The bleeding girl buried her face in my shoulder and a good chunk of her hair settled right under my nose, bringing with it the smell of strawberries and vanilla.
She was muttering something that sounded like, "Oh, my God, oh, my God" and I got the feeling she wouldn't mind if the ground suddenly opened up and swallowed her whole.
Ignoring her in favour of concentrating hard on not dropping her and keeling over in pain myself, I followed the nurse through the double doors and almost sighed in relief when she pointed to the nearest available booth on the right.
I placed the girl on the bed and bit back a groan when every pain in my body intensified before receding slowly. This was what I got for trying to play hero. Next time I'd do well to just mind my own business; it'd be much less painful that way.
Stepping away, I caught the dismayed look on her face and the way her body was shaking slightly. She glanced up at me for a split second, then quickly averted her gaze, looking down at her hands in what could only be described as shame.
"I'm sorry," she muttered.
I blinked, pretty sure the blood loss had affected her to the point where she was now rambling like an idiot.
"What?" I asked, on the off chance I'd misheard and she hadn't just apologised to me for God knows what.
"You're injured, and you had to carry me in here."
I scowled at the reminder, anger working its way into my chest to settle over me like a hot, heavy blanket.
"No. I'm fine," I lied, aware my voice was a tad harsher than I meant it to be.
But I couldn't help it, and I couldn't quite bring myself to care enough to offer an apology of my own. On top of being injured, I was still tired, still hungry, and as usual when I was that exhausted, a bone deep chill had started over the back of my shoulders and was spreading fast. Add a tension headache, and I considered it a small miracle I hadn't already left her here and snarled something about hoping to never see her again.
She looked doubtful as she gave me a quick once over, and I thought she might call me on my bullshit but mercifully the curtain whipped back and a doctor - one of the few in the place I hadn't been tended by as long as I'd been coming here - strode in snapping on a pair of gloves.
Jeez, did they all do that? It seemed Dr. Hilliard did the exact same thing, and so did Dr. Farrell and Dr. Marrilyn whenever I had the displeasure of being treated by them. Huh, maybe it was the first thing they taught you at medical school, before they brought out the big guns, like say, how to save people's lives.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Hendricks."
I immediately disliked him for his chipper tone alone. It was the middle of the freaking night, nobody had a right to be that damn happy.
He examined the girl's cloth covered hand with a severe frown on his face, his dark brow drawn down and his thin lips pursed.
"Well, what do we have here?"
Right on cue, the bleeding girl offered up her pathetic lie.
"I cut myself on some glass," she mumbled, and I rolled my eyes when both of them weren't looking.
Cut herself on some glass, yeah right. Just like I slipped and fell.
It was enough to make me seethe over what might have actually happened to her. You only lied when it was something you couldn't pass off without there being major consequences for someone involved. I'd lied to save Derek's ass - again, even after I'd decided to ditch him for good.
The only plausible explanation for this girl was that she was lying to protect someone. And her initial reaction when I'd asked what had happened in the waiting room narrowed down my list of suspects to one or two. I was going to take a wild guess and say she had someone in her life who liked to push her around.
"Really?" Dr. Hendricks asked, his voice laden with scepticism.
"Yes," she said firmly, eyes narrowing slightly like she couldn't quite figure out why nobody believed her.
"Were you present?" the doctor asked, turning on me. "You're the boyfriend?"
I resisted the urge to snort derisively. If I was her boyfriend, she wouldn't have been sitting by herself in the waiting room like a docile little lamb. She would have been the first one through those doors. Fuck that, if she was my girlfriend she wouldn't be here to begin with.
"No, I wasn't," I settled on saying through clenched teeth. "And yes, my name's Tyson."
"And your name miss?"
The doctor unwrapped her hand to reveal a deep gash, one that made my own look small by comparison. Shit, that had to hurt.
"Um. Noah. Noah Duke," the girl said, looking uncertainly at her hand.
I myself was watching it avidly, all the while repeating her name in my head.
Noah. Noah Duke.
What kind of parents gave their daughter a boys name?
Though, in all honesty, she did suit it.
