When Angels Cry (3 page)

B
astian sat in the chair and watched the nurse plug in the IV and reset the machine,
eliciting
a few responding beeps.  She
c
heck
ed
Kaylee’s vitals
and, d
imming the lamps, glanced at Bastian. 

“Can I get you anything?”

He shook his head. 
“I’m fine, thanks.”
 

“Push the call button if you need anything.” 
The nurse scribbled something on Kaylee’s chart
.
She exited
,
and Bastian heard her slide Kaylee’s chart into the plastic holder outside the door.

Once alone with Kaylee, he stepped toward her, trying to muffle the clap of his boots on the linoleum, but there was no way to quiet the sound.  Kaylee’s eyes fluttered
,
and she peered at him questioningly.

“Who are you?”

“Bastian Connelly.  I’m the guy who interrupted your swim a while ago.
  How are you feeling?”
His voice sounded odd, somehow nervous.  Why should he be nervous?

“Head hurts.” 
Kaylee blinked as though trying to focus.  She lifted it from the pillow and started to rise.

Bastian frowned. 
“Easy, Kiddo.  You sure you should be moving around like that?” 
He folded his arms across his chest to keep from hovering.

“I’m all right.
  I want to go home.”
  Kaylee lifted a hand
to
her left temple. 

“I don’t think it’s in the plan
—not
tonight, anyway.  The doctor said you need to stay for observation.”
Bastian sat in the chair across from the bed. 

Kaylee sat up and slipped her legs over the
bed’s
side, starting to stand.  “The doctor can shove it up hi
s--”   Kay
lee’s knees suddenly buckled, and she gasped as her body pitched forward.

“Now I know you shouldn’t be doing that.  And if you stay, I won’t tell your doctor what you just said.” 
Bastian lurched out of the chair and caught her as she fell.  He slipped his arm under the bend of her knees, lifted her back to the bed. 

Kaylee didn’t respond.  Instead, she lay back, trying to relax.  Lines of pain and exhaustion etched themselves deep across her forehead.

“What happened earlier?  I mean, one minute you almost get broadsided by a Taurus, and the next you’re going for a swim.”
Bastian leaned forward and
laced his fingers together,
resist
ing
the urge to touch
her
face.  Her wan skin appeared smooth, supple over the swell of her cheekbones. 

She stared at him. 
“I have a migraine.  I get them a lot, and sometimes it’s really tough to focus on what’s going on around me.”
 
Kaylee’s eyelids fluttered open
,
and she stared at Bastian.

“Migraine, eh?  Maybe you should see about getting a prescription.  That stunt could have killed you.”  A tremor undercut the usual calm of his tone.

“They don’t have any drugs that help.”

“There has to be something they can give you.” 
Bastian sat up straight, trying to stretch out. 

Kaylee clenched her jaw.  “
Nope
,” she snapped.  “Besides, it’s my headache.”

Bastian arched one eyebrow.  “Fair enough,” he agreed.  “It is your headache.  But who’s to say I’ll be handy the next time you fall in?”  He tapped his fingers on the armrest.

Kaylee snuggled deeper into her pillow, resigning herself  to a night of disinfectant hell. 
“
Sorry you had to dive in after me. 
There won’t be a next time
.
”

Bastian grinned. 
“I’m not
.  I always wanted to be a member of the Polar Bear Club.  If this doesn’t count for my initiation, I don’t know what will
.
”
 

“The water was
s
o cold,
” Kaylee whispered and a shiver ran through her.  Her voice softened
, dusted with fatigue
. 

Bastian rose. 
“Yeah, it was.  You look wiped.   I should let you get some rest before
the
nurse throws me out.”
Without realizing it, h
e’d
beg
u
n to tuck the blanket
more tightly
around her body.  He was almost out of her reach
when
Kaylee
found
his hand.

“Don’t leave.”  Her voice slurred, merging the words
.
  “Please.  I don’t want to be alone.  I hate hospitals.”  She clutched his hand.

