knew none of this could be real, it sure the heck felt like it was—right down to the busy doctors, nurses, and patients going about their day, taking no notice of little old me. The only thing people seemed to notice was Mr. tall, dark, and scary-as-shit-but-handsome behind me. Every woman within eyeshot tripped over herself or stopped and stared at Santiago who, by the way, acted completely oblivious.
He pushed me into the room and closed the door. “Put the gown back on and get back into bed,” he commanded.
I slowly rose from the wheelchair and avoided looking at him. The hair on my arms and on the back of my neck stood straight up, as if my body instinctually knew danger was near.
“Now,” he barked and shoved the blue gown over my shoulder.
Did he really expect me to undress in front of him?
“Can you turn around?” I asked, my voice trembling.
There was no reply.
I glanced over my shoulder, terrified to look at the man. Perhaps because he wasn’t a man, but a beast in a man’s skin. Or a demon only pretending to be human. Whatever he was, it couldn’t be the image perceived by my eyes. That image was of a guy, flesh and bone, so beautiful that I wanted to weep at his feet.
Santiago stood watching me with a feral, dark gaze, leaning against the door, arms crossed against his broad chest.
A deep, dark shiver quaked through me. “Who are you?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “I am your boyfriend. Says so right on Facebook. Now, dress.”
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to strip off my clothes in front of this terrifying stranger, especially given that I had nothing on under my jeans and sweatshirt.
I stepped over to the bed and slipped in with my clothes still on. I looked up at Santiago—if that was even this guy’s name—and waited for whatever he’d do to me.
He smiled in a displeased sort of way. “You’re not used to anyone telling you what to do, but you’ll learn.” He turned and reached for the door. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“Who are you?” This time, I demanded. Where had the courage to speak to him like that come from?
He stilled and slowly looked at me, his espresso eyes filled with a lethal tinge. “Lesson numero uno , Dakota: Don’t ask that question again. Ever.”
“But I picked your picture off the Internet. Who—”
He gave me a look that indicated he might hurt someone—me—if I said another word. “I’m going to say this one more time, Dakota. Just once.” He held up his index finger. “Stop asking questions. This isn’t a joke. Unless you consider death a joke. I. Am. Your. Boyfriend.”
He left the room, but his menacing vibe stuck to my skin like campfire smoke sticks to your clothes and hair.
Death ? Had he just threatened to kill me?
I pulled the covers up under my chin, trying not to break down while I thought through options. I could call the police, but given that everyone believed this guy was my boyfriend, I’d only look like a nut farmer. I could call Mandy and have her take me to her house where I could hide out, but I suspected Santiago would only find me and drag me back. Or I could wait until my mother returned and talk to her. Yes, she’d know what to do. I had to believe I could trust her despite her anger.
The doctor, an older, lanky man with silver hair, entered the room and interrupted my plotting. Santiago stood next to the door, watching me with those penetrating eyes, as if warning me not to make a scene.
“How’s the headache?” the doctor asked, flashing his penlight in my right eye.
I nodded quickly. “Fine. Good. It’s good. Maybe just a little dizzy.” Okay. I was a lot dizzy, but I wanted to get out of there.
The doctor pulled out my chart from a slot at the foot of the bed. “Well, it looks like you had a reaction to the medication we gave you. But your blood pressure is normal and fever is under a hundred and one. You should be released later today.”
“What time?” I asked.
“Not
He pushed me into the room and closed the door. “Put the gown back on and get back into bed,” he commanded.
I slowly rose from the wheelchair and avoided looking at him. The hair on my arms and on the back of my neck stood straight up, as if my body instinctually knew danger was near.
“Now,” he barked and shoved the blue gown over my shoulder.
Did he really expect me to undress in front of him?
“Can you turn around?” I asked, my voice trembling.
There was no reply.
I glanced over my shoulder, terrified to look at the man. Perhaps because he wasn’t a man, but a beast in a man’s skin. Or a demon only pretending to be human. Whatever he was, it couldn’t be the image perceived by my eyes. That image was of a guy, flesh and bone, so beautiful that I wanted to weep at his feet.
Santiago stood watching me with a feral, dark gaze, leaning against the door, arms crossed against his broad chest.
A deep, dark shiver quaked through me. “Who are you?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “I am your boyfriend. Says so right on Facebook. Now, dress.”
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to strip off my clothes in front of this terrifying stranger, especially given that I had nothing on under my jeans and sweatshirt.
I stepped over to the bed and slipped in with my clothes still on. I looked up at Santiago—if that was even this guy’s name—and waited for whatever he’d do to me.
He smiled in a displeased sort of way. “You’re not used to anyone telling you what to do, but you’ll learn.” He turned and reached for the door. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“Who are you?” This time, I demanded. Where had the courage to speak to him like that come from?
He stilled and slowly looked at me, his espresso eyes filled with a lethal tinge. “Lesson numero uno , Dakota: Don’t ask that question again. Ever.”
“But I picked your picture off the Internet. Who—”
He gave me a look that indicated he might hurt someone—me—if I said another word. “I’m going to say this one more time, Dakota. Just once.” He held up his index finger. “Stop asking questions. This isn’t a joke. Unless you consider death a joke. I. Am. Your. Boyfriend.”
He left the room, but his menacing vibe stuck to my skin like campfire smoke sticks to your clothes and hair.
Death ? Had he just threatened to kill me?
I pulled the covers up under my chin, trying not to break down while I thought through options. I could call the police, but given that everyone believed this guy was my boyfriend, I’d only look like a nut farmer. I could call Mandy and have her take me to her house where I could hide out, but I suspected Santiago would only find me and drag me back. Or I could wait until my mother returned and talk to her. Yes, she’d know what to do. I had to believe I could trust her despite her anger.
The doctor, an older, lanky man with silver hair, entered the room and interrupted my plotting. Santiago stood next to the door, watching me with those penetrating eyes, as if warning me not to make a scene.
“How’s the headache?” the doctor asked, flashing his penlight in my right eye.
I nodded quickly. “Fine. Good. It’s good. Maybe just a little dizzy.” Okay. I was a lot dizzy, but I wanted to get out of there.
The doctor pulled out my chart from a slot at the foot of the bed. “Well, it looks like you had a reaction to the medication we gave you. But your blood pressure is normal and fever is under a hundred and one. You should be released later today.”
“What time?” I asked.
“Not
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