"Um, is this normal? The amount of blood I'm losing?" Noah asked, slightly panicked.
Dr. Hendricks examined the cut more closely, and he frowned all over again.
"Well, you do seem to have lost a bit of blood, but once we get you stitched up you should be alright. Do you feel dizzy? Nauseated?"
Standing beside the bed, trying hard to disregard the fierce ache in my leg, I tuned the two of them out in favour of wondering when I could get out of here to have a smoke. Now that I'd admitted I was her boyfriend I couldn't very well just leave without her.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
To distract myself from how badly I needed one, I ran my gaze over the tiny medical booth and curled my lip in distaste. I'd been in this one before, a couple of months ago.
Derek had gotten himself into trouble with a guy who'd loaned him some money, and in retaliation, the guy thought it would be okay to take what he owed through damage of property. Specifically, my property. He'd smashed my car windscreen and the headlights with a baseball bat, and had been about to take out the side windows when I'd come out of my place to find him hard at work.
Enraged, I'd played his game way better than he had. I'd shattered everything not made of metal on his car, and I hadn't needed a bat to do it. At the time, it didn't occur to me that while using my booted foot was fine, putting my elbow and my fist through a window was a bad idea. That only came later when Dr. Hilliard had to pluck out all of the glass and disinfect the cuts before she stitched a couple back up. Without anaesthetic.
"Maybe you could help her relax. Offer her some calming words?"
Dr. Hendricks' words brought me back to reality and I glanced down with a peeved glare to see Noah right on the edge of the bed, trying to get as far away from the doctor with a syringe in his hand as she could without falling off. She was eyeing the needle like it was about to take her life away, not her pain away.
My first thought was to tell her to buck up, at least she was getting an anaesthetic. It was more than some of us got. My second thought was to snap at the doctor that I'd only brought her in here, it wasn't my job to coddle her and be nice. Then I remembered I was supposed to be her boyfriend, and though it had been a while since I'd had that title, I still knew what it entailed.
Taking a breath for patience, I moved closer and for lack of anything better to do, slipped my fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at me.
Okay, be nice. Be nice.
"Come on, stop being a big baby. You're going to be fine," I said in the best soothing tone I could manage.
Not half bad, I thought, until her expression grew incredulous and she opened her mouth to berate me. I thanked everyone I could think of when the doctor stabbed her in the palm with the syringe and she yelped instead.
"Ouch!"
Her hand shot out and clasped mine in a death grip, squeezing so tight I could feel it trembling. She alternated between staring at what Dr. Hendricks was doing, and glaring up at me like everything was my fault. I noticed she didn't let go of my hand.
"Right," Dr. Hendricks chirped, dropping the used syringe into a surgical waste disposal bin. "The worst part's all over now. We'll have you stitched up and out of here in a jiffy."
I must admit, the doctor made fast work of sewing Noah back up, so much so that I had the sneaking suspicion Dr. Hilliard drew out her torture process in the hopes it would deter me from coming back to her. Either way, fifteen minutes later the doctor was packing up his stuff and heading for the curtain.
A nurse bustled in and out, force feeding Noah juice and biscuits. Coming to the conclusion that I was going to be stuck here for a while, I took a seat in one of the hard backed plastic chairs at the foot of the bed just inside the curtain.
The urge to smoke was making me cranky; I hadn't had a cigarette in what felt like days, but had probably been no longer than ten hours. The room smelling like sick people and antiseptic didn't help, neither did the vomit green coloured curtains and the scuffed white floors. The place didn't need to look unclean. It felt unclean and the sooner I could leave it behind, the better.
"We're going to keep you under observation for the next few hours, just to make sure everything's okay," the nurse informed Noah, then turned to look at me with her eyebrow raised, as if asking my permission.
Oh, yeah right, because I was about to put my foot down and say hell no, we're leaving now. Not only did I not even know the girl, I wasn't about to be responsible for dragging her injured from the hospital. Knowing my luck, she'd collapse on me and die on the spot.
Could they charge you for murder if that happened? Or was it manslaughter?
