True Identity (The Lost and Found series Book 1) Page 4

  “Just small sips only.”

  Oh Mama! My hands were shuddering. Since when had another person caused me to shake so much?

  Praying I could keep the water from spilling, I raised the bedhead a little more and then draped myself over him, keeping my eyes on his mouth and not his continued scrutiny of me.

  “Open up.” Placing the cup to his mouth, I tipped it up until the clear liquid touched his dry lips. I’d never wanted to be that paper cup more in my life. Even though his lips were dry, they looked soft. Kissable. I watched in fascination as they molded to the rim of the cup. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, causing me to do the same. They had me thinking all kinds of thoughts.

  Get a grip, girl. He’s a patient. You’re working here. You’re a professional.

  Noticing him attempting to chug it down, I drew the cup away and placed it on the metal drawers beside him. “That’s enough for now. Small and often is best.” Pressing the pager on my hip, I hoped Chase would hurry up. Now that Harley wasn’t just a lump on a bed but an awake Adonis, I stressed. What if he felt me touching him inappropriately earlier?

  If he reported it to Admin, I could lose my job, and being the only stability in my life, I couldn’t afford for that to happen.

  As I brought my arm back down toward my side, I nearly lost it again when I felt his touch. My neck pivoted to the large, veined hand gripping my wrist.

  “Mac.”

  Holy hell. He knew my name. He had heard stuff. Crap.

  “How…I mean…did you…?” God, what a bumbling idiot.

  “Angel.”

  “Angel?” He had my full attention now. His dark lower lashes made him look like he wore eye-liner. Combined with his mesmerizing, sexier than thou eyes, the room closed in. Where was Chase? My breathing stalled, his fingers pressing on my pulse point. When his eyebrow quirked slightly, it became evident he knew how he affected me.

  I had to get it together, instead of floundering. Quickly snatching my arm back, his firm grip fell away. I rotated to the door, willing someone to open it and walk through, keeping my back to him while I breathed through my reaction to his voice and his words.

  Whether his scratchy tone was from being parched, I couldn’t tell. Perhaps it always sounded gritty. His plea not to leave him had caught me off guard. Why had he said that? Was he scared? I guess I owed him a little understanding, given his circumstances. Waking up in a strange place with someone you didn’t know must be daunting. How would I react? Probably the same.

  Deciding to grow a pair, I faced him again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital in Ann Arbor. You were brought in a week ago with no identification, so we don’t know who you are, where you live, or anything about you. For now, your name is Harley.”

  His puzzled expression failed to surprise me as I moved around the room. With the heart monitor under control, I unwrapped a syringe and inserted it into his cannula to draw some blood. I could feel his watchful eyes on me. Then again, he had no one else to stare at in the room. He probably had lots of questions running through his head.

  With no prompting from me, he grated out, “Sing.”

  Luckily I had just taken the needle out, otherwise I may have caused him an injury with my astonishment. What on earth? His strange request had me glaring at him—through him in an attempt to figure out why he said that one word. I’d sung yesterday while working but…surely not. Had he been conscious since then? My brain kicked into high gear.

  “You heard me sing? How? Did you catch everything I said?” I needed to know. None of my other coma patients had ever admitted to hearing anything, so I asked with great interest.

  “Angel.”

  Again with the angel thing. Using my sleuthing skills, which came in handy being a nurse, attempting to figure out patient’s symptoms among other things, I thought hard. Why would someone who had just met me call me angel and then ask me to sing?

  The penny dropped. My voice. While pulling out of the coma, he must have mistaken me for an angel. Had he wondered if death had stolen him?

  Smiling for the first time, I replied, “Well, if you say so, but I’m really not that good. I wouldn’t call my voice angelic, but I do like to sing. I can’t believe you heard me.” Perching against the edge of the bed, I found his attention still trained on me.

  “I’m glad you found some comfort in it. I’ve heard doctors discussing the very real notion that while in a coma, patients have some faculties. It’s obviously true. Amazing really, when you think about it.”

  He blinked heavily.

