Read Done [Running to Love 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) for Free Online Page A

dressed in green smiled at her. “There you are. How are you feeling?”
    She tried to form words, but her throat was scratchy and dry.
    “Here, honey, take a sip of this.” She sipped at the proffered straw, and the room-temperature water tasted like nirvana.
    “I’m okay,” she croaked. Whatever the hell “okay” was. She wasn’t dead.
    “I’m going to bring the head of the bed up a little. You’ve been asleep quite some time and while you need rest, I want you to wake up and think about having something to eat in a little while.”
    Lacey thought she’d puke. She shook her head. “Something to drink,” she managed.
    “It’ll just be some soup and Jell-O, honey,” the nurse told her. “And for now I’ll get you some tea. Do you take sweetener?”
    “Honey, please.”
    The green uniform vanished from sight, and Lacey promptly closed her eyes again and tried not to think. About anything. She had dreamt that Greg was here. She knew her baby wasn’t. She felt a presence and carefully cracked one eye open again. Greg was standing by the bed, looking at her with an expression she didn’t have the strength or inclination to interpret. She chose the coward’s way out and pretended she didn’t know he was there. She heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the tile floor and realized he was going to sit by her bedside. Hysterical laughter began to form in her empty belly, threatening to erupt. She was too weak to fight it, and it escaped as a sob. Greg was at her side instantly, taking her free hand, stroking her hair back from her face with his other, murmuring nonsensical things at her temple, just like he used to do after he’d driven her to the height of sexual ecstasy and didn’t want her to crash. Lacey wished for the ground to open up and swallow her, right after a bolt of lightning fried Greg to a crisp. She hated him in that moment, understood how fine the line was between love and hate. He could go fuck himself. She had been working hard at not swearing in preparation for setting a good example for her baby, but now it didn’t matter anymore. She resolutely kept her eyes closed and controlled her breathing, the anger giving her a brief burst of strength to be able to do so, and as she relaxed, Greg pulled back. She heard the chair creak as he sat down again. He didn’t release her hand.
    “Here’s her tea.” Lacey cursed Sheila’s bad timing and ignored her.
    “She made a sound like she was in pain, but she’s still sleeping.”
    “She’s awake, Mr. Jackson. She probably just doesn’t want to talk to anyone just now. Perhaps you could go and have a meal or a coffee or something while I check her vitals and help her to the bathroom.”
    Lacey listened to the silence and felt Greg’s dominance fill it and was very nearly transported back in time. She somehow kept a tight rein on her conditioned response, undermined further by the after effects of the anesthetic, and was relieved when she heard him acquiesce again. When she was sure he had left the room, she opened her eyes and looked at the nurse.
    “Do you want me to keep him out of your room for a while, Lacey?” The nurse’s tone and inflection said she’d heard and seen it all before. Bless her.
    “I need a little time until I can face him myself, thanks,” Lacey said faintly. “But the sooner, the better, I think. He didn’t used to be easily dissuaded.”
    The nurse nodded and busied herself folding bedclothes back and supporting Lacey as she struggled to sit on the side of the bed. The trip to the bathroom took an eternity, and the necessary change of the padding brought tears that wouldn’t stop. They flowed as if from a tap, dripping off the end of her chin, soaking the front of the hospital gown. The nurse comforted her as she would a child, blotting the moisture up with a cool cloth that felt wonderful on her scalded cheeks, and by the time Lacey was tucked back into bed in a clean gown, all thoughts of tea or