"That's fine," Noah said, throwing me a cautious look. Her long wavy hair was a tangled mess and blood was spattered over her jeans and both of her arms. She was laying back on the bed with her arm cradled up high on her chest.
"I don't have anywhere to be, anyway."
Nice for some, I thought, sighing in resignation.
I pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my jeans pocket, wincing when I jostled my injured arm. Just one smoke. That was all I needed to get me through the night. Maybe the stress relief would bring with it some kind of clarity, and enlighten me as to why I'd been dumb enough to walk back into the hospital in the first place.
I glanced at Noah out of the corner of my eye. She was rubbing at blood shot eyes and biting her bottom lip, and for the first time since I'd laid eyes on her, it dawned on me that she was rather attractive in a girl-next-door kind of way - even with her horrendously unkempt hair and clothes that currently looked like they were fashion rejects from a B grade horror movie.
The nurse gave Noah more instructions, tossed her some pain killers, then disappeared through a gap in the curtains. And now was my chance. I'd slip out, smoke like a chimney for ten or so minutes, and slip back in. Wasn't like the girl was going anywhere fast.
"I'm going outside to have a smoke. I'll be back in ten," I said, already on my feet and half turned to leave.
Noah looked startled, her hazel eyes going wide and her mouth dropping open slightly.
"Um, That's okay. I've already taken up enough of your time," she mumbled, not quite looking me in the eye. Her good hand fisted in the hospital sheet and she bit her lower lip again. "You don't have to come back. I'm going to be here a while, so you should just go."
I frowned, wondering if this was some kind of test. In Girl Language, I was pretty sure that particular sentence meant I should stay with her. But then again, Girl Language only applied to girls you actually knew, didn't it? Shit, all this over thinking was doing my head in, and the bottom line was I could do whatever I wanted. I didn't owe anyone anything.
"Yeah, I should," I said, and committed myself to actually getting in my car this time and driving away. I was halfway through the curtain when she spoke again.
"Thank you for your help."
A foreign feeling fluttered about my stomach, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say I felt bad about leaving her here, and even worse for the fact that she'd just thanked me for doing nothing more than being my usual moody self.
"I'm um, sorry if I ruined your evening."
I'm sorry I couldn't make yours any better, I thought, and left before I did something really stupid like turn around and sit with her for three hours.
++++++++++
Three fucking hours.
That's how long I'd been leaning against my car trying to stave off the night chill. And still Noah hadn't walked out of those front doors. I was starting to give myself a complex, wondering if something had gone wrong since I'd last seen her like she'd developed complications from the blood loss, or had an adverse reaction to the painkillers they'd given her.
Maybe I should just go and check on her to be safe, I thought, and pushed off the side of my car with a hiss. Standing in the same position for the better part of an hour had my sore leg seizing up and my ribs protesting. My shoulder decided to join the club when I took a tentative step in the direction of the sliding doors, twinging in pain with every move I made.
The parking lot was all but deserted, a couple of dozen cars scattered about, and with mine parked so close, I hit the main doors in the blink of an eye.
Just outside the entrance I paused, wondering how on earth I would explain the fact that I'd been waiting three hours for her when the only thing I knew about her was her name. Forget being a stalker, this was classic psycho serial killer material.
God, this was a mistake. Why had I even waited this long? I had no obligation to her - she wasn't my sister, my friend, my girlfriend, or even a cousin twice removed. I'd spent half an hour with her tops, not to mention she probably had someone who would come and get her, or who might have already come along and gone inside to see her.
Cursing at my own indecision, I stepped off to the side of the doors and pulled out my battered pack of cigarettes. I'd been through half the pack already, smoking for something to do to pass the time away. One more wouldn't kill me. At least not tonight.
I'd barely put the thing in my mouth and lit it before the automatic doors opened to my left and someone exited.
To my dismay it was Noah, and she paused not five feet from where I stood, facing away from me to regard the parking lot. Unsure whether I should make my presence known or hang back until she left, I inhaled on my smoke and leaned against the wall, curious as to what she would do.
