Wounded Birds (The Grayson Series Book 1) (6 page)

I whimper from the intense pain as little jackhammers pound away at my skull and stars begin to circle around my head. I feel staggered and confused. For a split second, I didn’t know what hit me.

With care, he lays me on the bed. “Oh, shit, Ariana, you have some bump on your head,” he growls out and sprints toward the kitchen, rushing back with an ice pack from my freezer.

“Jesus, Ariana, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone,” he says scowling and sits beside me. His features attentive as he places the ice pack above my right temple causing me to flinch from the pain.

“Damn, Ariana, you may have a concussion. I guess you’ll be paying a visit to the emergency room after all,” he says with a sarcastic tone.

“I’m not going,” I protest sounding childish.

He glares at me with an irritated expression. “The hell you aren’t,” he snaps. “I refuse to discuss this with you any further until Josh gets here. No sense in arguing.” He reapplies the ice pack over the temple with tenderness. “How do you feel?” His eyes are intense, filled with worry.

“Pain,” I sigh out.

“I’ll let Josh survey the damage and let him be the deciding factor on whether or not you should pay a visit to the hospital,” he says with a frown, shaking his head.

He stares at the fragments of the vases. “Here, hold this to your head,” he orders, rushing out, and soon he is back picking up the shattered mess with a brush and dustpan and places the books back on the bureau. I’m impressed he knew where to find them.

The bell chimes alerting us to a visitor and I hear the whoosh of the elevator doors as they open and close. “Your brother is here,” I inform him, hearing his footsteps across the marble floor.

“Michael, are you here?” Josh calls out.

Michael responds directing him to the bedroom.

Josh rushes in wearing blue scrubs. He has the same built as Michael, with matching hair, except Josh appears to be an inch or two shorter with blue eyes.

“Thanks for coming. I hope you weren’t on your way to the hospital,” Michael asks, pointing at Josh’s attire, and they hug one another. “Josh, this is Ariana DiMarco, Ariana this is my brother Josh,” Michael introduces.

“Nice to meet you Josh, I’m so sorry that Michael had you rush over. I appreciate you taking the time to come,” I say graciously with a smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Ariana, and it wasn’t out of my way. I’m always happy to help,” he says with warmth and then he turns to Michael.

“I just finished seeing my last patient, so what happened?” Josh questions with a worried look on his face, and for a split second, his expression resembles Michael’s.

“She fell moments ago, hitting her head on God knows what. She may have a concussion, and the stubborn woman is refusing to go to the hospital. I have a good mind to tie her up and bring her there myself. Nevertheless, this isn’t the reason why I had you rush over. She received truffles from a demented fu— admirer,” he rushes out, attempting to control his flamboyant language. “She consumed about eleven of them,” he huffs out and starts pacing around my bedroom.

Josh places his bag on the end of the bed. “I’ll examine her and take a sample of her saliva. Can you give me more details?” Josh inquires with a sweet, angelic voice.

Michael gives him a quick rundown of the e-mails, truffles, the note, and my heartwarming phone call at the restaurant.

Josh is nodding his head as Michael goes into specifics. He gives me an empathetic smile.

The elevator door chimes again.

“Michael, Trent, is here,” I murmur and for a brief moment the room begins to spin and my vision blurs. Whoa, this stuff is strong. I should be scared for my life, rushing to the hospital to find out what the hell were in those bite size chocolates. Instead, I lie here like I’ve had one too many glasses of wine and a desperate need of a long nap.

“Trent is here?” Josh asks.

“Yes, I want him to track this bastard down,” he hisses out, letting out a loud sigh.

“Michael, I’ll exam her while you go speak with Trent,” Josh says, shaking his head with a frown.

“Fine.” He nods and rushes out. I stare at his beautiful back, wide like a linebacker running out onto the field. Yummy. Ahhh! God, he brings out a side of me I’ve never seen.

Josh reaches into his bag and pulls out a stethoscope, a pressure cuff, and a small flashlight.

“Would you mind if I examine you?” His voice is smoother and more composed than Michael’s. This is why he’s a doctor and not Mr. Bulldozer. Josh may have similar features to Michael, but his personality is milder, gentler, and he’s more soft-spoken with a warm bedside manner, yet he has a powerful aura about him.

“Not at all,” I answer.

Josh flips the switch on the flashlight, and I flinch from the sting as he examines my eyes.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. His eyes are warm and amiable.

He takes my blood pressure. He assesses my breathing and places the cold stethoscope against my chest, making me wince.

“Can you sit up, please?” He asks with compassion.