Bastian squeezed reassuringly and tried to let go, but her fingers gripped more tightly.  “You need your rest.  Besides, I’m quite sure the good doctor has called your family.” 
It’s just a little white lie
, Bastian thought.

“No, he didn’t.  They’re out of town and can’t be reached.” 
Kaylee closed her eyes and nestled closer to the warmth settling through her.
 
Her voice faded into silence.  Still, she kept her grip even as she hedged toward unconsciousness.

Bastian sat. 
Maybe I can slip away after she
’s
asleep
, he thought.   He stared at her as the
soft glow from the hallway illuminated the gentle
,
unbroken line of her nose, the swell of her lips
,
and the subtle curve of her chin as it gave way to her
long graceful
neck.  A single strand of her hair
had
slipped into her face
,
and she stirred slightly, trying to move it away.  It stubbornly remained. 

Bastian brushed it aside
, and a
moment later, Kaylee’s body stilled, and her slumber deepened.  Bastian could tell not only by the regular
,
peaceful way her chest rose and fell but also by the way her grip slowly relaxed until she barely held on.  Her skin pressed softly against his palm as he
took in
the demure build of her hands compared to his own. 
Her
medium-length nails
were
painted a soft brown.

Bastian released a sigh of relief
,
gingerly picked up her hand and placed it across her chest.  As he leaned over her, he was struck by how closely she resembled one of the women Dante Rossetti had depicted in his Raphaelite paintings.  But that
had been
art, and this was a woman.  No real person should have been this beautiful, he thought.

But she was.

“Damn,” Bastian muttered.  He walked to the door and hovered there, waiting to make a decision he didn’t realize he’d
already made.
H
is hand
fell
from the knob. 

             
He sat down and slouched deep in the chair, waiting for sleep.
 
“This is one night, lady, and only one night.”

Chapter Two

“Ms. Renard?”

Bastian peeled open his eyes to find a doctor touching Kaylee’s arm.  She stirred, murmuring in her sleep as she shrank from his touch and drifted back to sleep.  The doctor frowned, furrowed his brows
,
and
waited.  After a moment, he gingerly rocked her shoulder.

“Kaylee?” he inquired.

Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared--first at the doctor
,
as though trying to place him
, then at
her surroundings before coming to rest on Bastian.  Her lips parted in a surprised
O
.

“I’m Dr. Andrews.  How are you feeling?” 
The doctor’s
expression relaxed,
the furrows
easing
.  He pulled up the chair on the opposite side of Kaylee’s bed
but s
he closed her eyes and laid her head back.  One small hand touched her forehead, prodding tentatively.

“I’ve still got a headache.
  When can I go?
”  She massaged her temples. After only a moment, the motion ceased, convincing both Bastian and Andrews that she’d drifted back to sleep.  Then her eyes  open
ed again
. 

“Let’s see how your breathing sounds.” 
Dr. Andrews scrutinized the chart in his hand
and h
e tugged a stethoscope from around his neck
.
  “Take a deep breath.”  Kaylee did.  He moved the stethoscope.  “And another.”  Again, Kaylee complied.

“I’m not sure you should just yet.  Last night you complained of bad headaches
and w
e took a
CAT
scan
to be on the safe side.  We were worried that you were sleeping so deeply we could hardly rouse you.  You probably don’t even remember that, do you?”
He repeated the process three more times before he finally scribbl
ed
on her chart.  When he finally let the stethoscope drop against his chest and pulled the earpieces free, he peered at her.  A hint of the frown had returned. 

”I’ve seen the
CAT
scans
.
  I want to go home.” 
She began to raise herself up on her elbows.  Bastian, alarmed by the sudden movement, scooted to the edge of his chair.

“I don’t think you understand,” Dr. Andrews said, flipping through the pages of her chart.