Patting her jeans pocket, she fished out a cell phone and upon glancing at the display let out a bark of sardonic laughter. I raised an eyebrow, slightly concerned at her behaviour. Then, to my utter shock, she dialled a number, waited a few seconds and growled in frustration. That wasn't the shocking part. The shocking part was the language she let fly when it was obvious whoever she'd just called hadn't picked up the phone.
Damn, they were going to have one very colourful message - if they could understand any of it. She was talking so fast it all kind of jumbled together, words like "prick" and "asshole" standing out more than most.
"You are such a useless piece of shit, Aidan, I swear to God. The worst boyfriend in the history of the universe. And in case the intelligence of this speech is over your head, I'll lay it out for you nice and clear. We are so over. Done. I'll be damned if I continue going out with a jealous Neanderthal who pushes me through a freaking window in one of his sissy fits!"
She snapped the phone shut and exhaled long and slow. And if I wasn't mistaken, there was a small smile on her face. Well, at least I'd been right about there being someone in her life who liked to push her around. Too bad I didn't feel smug about it. On the contrary, I was actually so pissed I could have hit something. Or someone, if her girl-bashing boyfriend wanted to show up.
Unaware of me standing right behind her, she flipped her phone back open to make another call.
I took another drag on my cigarette, and, feeling weird about watching her while she had no clue, cleared my throat loudly on the exhale.
She whipped around, and when she caught sight of me her mouth dropped open and her good hand came up to her chest, still clutching her phone. Looking all around her, her attention came back to me and she smiled sheepishly.
"Have you been standing there that whole time?"
I raised an eyebrow.
Translation: Did I just tell you that my piece of shit boyfriend was the reason I ended up in the ER?
"Yep," I said, using my free hand to push some of my hair off my face. The stuff kept coming loose and falling in my face, irritating me to no end.
Noah's smile fell off her face as something occurred to her.
"Were you waiting for me?"
I gave her a peeved glare, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her.
Of course not. I just love hanging around in parking lots in the middle of the night while freezing my ass off, I thought sarcastically. A guy couldn't ask for a better way to spend his nights.
Yes, I was waiting for you!
"No," I said, half afraid the truth would scare her enough that she'd call the cops on me.
Huffing in annoyance, she jammed her phone into her pocket and dug around in it for something else. When her hand came up empty she ran it through her unruly hair and cursed, shaking her head in exasperation.
"So, your boyfriend's not coming to get you?" I asked, only slightly hoping he would show up. I could go a few more rounds, banged up as I was. And I'd be more than willing to show him how a real man threw someone threw a window. I bet he'd make a great little missile.
"Ex boyfriend," Noah said, her cold tone invading my fantasy. "And no, he's not."
I nodded, taking one last drag on my smoke.
"So you need a ride then."
And where the hell had that come from? Had I really just spoken that out loud?
By the look on her face, I had, and she was regarding me with equal parts hope and suspicion. She was actually considering it, which made me wonder where anyone in her life was at the moment and what on earth they could be doing that they couldn't come and get her. It was obvious something wasn't right in her life. First phone call she'd made was to her boyfriend, not to Mommy or Daddy or a brother or sister. Either she was lacking in the family department like I was, or they didn't know she'd been up to no good tonight.
When she continued to stare at me hopefully, I sighed and pushed off the wall, and even though it was against my better judgement I said, "Come on. My car's this way."
Putting out my cigarette with the toe of my boot I didn't glance back to see if she was following me. Half of me hoped she wouldn't, the other half of me was straining with the effort of not turning to make sure she was.
The patter of light footsteps behind me cleared up any doubts as she half jogged to keep up with me.
"I thought you said you weren't waiting for me."
And yet we both know I was, or you wouldn't be asking that question.
"I wasn't."
"Then what were you doing here?" she persisted.
We came to a stop in front of my car and I fished my keys out of my pocket, releasing the locks.
"Do you always ask this many questions?" I grumbled, my headache making me squint as I got into the driver's side. Pain flared up my side when I sunk into the seat, and in trying to get comfortable, I set off the throb in my shoulder and the sting in my leg.