I let out a loud gasp as I sit up and sway toward the edge of the bed. Josh takes hold of my shoulders with gentle hands to steady me.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers.

I freeze when he lifts the back of my top and places the icy instrument over my warm skin. I grow tense praying he won’t question me. If I were in my right mind, I would have protested, but I’m drained, weary, and tired. His facial expression changes from impassive to alarming.

I gaze into his eyes and smile. “Patient-doctor confidentiality,” I murmur.

He exhales a long breath and frowns. Then he nods in agreement.

I’m grateful for his discretion. The thick permanent scars on my back aren’t something I want to disclose to anyone. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“You’re welcome. Have you discussed this with doctor?” He asks with genuine sincerity.

“No, and what you saw doesn’t leave this room. Understand?”

He nods. “Yes, of course.” He felt my head, neck, and shoulders. “Does it hurt anywhere else besides the nice size bump you have on your head?” He asks.

“No,” I answer.

“Did you experience any vomiting, dizziness or confusion?”

“I became light-headed, with some confusion after I hit my head, which didn’t last long.”

He frowns, eyes filled with concern, and pulls out a pen. “Just follow the pen,” he instructs. He lets out a long sigh.

“Did you have any form of alcohol?”

“Yes, a large glass of red wine? Is everything ok?” I ask.

“I’m concerned you may have a slight concussion, but we will discuss that later, right now I want to analyze your saliva.” He places the pen back in his pocket. “I’m going to pull out a test cassette and wipe the tip inside your mouth to collect some salvia. This will check the type of drug you ingested. May I?” He asks.

I nod.

Josh pulls out a clear blue tube with something resembling a cotton swab and swipes the inside of my mouth several times. He waits until the end part of the cylinder turns blue and caps the top.

“Now, about the fall you had,” he starts to say.

“Am I going to need an x-ray?” I ask.

With an empathic expression, he nods. “I would feel comfortable if you did,” he says with a meaningful look.

“Well, I’m not going to the hospital, so I suggest you think of another alternative.”

“Okay.” He chuckles, sounding carefree

Chapter 5

The Results

I start when I hear the sound of Michael’s footsteps echo from the library. I give Josh a warning glance. Josh smiles with understanding.

He walks into the room with a mystique air to him. His persona vibrates as this rough, strong and sensitive, yet silent, take-charge man. He has his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his bow tie is undone, along with the top, two buttons of his shirt. His hair all disheveled. He seems unhinged.

“How is she?” He asks anxiety seeping through his voice.

Michael’s softheartedness continues to touch me.

Josh faces me and winks. We have an understanding. “Michael, her breathing is normal, and her blood pressure is on the low side, but right now I’d like to get the sample analyzed.

“I’m concerned she may have a slight concussion, and since she doesn’t want to go for x-rays, I suggest someone stay with her for a night or two as a precaution. It’s difficult to tell how hard she hit her head. Signs and symptoms may not appear until hours and days after the injury. If she experiences any nausea, blurred vision, or severe headache, she needs to be brought into the emergency room immediately,” he says focusing his attention on me.

“Ariana, I want you to get plenty of rest and for pain, take two acetaminophen. Do not take ibuprofen or aspirin,” Josh explains everything with a firm tone to his voice.

“I’ll spend the two nights with her,” Michael says, volunteering his services.

“No, no. You’re not spending the night here,” I object, overthrown by his kind gesture, yet not comfortable with his wanting to spend the night.

“Why the hell not?” Michael retorts, causing the tension in the room to thicken.

“Will you be comfortable if we get a nurse to stay with you, Ariana?” Josh asks, playing the mediator. “You said you didn’t want to go to the hospital, but you’d put me at ease if you weren’t alone. Would you do that for me?” He asks, speaking like an archangel. How can I refuse?

“Why can’t I stay here?” Before Michael can finish, Josh interrupts him.

“I don’t want to waste time. I took a sample of Ariana’s saliva,” Josh says as he places everything back in his medical bag. “Is there somewhere I can conduct the test?”

Michael lets out a frustrated breath, threading his fingers through his hair.

“Yes, of course, follow me. We can go into the kitchen.” He turns to me. “I’ll be back, Ariana. Call me if you need help getting up. Don’t you dare attempt to stand up on your own,” he warns with an eyebrow lifted and a finger pointing at me.

I smirk and shrug. I blow out a long-awaited breath, feeling the throbbing pain in my head. Josh follows Michael out, heading toward the living room.

“Where’s Trent?” Josh asks.

“He’s out on the terrace, talking on his phone.”

***

Several minutes tick by, and there is no sign of the men. I decide to sneak up on the guys. With slow movements, I sit up and slide off the bed. I wobble toward the library and manage to get my balance under control and tiptoe into the living room.