  Pondering on what song to sing, I chose, Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone.”

  I didn’t want to appear to be singing directly to him, so I moved to tidy up the back counter, throwing away any rubbish and straightening paperwork. I absorbed myself into the lyrics, working on autopilot, as if I didn’t have a one man audience who oozed intensity, hanging on every word. Singing took me to a different place, one where I was free. Nothing else mattered as I became the words, feeling the story behind the song.

  When the song ended, my neck heated as I hesitantly turned in Harley’s direction. He lay deathly still, and for a moment I thought he may have dozed off, but when I connected with his absurd eyes, his pupils had glassed over and his eyebrows were pressed together with emotion. He’d been moved by it.

  Nick didn’t care about my voice. Having someone truly connect with the lyrics the way Harley had gave me a brilliant rush. The nurses who heard me were always commenting, but nothing like this. Harley didn’t have to speak. His expression told the story. Any singer would tell you the same thing. It’s the connection to listeners that matter. The ability to draw them away from the tune and into the story behind the words. I’d done that and it felt amazing.

  Pressing my embarrassment aside, I returned to nurse mode, needing to disconnect from his pull.

  “Are you tired? You should rest. I need to go and see what’s keeping the doctor and run these bloods to the lab.”

  I patted his hand. He swiftly turned his over so that he effectively held mine. He squeezed, taking me off guard. I needed to remember the patient/nurse rules, even though I’d already broken them.

  His palm felt surprisingly warm, considering the room was cool. Mine felt tiny, almost childlike and yet, because of that the sensation, brought me comfort. Like if I held on tight, he’d protect me and never let anything happen to me.

  “Stay.”

  That one word did things to me it shouldn’t. My neglected heart opened its doors. Someone wanted me. Needed me. A foreign sensation. Sure, patients relied on nurses all the time to bring them things and take their pain away, but I always disconnected from it. I couldn’t with Harley. His eyes held fright. His tone carried fear. He latched on to me as a child would, after waking from a deep sleep, crying out for their mother. Someone comforting.

  “I’m not going far, I promise. Just outside the door.” I went to tug my hand away, but he held firm. I glanced down as soon as I felt a shudder. His hand was quivering.

  “Stay!” It was more of an order now than a plea, and I wasn’t quite sure how to react. He seemed afraid to be left alone even for a moment.

  “Okay. I’m not going anywhere, but I am going to have to leave this room at some stage to pee and take a break. The blood needs to be tested too.”

  Pressing the pager again, I could only remain at his bedside until Chase eventually showed up. He must have had an emergency to tend to. Damn, I desperately needed a coffee. Until then, I’d have to sit tight and hold Harley’s hand. I guess I could handle it. Just doing my job, right?

  Chapter Eight

  Harley

  Now that I had my bearings, and knew without a doubt I wasn’t dead, and the voice I’d been hearing in my comatose state had been Mac’s, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

  It wasn’t her shapely figure or short, blonde choppy bob haircut. It wasn’t even her delicate, ivory skin I’d felt touch me more than a nurse should. No. She lit u
p the room with her presence, giving off some sort of magic, because I sure as hell had been ensnared in her spell. Even her leaf green eyes, which darted back and forth between mine and everything else in the room, although glorious, weren’t what made her special.

  I wanted to know her. Everything. What her favorite foods were. Movies. Colors. Habits.

  I could tell I made her nervous by the way she swallowed thickly and tried to quell her trembling hands. Did I frighten her? I doubted that. How could I, being incapacitated? If I had to guess, I’d say she felt things that were taboo for any nurse. Her body language spoke volumes. I affected her the way she affected me.

  I didn’t have time to ponder it long before the door burst open and a doctor hurried in. “Nurse? You paged me? Sorry, I got tied up with Mrs. Sullivan down in room six. She had another episode.”

  The doctor didn’t wait for Mac’s reply, but found my gaze, and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re awake! That’s great.”

  “That’s not why I paged you, Doctor. He had another bout of tachycardia, but everything has settled down now he’s awake.”