Great.
"Are you getting in?" I snapped, albeit a bit more nastier than I should have.
"Yeah, yeah." The passenger door opened and she slid into the seat, wincing a bit. However much pain she was in, it didn't deter her from adding, "No need to get your panties in a bunch."
I raised my eyebrows. Charming. Just charming.
She gave me her address, so willingly that it disturbed me.
For Christ's sake, didn't anyone ever teach her about stranger danger? Now I knew where she lived, what was stopping me from coming to her house to steal everything she owned in the middle of the night? Because if I wasn't mistaken, the neighbourhood I was about to drive into only accommodated the - how could I put it in simple terms? - ridiculously rich.
As soon as we hit the freeway, I got twitchy. The awkward silence surrounding us was so thick I thought if I breathed in hard enough I'd choke on it. Noah sat across from me, rigid and staring unblinkingly out the windscreen. Never one for idle chit chat, and not about to start now, I decided it was time for drastic measures to be taken.
I wound down my window with the intent of lighting a smoke. At least then I'd have an excuse as to why I wasn't talking.
A tsking sound had me pausing with the cigarette in my mouth and my hand halfway to my lighter.
Noah was giving me a look of disbelief.
"You're not going to light that, are you?"
For the love of God. Now I couldn't even smoke in my own car?
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why? You have a problem with that?"
Her nose screwed up in the cutest way and had I not been so aggravated and at my wits end from the shit-storm of a night I'd had, I would have smiled at her expression.
"Yeah, I do. I don't want to die of second hand smoke."
Was she serious? I bit back a snort, instead giving her a droll stare. "One cig isn't going to kill you, you know."
"I don't care. It all adds up," she was quick to supply, and I heaved a big sigh of despair.
"Fine," I said, dropping it into the centre piece and focusing on the road.
But Noah was far from done.
"You shouldn't be smoking anyway. How old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen?" she wanted to know.
I spared her a sideways glance. What was she, my mother?
Even if she was, there was no way I was about to drop a three and a half year habit just because it annoyed her. A lot of people smoked. And if it was her goal in life to save the world one smoker at a time, she'd do well to start with a smoker who wasn't about to pull off on the shoulder of the highway to make her walk the rest of the way home if she didn't drop her interrogation and judgement.
"Don't even go there," I warned. "If I want to die early, that's my prerogative."
She looked like she might argue, but lucky for her she thought better of it and stared out her window instead.
Now, where the hell was that awkward silence. I was starting to miss it.
Noah's house was just as big and sprawling as I thought it would be.
A two storey affair with a balcony on the second floor and an entryway consisting of an overhang supported by four cylindrical columns that flanked a short stairway, it was a pretty sweet home. Then there was the huge Dodge Ram truck sitting in the driveway and the double garage just behind it, which was probably bigger than my entire place. The girl's parents must have been drowning in money, and now I realised why she wouldn't bat an eyelash at telling me where she lived. They probably had more security than the local mall; you'd be stupid not to.
"Um, thanks for the ride," Noah mumbled, unclipping her belt.
"Yeah, sure," I said, scrubbing my hands down my face. I was so tired I actually second guessed whether I'd stay awake long enough to get myself home.
"I um, guess I'll be going now," she offered, like maybe I hadn't gotten the hint when she'd undone her belt. what did she want, written permission to leave my car? For me to walk her to her front door?
"Right," I said, hoping that would be enough.
She was a bit clumsy getting out, trying not to bump her hand, and I immediately felt like an ass for not getting out to help.
Before she shut the door, she leaned down so we were eye level. It gave me a second to once again notice how pretty she was, and that unfamiliar fluttering sensation swept through my stomach again, gone as quick as it had come.
"Thanks for everything, Tyson."
I nodded and started the car. There was no need to prolong this considering the chances I'd ever see her again were slim to none. Sighing heavily, Noah shut the door and stepped back on the curb, and I wasted no time in putting the car in gear and starting off down the road.
I didn't even sneak a peek in my rear view mirror.
Okay, maybe once. Or twice.
Three times at the most.