“That’s where you’re mistaken.  It seems that nobody understands but me.  And I’m going.  Home is the only place I ever feel better.” 
Kaylee glared at him.
 
Sitting up the rest of the way, she swung her legs over the side.

 
“That’s not a good idea.  There are so many other things we could try.” 
Dr. Andrews shook his head.  His fingers clenched
the clipboard
tightly. 

“I don’t want ‘other things,’ thank you.  I want to go home.  Period.”

As
Kaylee
, Bastian
wondered w
hat
she
was
thinking
.
  The doctor
had
just told her to stay in bed, and she look
ed
like she could pass out at any moment.  
Bastian
wanted to grab her and put her back
: she looked way too small and thin
in that hospital gown.

“Be reasonable, ” Dr. Andrews said.  He tapped the clipboard against his palm.

“I want to go home.  That’s it.”

“Fine.
  I’ll get the nurse to start on the paperwork.”
  The doctor scribbled on her chart.  With a sigh, he strode out, and the door swished noiselessly closed behind him, leaving the
room
in a deep silence.

“If I were you
,
I’d have listened.  Then again, you don’t like doctors, I take it.” 
Bastian rose, a weak smile etching itself across his face.   He turned and stepped to the window, nudged a few blind slats apart, and peered
out
at an overcast day.

 
“You’re not me.” 
She quickly pulled at the tape holding the IV in place and then eased the catheter from her arm.  Although a little blood pooled at the IV site, she ignored it. 
Kaylee stepped slowly, brushing her hand across the chair and wall for guidance as she shuffled to the closet
to
grab
h
er clothes.

“Damn it, Kaylee. 
Could
n’t
y
ou be reasonable
?
” 
He could hear the wiry brush of the hangers on the rod
and
turned in time to see her bent over and the soft
fluorescent
highlighting
long,
shapely legs in a balancing stance. 

“Who are you anyway?  My keeper?
”  Kaylee grabbed her clothes and whirled to face him. 

Bastian leveled his gaze at her, daring her to meet it. 
“What’s so insane about letting people help you?” 

“Just forget it, okay?  I don’t think I could make you understand even if I wanted to, which I don’t.” 
Exasperated, she stalked into the bathroom
and
slammed the door so hard that the
wall
mirror  jumped.

“Now there’s something we can agree on.”
Bastian plunked into
a
chair
, b
rush
ing
his fin
gers through his hair and touching
his cheek, feeling the stiff prickle of new stubble.  He envisioned his rugged reflection in a mirror but shrugged
away
the image.  What did
it
matter?  Getting rid of the stubble on his face wouldn’t get rid of the stubble in his life, so what the fuck?  Did he think
it would
impress her?  Not likely
;
even if he were interested, women like her didn’t do stubble
.  T
hey liked those Soloflex-smooth college jock
s
.  Brushing his hand across his roughened chin,
Bastian
thought about the gun still waiting for him.

Kaylee came out wearing the same black skirt and top as before.  Pausing in front of the mirror, she brushed her hair into place with her fingers
and it
fell in soft waves around her oval face.  Satisfied, Kaylee sat on the bed and put on her shoes.

“
S
orry I snapped at you,” she said.  “You didn’t deserve that.  You did save my life
,
after all, and you seem like a nice enough guy.  It’s just
,
well...I hate hospitals
—and
I’m just a little embarrassed by this whole thing.” 
She smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. 

“Ah, humility at last.”
  Bastian
g
rinned.

The door opened
,
and a nurse entered with a clipboard.  “Here,” she said.  “You need to sign these.”  She thrust a pen into Kaylee’s hand. 

“I didn’t see my purse in the cabinet.  Do you know where it is?”

             
“At the bottom of the pond,” Basti
an answered.  “I thought saving
you was
a little
more important than saving your purse.”

The nurse took the clipboard, peeled away the yellow copy of each form, and handed them to Kaylee.  “These are for your records,” she said and, without a further word,
stalked
out the door.

