August Unknown Read Free Page B

allowed to sleep if they had a serious head
injury.
    Jocelyn took his hand and led him inside. The woman shared the
room with two other patients, both elderly women who appeared to be sleeping.
He sat in the guest chair and pulled Jocelyn into his lap. She leaned her head
back on his chest and watched the woman with him.
    Impossibly long eyelashes made crescents across her cheekbones
as she dozed with lips slightly parted. He found it strange he’d noticed those
lashes last night through all the chaos. Afterward, he thought he might have
imagined them. Now, in the light of day, he saw they were more amazing than
he’d first thought.
    He’d suspected her hair was light, but last night when it had
been soaking wet, he couldn’t really tell. He’d had other things on his mind,
like mind-altering fear. He never imagined it was such a magnificent,
shimmering blond. It sprawled across the pillow beneath her head, long enough
to reach her elbows.
    “She’s pretty,” Jocelyn whispered.
    She’s more than pretty , Geoffrey thought. Though
frighteningly pale, her skin was clear and smooth. She looked a little green
against the white bandage at her forehead, but when healthy and smiling, this
woman was stunning—he would bet money on it. She appeared to be of Nordic
descent, with high cheekbones and a narrow nose.
    Her left arm rested above the sheets. A fiberglass cast
covered the bend in her elbow and reached to the knuckles on her hand. Slender,
delicate fingers curled around its edge. He remembered how she’d cried out when
he’d moved her.
    Geoffrey scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d done everything
wrong last night.
    She breathed a soft sigh and her lids fluttered, and then
opened. Brilliant blue eyes that glittered like aquamarine gemstones locked
with his, making Geoffrey’s blood race. He held his breath, no idea what in the
world he would say to her.
    * * *
    A thin whisper brought her from the edge of a dream. Opaque
light filtered through her closed lids. It was day, she realized as she came
fully awake.
    Antiseptic smells stung her nostrils. This is a hospital .
In the back of her mind, she knew she was hurt. Her entire body was weak, sore.
Battered.
    Bass drums pounded in her head. She opened her eyes and the
room came into view, fuzzy at first, then growing clearer like steam clearing
from a window.
    A man she didn’t recognize sat in the chair beside her bed, an
adorable little girl with curly blond hair in his lap.
    She had never seen either of them before.
    Confusion barreled over her, only to be replaced instantly by
fear. Dread. Worry. Confusion again. An underlying terror something horrible
had happened.
    The little girl sat upright and her face brightened. The man
urged her off his lap. He had the same hair, only thicker and with darker
undertones.
    “Go get Dr. Carlson,” he told her.
    The little girl scampered off. Once in the hallway, she
shrieked, “Dr. Carlson!” and the man in the chair winced.
    “Sorry,” he whispered.
    He stood and stepped closer, bringing along a crushing fear.
She couldn’t breathe.
    “Hi.” He smiled, but his eyes held worry.
    She swallowed, tried to speak. Her throat was dry and sore.
She glanced up, looking for a call button. Something to bring help—safety. Her
pulse raced. She was in danger. But from what?
    More importantly, from whom ?
    Her confusion grew thicker, along with the solid pain
throbbing in her head.
    The little girl returned, tugging the hand of a man in a white
coat.
    “Well, good morning. How’s my favorite patient today?”
    Goodness, did she know this man? He smiled kindly, but it did
little to appease her fear.
    “What happened?”
    “You were hit by a car last night, but you’re going to be just
fine.”
    She glanced to the other man. He smiled sheepishly. “I’m the
guy who hit you.”
    “Where am I?”
    “This is Pacific Communities Hospital in Newport, Oregon,” the
doctor told her.
    She tried to move. A spike of pain went off