  The man moved over to me and proceeded to check me over as Mac had already done. Procedure, I guessed.

  “I have some bloods here that need to go to the lab. Do you think I could run them down and grab a coffee while I’m out?”

  My head pivoted toward her as she made her way to the door. Panic nestled low in my belly. It caused me to cry out again. “No!”

  My arm came up of its own accord, palm facing the roof, fingers pointing toward her in a ‘don’t leave me’ fashion.

  Confusion mapped her face and then her mouth settled into a dazzling smile. “It’s okay, Harley. I’ll only be a few minutes. Doctor will stay with you until I get back. Right, Doc?”

  “Yeah. You go. Who’s doing breaks this morning?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll forfeit mine if I have to, as long as I can grab a coffee.”

  She glanced at me again and nodded, attempting to console me. My throat narrowed to the diameter of a straw.

  She must have seen the change. “You’ll be fine. You need to calm down and breathe deeply and evenly.”

  Why did I feel like I couldn’t function without her nearby?

  “PTSD,” the doctor said, standing beside my bed. “It’s common after a traumatic experience. You were shot. It’s a lot for the body and mind to cope with.”

  I heard him but didn’t really register his words as I watched Mac quietly leave me. My jaw became rigid, teeth clenched as I attempted to suck in air. Without her, the fear closed in. Helpless. Frightened. Anxiety rose sharp and fast.

  “Please,” I whispered. “I need her in here with me.”

  Nodding, the doctor said, “It’s normal under your circumstances to latch on to the person you first woke to. Mac has a way with patients which makes them feel at ease.”

  All I wanted to do was claw at my neck to get some air. The sterile smell of the room became too much. I wanted my angel’s scent.

  “Can you remember anything prior to being in hospital? Like what happened to you? We know you were shot, but apart from that we have nothing to go on.”

  I couldn’t focus on anything except Mac. How long had she been gone? Seconds? Minutes?

  Shaking my head, I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my fear to ease. I didn’t like feeling this way. Desperate and needy. My brain seemed to be in control of my body, and normally that might be a good thing, but not in this case.

  “Where is she?” I grated out, eyes still sealed tightly. I didn’t care if I sounded crazy. Nothing mattered except Mac’s return. Now.

  A chuckle had me open them to see the amused doctor.

  “It’s only been three minutes. How will you cope when she leaves for the day?”

  The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I’d already spent nights without her before gaining full-consciousness. But being able to see her made her real. And being real had my need for her at an all-time high. It didn’t make sense, but at this point, nothing did.

  “We can give you something to help you sleep to keep you comfortable. How’s your pain level now? Do you need any meds?”

  Focusing on my body, I could feel a tightness in my chest where my wound sat. It wasn’t pain exactly. More like discomfort. “Not yet.”

  I didn’t like the idea of sleep either. Being back in the nothing. Alone. My lids were leaden, and if not for my brain fighting it off, I’d fall asleep in seconds.

  The doctor fussed and proceeded to read my chart while he waited, killing time. We didn’t converse again. I turned my head toward the window, which looked out onto another wing of the hospital. Nothing special, but perhaps if I focused on something other than my angel’s absence, it would help me calm down.

  Did I normally get stressed out? Were the snippets of my nature peeking through, the real me? I hoped not, because I hated the sensation of panic and despair.

  It took ages for Mac to reappear. It felt like it, anyway. Seeing her face again made me sag into the bed.

  Immediately I calmed. She carried her coffee and placed it on the countertop opposite me. My whole body cheered with relief. My chest muscles relaxed and my breathing evened out.

  “What took so long?” Turning to me, she failed to meet my gaze.

  Glancing at her watch, her eyebrows rose. “Ah, I practically ran to the lab and then it took a couple of minutes to make the coffee. All in all, I’d say that was a world record.”

  “Indeed, Mac. Thanks for being so prompt. I’ve got a ton of patients to see.” The doctor walked to the door and turned at the last minute, smiling at Mac. “I’ll leave you to it then.” He quickly looked at me, and then turned and left us alone.