I hide behind a threefold canvas divider with a picture of Venice, Italy. I peek from behind and observe the men, listening to them converse.

Josh places a large case on the counter, draws out an unusual machine, and pulls out the swab he used to scrape my inner cheek.

“This baby is the Dräger Drug Tester 5000 Analyzer,” he says with pride. “The analyzer is used to conduct random drug test on employees. I’m going to have it analyze Ariana’s saliva.”

I’m startled by the sounds of footsteps from the terrace. I gasp as I gape at a tall man in a beige sports coat wearing a pair of black jeans and T-shirt. This must be Trent. He might be the youngest of the three, but damn, he’s built larger and taller than the other two. His hair is a golden blond, and he has big green cat-like eyes and long, thick lashes.

“Thanks again for coming so fast,” Michael comments to Trent.

“No problem.” Trent gives Michael a pat on the back.

“Hey, Trent, great seeing you,” Josh says with an enormous grin over his face.

“Same here. What are you doing?” Trent asks with curiosity, inspecting the machine.

“I’m testing Ariana’s saliva.”

I jump as the machine beeps, printing out a piece of paper. I stare at Josh with intensity as he runs his fingers through his hair. Do they all do that?

“Well, what’s the verdict Josh,” Michael asks as he paces the room with a nervous edge to him.

“The results came back with minimal traces of Xanax. She’ll feel tired, but Ariana will be fine.” Josh explains.

So that’s what he tainted the chocolates with that bastard. I fold my arms across my chest. I jump as the divider collapses on the floor, producing an earsplitting crack that echoes throughout the apartment.

“Shit! Not a smooth move,” I mutter to myself, and when I look up, my jaw drops as I watch all three men spin on their heels, alert and ready to attack. I go numb and feel the blood drain from my face and not because of their shocking faces. I’m staring at Trent, who is holding up a gun with a steady hand pointed at me. I freak out and let out a loud scream. “Jesus Christ, don’t shoot,” I squeal out as my knees buckle, and I crumble alongside the divider.

“Damn you, Trent. Put the gun away,” Michael yells and rushes to my side.

The huge gulp of air I sucked in is caught, and I can’t breathe. Everything is a blur. I’m on my hands and knees and my body chooses to go Jell-O on me as I struggle to get my sorry butt off the floor. I think my whole life just flashed before me. What did I get myself into?

Michael grasps me by the arms, his warm hands penetrating into my flesh. I stare at his black shoes and follow the path of his long, muscular legs to his face, and our eyes meet, and a tingling sensation washes over me.

“Now, do you think you can stand on your own?” He asks, and his facial expression changes from concerned to disturbed. The realization hits him. I was instructed to call him if I needed help getting out of bed. I didn’t follow orders from the commander-in-chief. I ease my way up to a standing position, and I salute him.

“Don’t be a smart-ass, Ariana. What the hell were you doing behind the partition? You’re supposed to be resting,” He exclaims with a dark expression shadowing his face as he picks up the divider.

“I wanted to know what was going on and to be honest; I don’t want you gentlemen involved.” I glance at his brothers with regret and worry about their welfare. How can I live with myself if something goes wrong and they get injured or worse? I can’t even think of the latter.

“Too late,” he scolds, his voice raised and eyes cold and hard.

I can feel the heat surging just beneath my skin. I am beyond furious, not only at him but also at myself for allowing this man to bully me. If I had the energy, I would choke this arrogant, overconfident, pompous ass. Hands on hips, I glower at Michael with lips pressed in a hard line and narrow eyes.

Michael frowns, his expression overwrought with mixed emotions—worry, concern, and panic—but I don’t care.

Both Trent and Josh back away as I approach their brother, glaring at him. I’m sorry Michael dragged them into this mess, and I’m wondering if that thought ever crossed their minds, or maybe not. They’re probably cut out of the same cloth. Bossy, egotistical asses.

I let out a long breath, feeling fatigued from the wine and drug. The raw rage that was coursing through me has vanished. All I want to do now is settle beneath the covers of my bed and sleep. “We’ll. Discuss. This. Tomorrow. I’m too tired to argue,” I say through gritted teeth, poking him in the chest, my eyes growing wider with anger.

He breathes a sigh of relief, and a few whistles reverberate in the background. “Let me help you to bed. I’ll check in on you after I speak to my brothers.”

“Michael,
I can take myself
. I’ll call you in the morning,” I huff out.

