Gavin reached over and took her hand. “Thank you, Annie.”
The quiet doctor smiled. “I’m glad you’re looking out for her. I was telling Zac on the way over that I’ve never once seen her outside of the Eagle’s Nest. I know we’re all happy for Mac to have the help, but it seems like Lexi deserves some time to rest too. This is probably her body making sure she has that.”
That couldn’t be right, could it? “I’m sure she’s had some time off. Just because she doesn’t hang out with any of our crowd doesn’t mean she doesn’t have friends.”
“You would know,” Zac said. “You’ve been keeping pretty close tabs on her, right?”
“Yeah.”
Yeah, he had. And Anne was right. How had he missed that? In a month of watching her, he’d never thought about how damned easy she’d made it for him. She was almost always here at her apartment or at the bar. He’d only seen her go to the grocery store once, and her car rarely moved from its parking spot at the side of the building.
She’d never made friends with anyone, never gone out to eat, never gone shopping at the handful of stores they had in town. And he’d missed that because he’d been too busy watching for iniquitous actions.
He’d been too damned suspicious.
“I know you ran her in the system and nothing questionable came up,” Zac said.
Gavin held out his hand toward Lexi, who was lying completely helpless on the bed. “But this proves secrets, doesn’t it?”
Anne handed her bag to Zac, walked over, and touched Gavin on the arm. “Yes, she has secrets. We all do. I know you and she got off to a rough start, but maybe she’s not trouble. Maybe she’s in trouble. Maybe she needs your protection as much as everyone else around here does.”
“Maybe.” Gavin gave her a hug. “Thank you, Anne. I know this goes outside your job description.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you called. And I’m glad you’re willing to take care of her, even if you don’t trust her.”
He shook Zac’s hand, and they left. Lexi still hadn’t moved from her place on the bed, so he finished washing out his shirt and hung it over one of the hard plastic chairs before settling himself into the other one.
As he sat watching Lexi still lying there still as death, it occurred to him that maybe both he and Anne were right.
Maybe Lexi was both trouble and in trouble.
9
Lexi let out a soft gasp. She was awake. And Gavin could finally—finally—actually breathe again.
About damned time.
She’d been asleep for thirteen hours. He’d talked to Anne twice during that time: once for her to let him know that the toxicology report had come back clean, and once more a couple hours later when he’d felt sure Lexi should’ve already been awake. Anne had told him to trust that her body knew what it needed.
Gavin had gotten much less than thirteen hours of sleep. He didn’t feel guilty that he had spent the past few hours going through her apartment. Not that there was much of it go through.
He hadn’t found a damned thing. Nothing to suggest Lexi had any sort of hidden agenda of any kind. She had a few outfits in the closet. A bunch of makeup in the bathroom. But nothing unusual.
And not a single personal item in the whole damned place. No pictures. No knickknacks. No cell phone. Nothing.
“Why are you here?”
Her voice was hoarse. It sounded painful. He went and got her a glass of water and brought it over to her. “Drink first.”
She took the glass and gulped the water down. Watching her, something inside of him eased further. She was back. She was able to talk, so obviously she had a fully functioning brain.
Those green eyes spit fire at him again. Like he was the one who’d done something crazy.
“You scared the shit out of me,” he told her. He shouldn’t be so gruff but couldn’t seem to avoid it.
“How long have I been out?”
So this was something that happened regularly enough for her to know to ask that question. “Since you got off work last night. Almost thirteen hours.”
Again, no surprise on her features.
But then she froze, hand flying up to her face. She stared at him like she was expecting him to pounce on her.
“What?” he finally asked.
She threw her other hand up in front of her face. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
She shot out of bed, ran to the tiny bathroom, and slammed the door behind her. Evidently her large muscle groups were working fine too. And after thirteen hours, he wasn’t surprised the bathroom was a necessity.
He heard the shower running and decided to make them both something to eat. Because while he hadn’t been upset by anything he’d found in the apartment, he’d been fucking pissed at the state of her pantry and fridge. There wasn’t a fresh fruit or vegetable or piece of meat in this entire place. Ramen noodles—yes. Discounted canned soup—yes. Bread and peanut butter—yes. But that was it.
It didn’t take a genius to realize she was so broke she couldn’t afford to buy decent food.
What the hell was that all about? Tonight alone she had to have made more than a hundred dollars in tips. Oak Creek wasn’t the cheapest place in the world to live, but it definitely wasn’t outrageous or close to living expenses in most big cities.
Definitely not so expensive that she couldn’t afford a pack of chicken and some vegetables after a month living and working here.
The lack of fresh food had led him back to the drug-use theory. But he hadn’t found anything in here that suggested drug use. No paraphernalia. No discards. And he’d searched pretty damned thoroughly.
So where was her money going? Hell, he’d even looked under the mattress to see if she was hoarding it away there. Or maybe she was saving for something and had it all in a bank account. There was nothing wrong with that. In fact, it was admirable.
He scrubbed a hand down his face. The way his brain jumped from one extreme to the other with this woman was driving him crazy. Did he expect the best from her or the worst? He needed to fucking decide.
As soon as the town grocery store had opened up this morning, he’d placed an order and had it delivered. He hadn’t gotten as much as he’d wanted to, but at least there was now enough food here for him to make her an omelet with fresh ingredients.
She was still in the bathroom when he’d finished making their food fifteen minutes later. He could hear her putzing around in there so knew she was still conscious.
She finally came out of the bathroom, makeup flawless. Was that what she had been doing in there all this time? Did she really think he cared if her mascara was perfect? He’d bet she was every bit as gorgeous without any of that stuff on her face.
He slid a plate with the omelet across the table toward her. She stared at it, obviously aware that she hadn’t had the food here for him to make it.
She cleared her throat. “You probably have questions.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty much made of questions at this point. But eat first. Anne said to feed you when you woke up.”
“Dr. Anne was here?”
“It was either call her or take you to the emergency room. You were unconscious and unresponsive.”