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Authors: Tara Sue Me

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“Sure you were.”

“She went back to sleep.”

Felicia walked to the bed and took Abby’s other hand. “She’s okay, then?”

And for that moment, whatever our differences, whatever our personal lives, Felicia and I were united.

“She’ll be fine.”

An hour later, we all sat inside Abby’s room. Linda and Felicia chatted by the door. Elaina and I stayed by Abby’s bed.

“I have Abby’s necklace,” Elaina said in a matter-of-fact voice. “It’s in my purse.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You can give it to me later.”

Did Elaina know? Did she know it was more than a simple necklace? Did I care?

No.

“Just wanted you to know.” She fingered a loose thread on the sheet. “She wears it a lot, so I know it’s important to her.”

I nodded, unable to think about the collar. I just wanted Abby to wake up again.

We all looked to the door when a hospital employee entered the room with a tray.

“Wait a minute,” I said, after he set the tray down. I lifted the lid. “What is this?”

“Chicken broth.”

“This isn’t chicken broth.” I lifted the spoon and let the liquid dribble back into the bowl. “This is water with salt and
pepper thrown in.” I put the lid back down and handed him the tray. “I wouldn’t feed this to my dog.”

“I just deliver,” he said, not fazed by my words. “I’m not taking it back.”

“Then I’ll take it back,” I said.

Elaina giggled. Felicia rolled her eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” I said, walking out the door.

Someone, probably Linda, had alerted the kitchen staff to my arrival.

“You’re not cooking here,” a chef said, arms crossed, standing in front of his stove as if guarding a fortune.

I held up the tray. “I’m not letting her drink this.”

“An impasse.”

“No. I talk and you cook.” The chef sighed, but I continued. “First take two pieces of chicken, with the meat still on the
bone . . .”

I heard the difference as I neared Abby’s room. Voices. Excited voices. But more important—Abby’s voice.

She was awake!

“Did Sleeping Beauty wake up?” I said with a smile as I entered the room. I set the tray down and pushed it over to her. “You
should see what they call food in this place. They serve chicken broth out of a
can
.”

“Did you make this?”

“No. They wouldn’t let me. But I dictated.”

She smiled. I swore that smile could light up the heavens.

I looked to Linda. “Did you tell her?” We had decided while Abby was out that she would spend the weekend with me, while everyone
went to Philadelphia. Felicia had fussed for a bit, but finally agreed.

Linda shook her head. “No. She just woke up. Come on, Elaina. Let’s get something to eat. Felicia, would you like to come?”

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

I went to work setting up the tray, getting Abby’s spoon and napkin ready, adjusting the bed, making sure she was upright
enough. “Eat.”

“Damn, Nathaniel,” Felicia said. “She’s not a dog.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I know that.”

“Do you?”

Did I treat Abby like a dog? What had I ever done to deserve such criticism?

“Felicia,” Abby said.

Felicia glared at me once more and stomped out the door. Jackson was going to have his hands full with that one, but I was
glad Abby had such a caring friend.

“I’m sorry about that. Felicia is . . .” Abby sighed. “Felicia.”

I sat on the edge of her bed, wanting to be near her. Needing to be near her. “Don’t apologize. She cares for you and is looking
out for your best interests. There’s not a thing wrong with that.” I pointed to the bowl. “You do need to eat.”

She took a sip. “This is good.”

“Thank you.”

I sat and watched her. Enjoyed the sight of her awake. Alive. Moving. Breathing.

Being Abby.

“Elaina has my collar.”

Okay, it wasn’t enough to be near her. I needed to touch her. “I know. She told me. We’ll get it later.”

I made lazy circles on her leg, then stroked from her ankle up to her knee. Touching her. Reassuring myself she was fine,
that she was alive.

“What did you mean earlier—had they told me?” she asked. “Told me what?”

“About the weekend.” I looked into her eyes—they were intelligent and alert. “Tomorrow, Felicia and everyone will head on
to Philly as planned. But since you shouldn’t be alone this weekend, you’ll stay with me.”

“I’m sorry. You’ll miss Jackson’s game because of me.”

Like I cared about Jackson’s game with her in the hospital.

“Do you know how many times I’ve watched Jackson play football?” I asked.

“But this is the play-offs.”

“And I’ve seen him in the play-offs too many times to count. I don’t mind missing this one. We can watch it on TV.” I smiled.
She didn’t know about my surprise. “But I am disappointed you’ll miss it.”

