“I just got here,” Andy protested. He turned to me. “Do you want me to leave?”
The words were stuck in my throat. This man could potentially have all the answers I’d been searching for since I’d opened my eyes. I couldn’t speak though, mostly because I was afraid of what might tumble out. Get Gray. I need Gray.
Detective Myers cleared her throat as the uncomfortable silence stretched on. She turned to Andy. “This is actually good timing. I need to speak to you more about your partner here anyway. Anything you can tell me about his family, friends, work…anything at all might help us figure out who tried to kill him.”
Andy nodded shortly and stood, all bulky and imposing. He came to the head of the bed and kissed me on the forehead. I was surprised he didn’t leave a cold spot on my skin. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he promised.
The smile didn’t reach his eyes. And then I knew. When I looked into those cold, empty eyes, I knew. This man was not my partner. So just who the hell was he? I watched him go, trepidation thrumming in my veins. Maybe he’s the one who shot you, here to finish the job. He turned at the door and gave me a little wave, and I furrowed my brow in confusion. Or maybe he really is your partner.
I balled my fists in frustration. Why couldn’t I remember anything?
Dr. Michaels checked me over with his calming, sure hands. Man, had I been wrong about him. He might look twelve, but he had a kind disposition and a reassuring manner. “You’re a good doctor,” I said blurted.
He startled, but then smiled a little. “Glad you think so. Let me just take a little listen to your heart.” He gestured for me to sit up a little, and I did with a groan. “You’re improving faster than expected, Mr. Cross.”
I perked up as he stuck the ends of the stethoscope in his ears. “So I can get out of here?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
I groaned. “Shit, you’re not even bothering to bullshit me with terms like soon and maybe and we’ll see any more.”
He chuckled, and then we stopped talking as he stuck the cold end of the stethoscope on my back. “Breathe in and out for me,” he said quietly. After I did his little Lamaze exercises for a satisfactory period, he took the stethoscope out of his ears and tucked it in his pocket.
He helped me lay back down, and I felt a little perspiration at my temples, which was pitiful. But just that little bit of motion made me exhausted. Getting out of bed six or seven times a day for the bathroom had helped me build up some strength, but I wasn’t going to be running a marathon anytime soon.
“Everything sounds good,” he said as I wiped tiny beads of sweat from my forehead. He paused, clearly debating about what he was going to say. “Do…do you want me to put in an order that you’re not to have any visitors?”
I flushed, my humiliation complete. He thought I was in some sort of abusive situation with Andy. Hell, maybe I was, and I just didn’t remember. But I had a feeling I’d remember those fists coming near my face. The man looked like he could give a brick wall the Hulk treatment and just walk away mumbling, oops, my bad.
“I shouldn’t do that. Should I?” I gazed at him, undecided. “He could have all the answers I need.”
Now that Andy wasn’t looming over me, I doubted my earlier assessment that he couldn’t be my partner. Maybe I was just upset because he wasn’t Gray. I’d cared for him enough at one point for us to get matching tattoos like we were drunken frat bros.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Dr. Michaels finally said. “I’m just offering you a solution until you get your feet under you.”
I frowned down at my feet, covered in hospital regulation nonslip socks. They were yellow with textured white arrows on the bottom. I hated it when the covers came off my feet. Dr. Michaels sighed as he pulled the thin sheet down to cover them. I might have mentioned that a time or six.
“Anyway, you don’t have to decide now.” He squeezed my foot before he turned to leave. “Just let the nurses know.”
“I’ll do that,” I murmured to the ceiling as the door closed behind him.
I couldn’t find the remote to turn the TV to something interesting or adjust the volume, but that was all right. I had a lot to think about. I knew I didn’t trust Andy—there was just something off about my relationship with him. I knew he’d be back in the morning, though, and I had to have a plan to deal with him by then.
Detective Myers would be back, too. I knew she wasn’t anywhere near letting my situation slide into the cold case files. She was determined to expose that I was faking, and she wasn’t going to stop until she did. And what if she decided it was best to handcuff me to the bed again? I nearly broke out into a cold sweat thinking about it.
Then there was Gray. My stomach cramped just thinking about the look on his face. I owed him an apology, but I knew he didn’t want anything from me now. He wouldn’t be back, and who could blame him? Apparently, Old Me thought it was a jolly good idea to cheat on the love of my life with Frosty the Muscle Man.
Besides, what did I have to offer Gray anyway? He was a handsome, successful, caring doctor, and I was a guy someone had dumped in an emergency room bay. I stared down at my hands. Oh, and now I had the memory of a goldfish. Add a picture of my pale and battered face to an online dating profile and watch the kind of crazy my milkshake brought to the yard.
By the time the dinner cart rolled around, I knew what I had to do. I wasn’t going to figure anything out lying around in this hospital bed. I felt too exposed. Too vulnerable. Someone had tried to kill me, which I conveniently kept forgetting. And with Detective Myers all but putting out a billboard saying, Have you seen this man, I felt like a sitting duck.
I had to get the hell out of here.
After all, it wasn’t a crime for me to leave. Once I was out of this place, there wasn’t anything Detective Myers could do about it. She could either bring me up on charges or leave me the hell alone. But she certainly wouldn’t be able to pop in day and night, and she wouldn’t be able to handcuff me to a bed for my “safety.”
I chewed on my lip as I thought about the logistics. Right after a shift change and the night nurse took my vitals would be best. Very few of the same faces I’d seen all day would be still here. Visiting hours would be close to ending, which meant there would still be enough people left to blend in with as they left the hospital.
Plan in place, I settled down for a nap. I had a feeling I was going to need my strength.
I put my plan into effect slightly after the night nurse introduced herself, took my vitals, and left. I slid the oxygen sensor off my finger, and my numbers dropped off the machine. They wouldn’t be too suspicious at the nurses’ station yet—I usually took it off when I went to the bathroom.
I made my way over to the closet, using the walls as a crutch. I opened the little closet and found two medium-sized, clear plastic bags with my personal effects. I looked at them in dismay. I knew immediately that my bloody, dirty, torn clothing wasn’t going to be wearable. I hadn’t opened the bag, but I’d be willing to hazard they were smelly, too. Even if I could stomach putting them on, I wasn’t going to get far stumbling down the hall looking like an extra in the “Thriller” video.