’ve made some progress since I’ve been gone.”

Duke released his hands from the bedrail and retreated to his corner, his arms flexing over his chest for the umpteenth time that night.

My hands reached out for the bowl of fruit. I began to pluck out all of the melons, only to be left with a few strawberries and grapes. Popping a grape into my mouth, I scanned the room for a clock. It was three in the morning, and I was tired. “Look, I’m thankful to both of you for wanting to stay here with me, but I’m tired, and if they are going to force me to spend the night, then I want to do it in peace and quiet. Megan, why don’t you head home, and I’ll call you in the morning when they release me. And as for you, well, I’m not sure where you have to go, but you aren’t staying here.”

Neither one of them moved an inch. “Guys, come on, I’m tired.”

Megan jerked her hands to her hips and tapped her foot against the floor. “I’m not going anywhere unless G.I. Joe leaves too.”

We both stared at him, and he just shook his head side to side as he mouthed the word
nope
.

I slowly reached for the call button and pressed the picture of the blue nurse, hoping neither of them saw me do it.

A few minutes later, a short heavyset nurse with a southern twang came walking in. “What can I do ya for, sweetie?”

Megan laughed, instantly knowing my plan, and Duke glared at me from the corner of the room.

“I’m really tired and would like my guests to leave, but they seem to be having a pissing contest right here in my room. She won’t leave until he does, and he’s not leaving. Any help would be great.”

A loud laugh escaped her mouth. “Oh, honey, I've been dying to get my hands on you all night.” She walked over to Duke and slung her arm around his hip.

His body visibly tensed under her touch.

“I ain’t tellin’ ya you have to leave, but ya can’t stay here. This little thing needs her rest, and y’all aren’t helping.”

She dragged them both out of the room, and Megan hollered, “I’ll call you in the morning.”

Meanwhile, Duke looked over his shoulder and shot me an angry stare.

Finally, peace and quiet.
I fluffed my pillow, adjusted the bed, and cozied up as much as I possibly could on the flat mattress, dozing off to sleep. And when I did, I dreamt about Duke Thrasher and those mysterious green eyes.

 

CHAPTER TWO

A few hours later, I awoke to a dark room, desperately needing to get to the bathroom to pee. I steadily picked myself up off the bed, just in case my head was still wanting to spin, and walked into the bathroom. I relaxed as I relieved myself of six glasses of wine. I washed my hands and then checked my stitches in the mirror for the second time that night, thankful it felt worse than it really was.

I flipped the light off, shuffled through the dark room, and climbed back into bed, catching a glimpse of a dark shadow in the chair next to the bed.

I gasped. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go.”

Duke stared at me intently before speaking softly. “I told you I’m not leaving.”

I got comfortable, resting on my side, and pulled the rail down so I could see him from where I was lying. Sleepily, I whispered, almost unable to hear myself, “I have to admit, you’re kind of creeping me out.”

He laughed quietly, and for the first time, his smile reached his eyes. “I’m not trying to creep you out. I just can’t leave you. Not until I know you’re okay.”

I sat up slowly and folded my legs again, leaning forward so I was sure to have his undivided attention. “Do I look like I’m not okay? I’m perfectly fine. The medical team already fixed me, and I’m just waiting to be released from this place.”

“And when you are safely back home, then I’ll go, but until then, you’re stuck with me.” He growled.

I huffed and threw myself back down on the bed like a child who hadn’t gotten her way.

Duke chuckled at my antics, and then we both sat there in silence until I thought he’d fallen asleep.

Quietly turning back to my side, I peeked up at his eyes.
Shit!

“I don’t sleep much,” he said. “It’s another thing that comes with the job.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “You don’t sleep, you don’t talk…

What do you do, other than annoy me?”

He stretched his arms back behind his head, revealing further how muscular his biceps were. “I protect people... and I talk. I just don’t talk to strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger, well, I am, but I’m a nice stranger. Hell, I haven’t screamed at the top of my lungs yet to get you kicked out again, so if you’re going to stay here for the rest of the night, then we’re going to talk.”

He got up out of the chair and paced back and forth, almost putting a hole in the floor, before coming back to my bedside and sitting down. “Fine, let’s talk.”

I fist-pumped the air in victory before thinking carefully about my first question, not wanting to dive in too deep. I knew if I crossed the line, I wouldn’t get anything out of him, so I kept it simple. “Where are you from?”

His response quick, “Tampa.”

“Born and raised?”

“Yes.”

One word answer, Okay, two can play this game.
“Where’d you go to high school?”

“Jesuit.”

A funny smile crept over my face. “An all-boys high school? That must have been…” I tried to come up with the best word but was interrupted when Duke interjected.

“Gay?”

I laughed hysterically at his word choice, “Well, I was looking for something a little more politically correct, but yes, that’s where I was going.”

His frame relaxed as he sunk into the chair and smiled up at me.

I continued my game of Twenty Questions managing to discover that he was twenty-seven years old and a single child. Both parents had passed when he was eighteen. He’d lived in North Carolina for eight years after his parents died, although he didn’t say why. But that was all of the information he was willing to give up before turning the tables on to me.

“What about you?” he inquired.

“Well, where do I start? First of all, unlike yourself, I’m a talker. Basically, if I’m not running my mouth, there’s a problem. I was born and raised here in Tampa. I graduated from Tampa Preparatory School and then shipped off to the University of Florida where I spent the best four years of my life partying and pursuing my degrees in education and political science, to which I have now been back for a little over a year at Tampa Prep teaching. I have an older brother who is an attorney in New York City, my mother sits on practically every nonprofit board of directors from here to the Florida/Georgia state line, and my father — well, he’s my father.”

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