The nurse filled in the report, hanging at the foot of my bed while she talked. “We’ll see where we are tomorrow. Let’s not worry about that yet. Dr. Mirage wouldn’t steer you wrong. He’s one of the best.”
I could hear her words, but they were mystique. Each word, echoing in my ears. Did she say mirage? That’s what this was. A mirage. Delusion. I was hallucinating. It was the only logical explanation.
I jerked from pain when the nurse lifted my knee. She didn’t bend the left one, but nonetheless, it hurt like mad when she moved it out. I thought my hips were crumbling into pieces. One fist squeezed the covers hard and one squeezed Paxton’s hand. I felt the foreign object being ejected from my body and a little more relief was felt.
The nice nurse patted my bare leg, explaining her plan. “Hang in there for a second, sweetie. We’ll try to put you on a bedpan. I’ll be right back.” She covered my nakedness and left me with Paxton.
For a second I thought I was hallucinating on top of hallucinating. Paxton slid my gown up my hips and trailed his fingers down my stomach. I had to be hallucinating. There was no other justification. This didn’t happen in real life.
Paxton smiled a mischievous smile, moving in and out of focus, and spoke with curvy words. “Nine days without shaving is a long time. Maybe we should take care of that,” I heard him grunt some sort of animal-like, lust noise at precisely the same moment I felt his fingers slide inside me. Seriously?
I did manage to speak without moving. “What are you doing? Stop it.” I couldn’t move. I was higher than a kite for one, and two, it hurt too much to even try. All I could do was lay there and let Paxton touch me. This guy was deranged. Something wasn’t right upstairs.
“That’s not the only thing, nine days is a long time for,” he said in a gravely tone, right on my lips. He didn’t move his fingers or stop the invasion until the two nurses came with the bedpan. I don’t know for sure if I used it or not. I crashed again. I crashed hard, trying with all my might to make it all go away. This wasn’t my life. This couldn’t be my life. Not this man. Not Paxton Pierce. Not me.
I vaguely remember asking for more pain meds during the night, and I vaguely remember Paxton taking care of me. He laid in my bed with me and held me to his body while I wretched in pain. His lips kissed my head and his hand caressed my sore ribs.
The sun was bright and shining when I woke the next time. A glare on the sparkling white floor caught my eye, and then his. He was always there. Why? Why didn’t he leave?
Our eyes locked and we held a glance while I sat myself up more. Paxton stood and moved my cup of water to my lips. I sucked on the straw, welcoming the cold liquid.
I turned my head away when I had enough and accused him of what I knew. “I know what you did. You touched me.” The memory was faint, but I knew it happened. I felt his hand between my legs. With everything in me, I knew it was real.
Paxton set the cup back to the table and laughed. Full blown gut laugh. Even his eyes lit up. I turned my head when he leaned in for a kiss, causing him to miss. He placed it on the corner of my mouth. “Like I said. I own you and I own your *. I touch it whenever and wherever I want. Don’t forget that.”
I stared up to him, feeling completely off. This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right. “You’re a psycho. I’m not leaving here with you,” I said with great assurance while I tried to back away.
“We’ll talk later. I have to run by a jobsite. Get some rest,” Paxton said with a caring tone and a kiss to my forehead. I watched him leave, staring after him in I’m not sure what. Shock? Disbelief? I was terrified. This man was bad. This wasn’t right. There was absolutely no way I was married to Paxton Pierce. No way in hell.
I was brought a tray of rubbery eggs and a cup of coffee shortly after Paxton had left. I tasted the cold toast, and snarled my nose at the eggs. Gross. Just like the nurse had promised the night before, I got up. Against my will, through all the pain, I walked on crutches a few short feet to the bathroom. The length of a football field was more like it. That’s what it felt like.
“We’ve been giving you a stool softener. Are you okay to sit here for a minute while I change your bed?”
I held the cold bar with my hand, trying like hell to deal with the pain. It was mostly in my chest and my right hip, the one with the blue brace, sticking straight out in front of me.
“I can’t,” I huffed. No way in hell was I doing that. I could barely sit there. Just peeing took the rest of my energy.
“Okay, just sit there and relax. We’ll get your bed changed and get you something for the pain.”