Loverboy Read Free

Murphy is my chance to show everyone how seriously I take my job, and just how good I am at doing it.
    I throw my neck from one side to the other, making it crack loudly. Waiting is the hard part. Once she wakes up, I am supposed to finally introduce myself and ask her a few questions. I’m supposed to give her the run down about how she will have 24-hour police protection. But, until she wakes up, here I sit, in the most uncomfortable chair I have ever sat in before, and wait. As luck would have it, I don’t have to wait long this morning. I don’t know which is worse, waiting or having to ask the poor girl to remember what she could.
    I draw in one long deep breath as I stand up to stretch. A doctor and a nurse have both gone in her room to answer the call light that came from inside. I begin to pace the floor outside the room slowly. I don’t know why, but my nerves are in a tight ball, and for some reason, I feel as though it is a little personal. I take another long breath in and exhale slowly. I am sure I will be the next one to go in her room, and I’m not sure how either of us will handle that. The nurse and the doctor both leave the room quicker than I expect. The doctor is kind enough to let me know that she will see me now. I nod, and begin to slowly push open the door.
    “Charlotte,” I say, keeping my voice as low as possible.
    “It’s Charlie,” she replies back as I slide myself past the doorway and into the room.              
    She’s sitting up in bed, wrapped up in her sweats and blankets. Her eyes are bruised, with shades of black and blue framing them. There are large cuts; some with stitches, others with bandages all lining her face and neck. The only other skin revealed on her body, her hands, are in equal condition. Her right arm, having the IV running from it as various liquids are being pumped into her system. But, underneath the bruises, IV, bandages, and stitches is a beautiful young woman. Her skin is a soft ivory , that, without the marks, would probably be flawless. Though I can’t make out the color, her eyes are lighter, brighter, and seem to glow. Her hair is a warm honey color that, despite being a tad messy, is still shiny and near perfect as it sits on top of her head in an up do that’s beginning to fall around her face.
    “Hi,” I say, swallowing hard.
    “Hi,” she says, and I can immediately tell she’s forcing herself to be friendly. I don’t blame her. A man isn’t exactly the best for a job like this.
    “I’m Nick Andrews; I was sent here...”
    She immediately interrupts to nod her head. “I know.”
    “Is there anything I can get you, Charlotte?” I ask.
    “It’s Charlie,” she says again as she pushes a large gob of hair from her eyes.
    “What?” I ask.
    “Charlie; everyone calls me Charlie,” she explains. “Call me Charlie.”
    I nod. “Alright, Charlie; call me Nick.”
    She looks up at me, finally meeting my eyes for the first time. Her eyes are large and blue. I can see that tears are very visibly beginning to fill them. She sniffles and dabs at her eye. “Nick?”
    I nod. “Family name,” I say, pulling a chair next to her bed, “After my uncle on my father’s side.”
    She nods and carefully brushes a tear away that has dribbled down her cheek, “So, why did they send you?”
    I never expected her to be blunt.
    “Unfortunately, we really don’t have many ladies at the department,” I explain, “and, my boss just thought I would be the easiest to talk to.”
    Her eyes meet mine again, and she purses her lips that I can see have tiny cuts lining them. “Can I honestly trust you?”
    I nod. “Of course.” I add, “I wouldn’t make you say anything that you’re not comfortable with, either.”
    “How do they expect me to talk to someone that I don’t even know?” She asks.
    “Good point,” I say. “I’m Nicholas Christopher Andrews; I am twenty-five years old. My mom is Diane, and my dad is Gerald. We’re from