“Me?” She looked endearingly confused.

“You and I were going to take my jet to Philly tomorrow evening. Spend the weekend in the city. Watch the game on Sunday.”
I patted her leg, still not wanting to stop touching her. “Now we’ll have to make do with the couch and takeout.”

Still the confused look.

“Don’t worry,” I said, laughing inwardly. “If they pull this off, there’s always the Super Bowl.”

She started eating again. I thought back to her comments earlier about the yoga and jogging and suddenly I wanted to make
myself clear.

“And, Abigail. All you’re going to do this weekend is rest.”

Chapter Fourteen

She finished eating and pushed her tray away from the bed. “Is there a mirror around here?”

“I don’t know,” I said. She wanted to see herself. Was that a good idea? Should I let her? I thought she was beautiful, but
what would she think? “I don’t think . . .”

She ran a finger over her cheek and winced. “Is it bad? Do I look that awful?”

I stood up and walked to the sink. Felicia would get her a mirror if I didn’t. I found a small mirror and handed it to her,
watched as she examined herself.


Poor kid was stuck in that car for the better part of three hours, just watching and listening to his parents die.” The voices
were low and soft. They didn’t know I was listening. Didn’t know I was awake. “Makes you wonder how something like that will
affect him
.”

“Ugh,” Abby said. “I’m going to have a black eye. It’ll look like I’ve been beaten.”


Makes you think it might have been better if he
—”

Where am I? Are Mommy and Daddy here?


Wait, look. I think he’s awake
.”

“What is this? What happened?” Abby asked.

I looked over to her. She lightly touched her bandage.

“Head wound,” I said. “There was blood everywhere. It
wouldn’t stop and they weren’t trying. They were too concerned with whether you had a broken neck or internal bleeding.”

They were lifting Mommy and Daddy from the car. Why were they covered in red? Was all that blood?


Head wounds bleed a lot. I remember
.”


Get the boy! Get him out of here!

Abby said something, but I missed it.

“What?” I asked.

“My bleeding. It stopped.”

Yes, for Abby the bleeding stopped. She was okay. She was alive and she was with me.

“Yes. Once they decided you hadn’t broken your neck, they bandaged your head.” I took her tray. “Let me put this outside.”

Linda stood at the nurse’s station, talking with Abby’s nurse.

I put the tray down and walked toward her. “She’s doing well. She ate all the broth.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Are you going to stay here tonight?”

Where else would I go? “I was planning on it.”

“I’ll round you up some scrubs. They’ll be more comfortable than that suit.”

“Right.” I’d forgotten I still had my suit on. “How long will she be here?”

“Anxious to get her to your house?”

“Do you know how many people die of hospital-acquired infections each year?”

She set down the papers she’d been looking over. “As a matter of fact, I do. But Abby’s extremely healthy. She’s not going
to die of a nosocomial infection.”

“I can feed her properly when she’s at my house.”

“Take it easy on my kitchen staff. It’s hard to find good help.”

“How about you go find those scrubs?” I growled.

“It’s all going to be fine. Just wait and see.”

I wished, not for the first time, that I shared Linda’s optimism.

Elaina and Felicia returned not long after. I moved from my place at Abby’s bedside to allow Felicia to sit next to her.

“Did you eat, Abby?” Felicia asked.


Mmm
.” Abby nodded. “Best chicken broth ever.”

Elaina tapped me on the arm. “Come outside for a minute.”

We walked outside, and the door closed softly behind us.

“I have to leave, but I wanted to give you this.” She took out her purse and handed me Abby’s collar. “I’ll let you give it
back to her.”

And in that minute, I was certain Elaina knew. “Thank you.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow with some clothes for her.” She kissed my cheek. “Are you staying here tonight?”

“Yes.”

She laughed. “Good luck with that. So is Felicia.”

I groaned. Of course Felicia would be staying.

Felicia stood by the bed talking with Abby when I reentered the room. I watched as she squeezed Abby’s hand and whispered
in her ear.

I walked over and stroked Abby’s cheek. “I’ll stay tonight.”

Felicia huffed.

“Do you have a problem?” I asked.

“I’m staying with Abby tonight.”

“Really?” I countered. “So am I.”

She waved to the large bag in the corner of the room. “I already brought an overnight bag with a change of clothes and a toothbrush.”