Michael gapes at me with a befuddled look on his face. “Ariana, I’m not leaving you by yourself. I’ll sleep in the guestroom. I promise to be a perfect gentleman.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“
You are going home
, Michael. I appreciate all you’ve done for me.” I hold my head to ease the pain and take a deep breath to calm my temper. I knew he was going to be a handful. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been such an angel,” I say with a genuine smile.

He stares at me, bemused, speechless as if no one has ever called him an angel.

Josh and Trent chuckle, making sly remarks, smirking at Michael.

“Angel?” Trent asks, both his eyebrows lifted as he looks at Michael.

“Michael?” Josh queries and they both erupt into fits of laughter.

“You must be mistaking Michael for someone else,” Trent chirps in.

“Shut the hell up,” Michael shouts, glaring at his brothers over his shoulder.

He turns back with smiling eyes. “Angel,” he whispers, brushing his fingers across my cheeks. The sweet sting of his touch warms my inner soul, making my heart pitter-patter. “That’s a first. I’ve never been called an angel before,” he says proudly. “I know I can be a bit overbearing at times,” he says.

“A bit,” I answer with a sarcastic tone, and his brothers snicker.

He holds his hands up. “Okay, maybe that was an understatement. I guess my natural instincts as a man to protect you took over.” He shrugs, and his face softens. “I phoned for a nurse earlier. I’ll call them for confirmation.”

He walks over to the sofa and retrieves his cell phone from his jacket and taps it a few times. “This is Michael Grayson. I’m calling to confirm the nurse I hired to care for Miss Ariana DiMarco for this evening . . . yes . . . at nine . . . and her name? Tina O’Conner . . . Thank you.” He ends the call, shoves his phone into his pants pocket and rubs the back of his neck.

I glance at the time, and the damn numbers won’t stay still. I laugh at myself. I’m besotted, not only from the drug and wine but from the man standing before me.

Trent approaches us. He’s the biggest of the three. His physique is almost double the size of Michael and Josh. Okay, so I’m exaggerating a bit, but the man is big and husky with a lot of muscle.

“Miss DiMarco, my name is Trent. I’m the youngest and cutest.” I have to chuckle at his comment. Trent is also self-assured.

You can’t deny it; he is blessed in the gorgeous-male department, in fact, all the Graysons’ are. Trent possesses a youthful bad-boy appearance with short, blond military-style hair that emphasizes his green eyes.

Michael and Josh cough at Trent’s comment.

“Sorry, for the interruption. They’re a tad jealous of me.” He points to his brothers. “A pleasure to meet you, Ariana. I’m a big fan. I’ve watched your show several times. I own Grayson Investigations and Security.”

I extend a hand to shake his, and he grabs me, pressing me up against his solid chest, lifting me off the ground with a fierce bear hug, deflating my lungs. “A pleasure . . . to meet you as well,” I manage to spill out, panting for breath.

“Trent, enough! She can’t breathe for God’s sake,” Michael scolds.

Trent places me down, and I take an invigorating breath of air into my poor lungs. Sweet Jesus is he strong.

“Trent, Josh, thank you both for coming out. I appreciate all your help. Now, if you gentlemen don’t mind, I’m a bit tired and I’d like to get to bed.”

“We understand. It was a pleasure meeting you Ariana. I’m relieved it wasn’t a life and death situation. Be careful,” Josh says with a smile.

“The same applies here,” Trent says and gives me another big hug and kisses me on the cheek.

“I’ll walk you to your room,” Michael offers as I head in that direction. Michael startles me in the library as he lifts me up off the floor. I wrap my arms around his neck afraid that I might fall. He kicks the doors open with his foot and lays me on the bed, but I can’t release the hold around his neck.

“Ariana … sweetheart, this is only going to work if you let go of me.” He grins, his eyes soft, sparkling with speckles of turquoise in his green eyes.

I ease my arms away from his thick neck. A chuckle rumbles through his chest. He pulls the duvet over me, making me all warm, snug, and cozy. He turns down the bedside table lamp to low. He leans over to tuck me in. He examines the bump on my head, and I flinch from the pain.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he murmurs. I shake my head and gaze into those eyes, getting lost for endless miles. God, he’s breathtaking. I start when Michael says something, interrupting my fantasy.

“Ariana, I need a few words with my brothers before I chase them out. The nurse will be staying here with you for the next two evenings. I’ll head back home after she arrives. I’ll swing by sometime tomorrow night. I have several meetings scheduled, but I’ll be calling periodically to check in on you.”

“I don’t need a baby-sitter.” I exhale out, all flustered and angry with Michael and his authoritative, commanding demeanor.

“Ariana, I’m done arguing with you. You heard what Josh said. Unless you want to pay a visit to the hospital.”