 
Kaylee shrugged. 
“I wouldn’t usually ask this, but I don’t have a choice.  Could you give me a ride home?  I know it’s a terrible imposition.
  Or maybe you could just loan me the fare–yeah
,
that might be better–and I could mail it back with interest or something. I’d appreciate it.
” 
Kaylee stepped to the window and raised the blinds momentarily to see
the
overcast sk
y
and more fresh snow.  She shook her head and nervously chewed her bottom lip.
 

Bastian’s shoulders tensed. 
Yeah, well, that makes two of us without money, lady.  Otherwise
,
I’d gladly just give you the fare. 
Like it or not
,
though, it looked like he was going to be stuck with her for a bit longer, which might not be a bad thing
,
after all
,
so long as he didn’t piss her off.

He shrugged.  “I’ll take you home.  Why not?  And on the way, maybe we could bomb a medical complex since you seem so fond of
them
.
  And you don’t owe me anything.”

The damned
“
Why not
”
was that he found himself liking her even though
,
right now
,
he didn’t want to like anything or any
one.  It only complicated thing
s
. 

“You ready to go?” Kaylee asked.  She
took her coat out of the closet, and Bastian watched her lithe body disappear into the baggy black leather. 

Bastian nodded and stepped out of the room, listening to the tap of her heels on
the
linoleum.  In the hall, dietary workers busily carted trays into rooms
, and n
urses bustled about carrying clipboards and IV bags.
 
Kaylee paused, watching the flurry of activity and shivered.  Head lowered
and
eyes forward, she quickened her pace.   Bastian strove to keep up.

Kaylee looked back. 
“I was wondering if you were coming.”

“I’m here.”  He shove
d
his hands into his pockets.

“Thanks again,” she said, smiling weakly, “for the ride.”

Bastian shook his head. 
“Thank me after you see my truck.”

“I don’t care what you drive.  It beats walking.”

“Yeah,
” Bastian snorted, “
if the
t
hing starts
.
”
   He stared at the exit ahead even though he felt Kaylee’s gaze resting on him.  “What are you looking at?” he growled.

“You.” 
Kaylee blushed and glanced at the floor, counting the tiles as they passed. 

Bastian felt the tag of his shirt rubbing his neck and quickly stopped and searched for it.

“What are you doing?” 

“The tag is itching.” 
Bastian felt the hem, knowing that scratchy swatch had to be there somewhere. 

“You’re not having much luck.  Here–let me help.”  She moved behind him, plucked the tag loose, and handed it to him.  

“Thanks.
  I hate tags.
”  He shoved it into his pocket.  Bastian resumed walking, and they lapsed into another silence that lasted until they reached the parking lot.  As Bastian fished out his keys and stopped in front of his truck, he noted
Kaylee’s
surprised expression. 
No,
l
ady
, he thought,
I don’t have as much money as you.  Anymore.

“I told you it wasn’t a limo,” he muttered.

“It’s not like you live in it.”

Bastian unlocked the door
, and
thought,
C
ome tomorrow I might
. 
If I’m still around.
  He yanked open the door and gestured Kaylee inside.  Once she’d seated herself and pulled her skirt and coat out of the way, he elbowed the door closed and circled around, sliding into the driver’s seat. 
Then he turned the key. 
W
ith a loud bang, the ignition caught.

“Well,” Bastian drawled.  “I guess neither of us will be walking.”

“That’s a good thing,” Kaylee replied, wrapping her arms around herself.

As Bastian backed the truck out, he laid his arm across the top of the passenger seat and his fingers brushed past Kaylee’s silky hair.  He pretended not to notice but left his arm in place
an
yway.  Then he drew his denim jacket collar higher on his neck.

“Sorry about the cold.  The heater doesn’t work.”  His breath funneled out in clouds before dissipating.  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of worn gloves and set them on the seat.  “These will keep your hands warm.”