She was fighting with me. Again. In front of Abby. Fortunately, I didn’t care this time. “Linda’s bringing me a set of scrubs.”

“I think that’s improper use of hospital equipment.” She pointed at me. “Maybe I’ll report it to the board.”

She was fighting
and
threatening me. Or, at least, trying to threaten me.

“Linda’s
on
the board,” I said.

A nurse entered the room to check Abby’s vitals again, pointedly stepping around us as Felicia sank defiantly into the recliner
by the bed.

“We’ll both stay.” I could spend one night in a room with Felicia. It wouldn’t kill me.

“Sorry, Mr. West,” the nurse said. “Only one visitor in the room overnight. It’s a rule.”

A rule. I couldn’t very well go against hospital rules. Not after punishing Abby for not following mine.

“I see.” I glanced at Abby, and her face was flushed. “Felicia, you can stay.” I walked to Abby’s bed. “I’d better leave before
they call security. I’ll see you first thing in the morning.” I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Sleep well.”

By ten o’clock, everyone had left the hospital except staff and overnight visitors. Abby’s night nurse was a short, stocky
woman with friendly eyes and a warm smile. When I saw her pass the door of the waiting room, I took my scrubs and followed
her.

She stayed in Abby’s room for about five minutes. The door was slightly ajar and I peeked inside. A groggy Abby lifted her
arm for the nurse to take vitals. Felicia sat huddled on the reclining chair in the corner. Our eyes met briefly.

I stopped the nurse when she left Abby’s room.

“Is she okay?” I asked, blocking the hall.

“You’re Nathaniel West. Nice to meet you.”

“Yes, sorry.” I held my hand out. “It’s just . . . I’m worried.”

“Abby’s fine. I bet she’ll go home tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I said.

She winked. “I’ll check on her again soon.”

As the nurse walked away, Felicia opened the door. “Visiting hours are over.”

“I’m not visiting.” I pointed to the waiting room. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re staying here all night?”

“Here in the hallway? No. Here in the hospital? Yes.” I held up my scrubs. “I was just getting ready to change into my board-approved
scrubs.”

“Fine. Just make sure you don’t bother Abby tonight. She needs her rest.”

“Hell, Felicia, do you think I’m going to bust into her room and have my wicked way with her? Force myself on a woman who’s
been unconscious for the better part of the afternoon?” I took a step closer to her. “Is that what you think of me? That I
care only for myself? My needs? I hold her above all. Do you understand? Whenever we’re together, Abigail is at the forefront
of my mind. What she wants. What she needs.”

For the first time, I felt a change in Felicia. Nothing major. I knew she still didn’t like me, or what Abby and I did, but
maybe, just maybe, I was changing her view of me. I wondered why the thought made me happy.

She lifted her nose. “I don’t believe you.”

“I didn’t expect you to.”

I didn’t sleep well that night. The waiting room couch didn’t fit my frame, and the blankets Linda had found for me were scratchy.
But, of course, the real reason was three doors down the hall.

Abby.

I could no longer think of her as Abigail. Not after today. Not after almost losing her.

Abby’s nurse walked down the hall, and I got up from the couch to follow. Once more, Abby was half asleep and Felicia sat
huddled on the recliner.

The four of us replayed the scene several times during the night. By six forty-five, the nurse was preparing for a shift change
and Felicia dozed uneasily. I walked down to the kitchen to see to Abby’s breakfast.

“Not you again,” the chef said when I walked into the kitchen.

“I came to oversee breakfast.”

“Breakfast today is turkey sausage, scrambled eggs, or waffles.”

“Ham and cheese omelet,” I said. “Real eggs, freshly shredded cheese, and that ham over there.” I pointed to the large ham
I’d noticed when I entered the kitchen.

“That’s for lunch.”

“And a small slice or two can be used for breakfast.”

He sighed. “If I make the omelet, will you promise to order lunch from a nearby restaurant?”

“And miss our little chats?”

“Lunch from a nearby restaurant and I make an omelet so light and fluffy, you’ll cry.” He picked up a carton of eggs. “Your
call.”

I was a smart enough businessman to know a good deal when presented with one. “I accept. Lunch from a nearby restaurant.”

Fifteen minutes later, I walked toward Abby’s room carrying the tray. Her other breakfast was about to be delivered.

“Here.” I shoved the tray into the employee’s hands. “She gets this one instead.”