  “So, now that you are awake, we’ll get the ball rolling to have you moved to a ward.” She only gave me a flicker of attention while she placed some new meds into a cabinet.

  What? No. That would mean losing her. I couldn’t have that. Jesus. I’d only just woken up. I needed to be in ICU. Couldn’t she see that? Did she want me to go?

  “I’m not ready. I should stay here.” It came out as childish, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass.

  She pulled a chair out from the corner of the room and dragged it beside the bed and sat down. Her garden aroma teased my senses.

  “Well, patients don’t get a choice. ICU is for critical and high care patients. You’re stable now. We need the room for others coming in. I will visit you, though. I promise.”

  Her green eyes with flecks of yellow watched me with sympathy. It did little to quell the whirlpool of disquiet.

  “You don’t understand. I can’t leave here. I can’t leave…you.” It was insane to hear the words. My brain wasn’t communicating in any way, shape, or form. My mouth had its own agenda. I’d become clingy and desperate.

  Her sensual lips parted, forcing me to lick mine.

  “It’s not my decision. You have to understand. It’s hospital procedure.” Her quiet voice sounded unsure. The hands in her lap, fiddled unnecessarily.

  Screw hospital procedure. Time for brutal honesty. I had nothing to lose. “I’m scared. I don’t know who I am or where I’ve come from. You make it easier to breathe. Only you do that. I don’t know why. Just…please! Don’t leave me! You’re all I’ve got.” She had to hear the truth. I needed to pull out all the stops to get her to understand. I was sinking in an ocean of amnesia. There was nothing I could grab onto. Except her.

  Nervousness floated over her features as she bit the corner of her bottom lip. “You shouldn’t put that on me. I’m your nurse. Nothing more. I can’t be with you twenty-four seven. I have a life outside this place.” Her eyes were cast downward. She couldn’t even look at me while she spoke.

  The words were whispered, as if she needed to convince herself. I’d heard her talking about her life and it didn’t sound like she had much of one at home.

  “Your boyfriend is an asshole.” It was out before I could stop it. My brain had off
icially switched off. It felt liberating, all the same.

  “Excuse me?” She froze after raising her head. Fire danced across her features, blended with disbelief.

  “I heard what you said to me. He’s married to his job. He doesn’t appreciate you. You’re an afterthought.” Nothing like shooting straight from the hip.

  Her eyes expanded further. “He’s trying. His job is stressful and takes up a lot of his time but he’s doing it for us.” I didn’t believe her for a second. And neither did she.

  I balked. “You can’t seriously buy that. Any guy would be crazy not to treat you like a queen. If you were my girl…”

  She cut me off, raising a hand. “Stop! Don’t say things like that. I’m not your girl. Please, we can’t be talking about this.” Amongst the sting of her words, I noticed sadness in her eyes. Her shoulders fell that little bit further and her mouth pressed firmly in resignation.

  I knew I’d crossed the line, but damn it, the longer she spent in the room with me, the more she burrowed under my skin. The fact that her partner, a guy who should adore her, put his work above his girl, bothered me immensely.

  “I just don’t want to lose you as my nurse.” If I got put into a regular ward, I’d never see her, despite her promise to visit. It’s not like she could frequently leave her post in ICU. She’d have another patient to take my place.

  Her features softened as she sat forward. “Look. I don’t mean to sound so harsh. I appreciate the fact that you like the way I’ve been caring for you and want it to continue. You wouldn’t be the first one to get attached to their nurse. It happens all the time. Trust that you will be fine without me.”

  She didn’t get it, and I didn’t really, either. I couldn’t explain what I felt when she wasn’t near. I just knew I didn’t like it. In her presence, I had an identity. Harley. Without her I became John Doe again. A no one. God, did I have money in the bank? If I had plenty of the green stuff, I’d pay her to be my personal nurse.

  How could I even find out my real name? Did I have a home somewhere? A car? A job? Surely someone would be able to identify me, otherwise on record, I would simply cease to exist. Mac had brought me back to life. That meant something. My light. My angel.