He looked at the tray, but didn’t question me.

“Breakfast time,” I said, entering the room and preparing Abby’s table. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes, bruises
more pronounced. I couldn’t wait to get her out of here. “Ham and cheese omelet this morning.”

“I’ve got to run, Abby.” Felicia kissed Abby’s cheek, completely ignoring me. “I still have to pack. You take it easy. I’ll
call you when I can.” She spun around and stared at me. “Hurt her and I cut off your dick and feed it to you for
your
breakfast.”

“Felicia Kelly!” Abby chided.

I actually found Felicia’s outburst amusing.

“Sorry,” Felicia said, but I knew she wasn’t. “It just came out.” She pointed to me. “But I mean it.”

Felicia picked up her bag and left the room.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” Abby said.

I sat down next to her, pleased to have her to myself. “She was pretty upset yesterday. She just doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Are you going to tell me what you two argued about?”

“No.”

She took a bite of omelet. “Are other hospital patients eating ham and cheese omelets for breakfast?”

“I find myself rather unconcerned with what other hospital patients are eating for breakfast.” I found myself unconcerned
with anything besides the fact that Abby was safe.

While Abby went down for what I hoped was her final CAT scan, Elaina dropped by with some clothes.

“Going home today?” she asked.

“That’s the current plan.”

“We’ll miss you in Philly.”

“Maybe we’ll get together in Tampa.”

She hugged me, pulling me tight to her chest. “Take care of Abby.”

“Make sure Felicia doesn’t call all the time. I want Abby to rest.”

We left a little before eleven o’clock. When the hospital insisted on taking Abby out the door in a wheelchair, her protests
fell on deaf ears. I went to the parking lot to retrieve my car and pulled it around to meet her. I hopped out to ensure she
made it into the car comfortably and adjusted the seat so she leaned back more than normal.

“What happened to the cabdriver?” she asked as I pulled onto the street.

I’d known she’d ask about him at some point, so I’d called and spoken to Linda earlier. I’d also made a few other decisions.

“Minor scratches. He was released yesterday. I don’t like cabs. I’m buying you a car.”

“What? No.”

No? Had Abby just disagreed with me? Did she finally feel comfortable enough to actually talk to me?

“What’s wrong with me getting you a car?”

“It feels wrong.” She sniffled, and I looked over to her. Were her eyes wet? Damn.

“Are you crying?” I asked.

“No,” she said, but the sniffle gave her away. She was crying over a car? Really?

“You’re crying. Why?”

“I don’t want you to get me a car.”

I started to protest, but she spoke again. “It’d make me feel . . .”

“Make you feel what?”

“Make me feel dirty, like a whore.”

I clutched the steering wheel tightly to keep the car on the road. A whore? She felt like a whore?

“Is that what you think you are?” Good God. What had I done to her?

“No,” she finally said. “But I’m a librarian. You’re . . . you’re one of the wealthiest men in New York. How would it look?”

I forced myself to remain calm, to resist the urge to call Felicia and have her cancel the Philly trip, to ask her to take
Abby home. Abby was not a whore. I’d break our relationship off immediately to ensure she never felt like one.

“Abigail.” There, I could talk. I even sounded reasonable. “You
should have thought about how things would look long before now. You wear my collar every day.”

“That’s different.”

I shook my head. “It’s the same. My responsibility is to take care of you.” How was it she didn’t know that?

“By buying me a car?”

If need be. “By making sure your needs are met.”

It was what I told Felicia in the hospital—it was my most important responsibility. Didn’t Abby understand that?

She didn’t argue any more. After a while, she closed her eyes, but I knew she wasn’t asleep. Still, the silence gave me time
to think. Somehow, her accident had made her more comfortable talking to me. The Abby who showed up at my office weeks ago
would not have argued over a car. I was pleased she felt more comfortable around me.

I didn’t understand her refusal, though. I was her dom and I had the means to help her. Why shouldn’t I?

Because it would look like I was paying her for sex. Like she was a whore.

I stifled a groan.

Did she feel cheap because of what we did? She had never been in a relationship like ours before. It was new to her. I thought
back to our kitchen table conversations—she’d never quite opened up to me.

If I could only ensure she felt comfortable sharing her mind with me as well as her body . . .

We pulled up to my house, and once I stopped the car, I got out and opened her door. “The car conversation is not finished,
but you need to get inside and rest. We’ll talk later.”

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