2

Chapter Two

Phoebe

I felt like a train had hit me. I guessed that wasn’t too far off the mark, and it wasn’t pleasant. My head throbbed, my ribs ached, and my back was one long strip of pain all down my spine. At least the emergency room doctor had given me the good stuff, so I was only in half as much agony as I would have been otherwise.

I didn’t have a clear memory of much of what had happened. I blinked and looked at the nurse standing over me after they settled me in a hospital room. “How did I get here?” Someone in the ER had told me an accident, but the details were sketchy.

“You were hit by a car. You stepped out in front of poor Mr. Santos and gave him a heart attack.” The young woman frowned down at me severely, as though I’d deliberately tried to frighten the man who’d hit me with his car.

I assumed a car anyway. If he’d really hit me with a train, I probably wouldn’t have woken up at all. A flash of red came to mind, and I was sure I’d seen a galloping horse on the hood. My head ached harder when I tried to recall other details.

“He’s been so sweet, you know. He had his assistant bring coffee and donuts for the staff, and he’s been pacing up a storm. He’s still waiting for an update, but your doctor said we couldn’t tell him anything without your permission.” Karen, according to her name tag, pursed her lips in obvious disapproval.

“I’m sorry, but whom?” It was difficult to follow her conversation.

She gave me an exasperated sigh. “Mr. Damon Santos—the man whose car you jumped in front of.” She tisked her tongue. “Surely, you aren’t going to deny him an update since he’s been so concerned about you?”

“I…of course not.” I frowned as I tried to place the name, but I was fairly certain I’d never met a Damon Santos in my life.

A creepy, crawly sensation slid across my skin as I wondered if it was one of the men I’d danced for over the past few months. There were a few regulars who came to Peek-A-Boo, and I’d learned a few names, but there were a lot of faces that were in and out.

For some reason, I found it creepier to imagine one of those customers hitting me with his car and waiting around for my prognosis than I did to imagine him seeing me in a thong and pasties. It felt so much more personal and intimate in a strange way I couldn’t explain.

“Well, shall I let him back?” From Karen’s impatient tone, it didn’t appear to be the first time she’d asked me.

I blinked again and nodded slowly. I instantly regretted that as a flash of pain danced through my skull, making me see stars. “Uh, yes, please.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “Very sensible of you.” Without another word, she rushed out.

I waited in the silence, listening to my brain thumping in my skull. It probably wasn’t actually doing that, but it felt bruised and tender. I was trying to remember what had happened, and I closed my eyes.

I went back as far as my memory would, recalling leaving the club. I hadn’t bothered the bouncers to walk me to the bus stop. That was my usual routine, so how…

I gasped as I remembered the mugger. My eyes snapped open, and I jerked upright to find a pair of bright blue ones fastened on me with deep intensity. I blinked, certain I’d seen them before. “Um, hello?”

He gave me a small smile, which emphasized the perfection of his lips. “Hello.”

“You must be Mr. Santos.” He had to be around forty, though there were only a couple of strands of silver at his temples, which was twenty years older than me, but he wore it well. He had an air of maturity and distinction I found attractive. I’d always been drawn to older men, but I hadn’t done much dating, so I hadn’t really explored my interests.

He smiled again. “That’s me. I guess Karen told you?” His gaze narrowed slightly. “Unless you know who I am?”

I shrugged. “I assume you’re the guy who hit me with a car?”

His gaze narrowed further, and his lips tightened. “Yes. I’d like to know if that was an accident?”

My eyes widened. “Surely you didn’t mean to run me down?”

He gave a short, sharp laugh that held little amusement. “I can’t help wondering if you timed it right. If so, it was a foolish risk to take for a modest payout.”

My mouth dropped open when I realized of what he was accusing me. “How dare you? I was running from a mugger, and you didn’t have your lights on.” That tidbit returned to me in a rush as my adrenaline surged. The phantom sensation of running spread through my body as I was thrust back into that moment.

He shifted. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You get to a point where you can’t trust anyone really, I guess. Even a beautiful woman often has an ulterior motive.” He frowned. “Or maybe especially a beautiful woman.”

I made a noncommittal sound, not sure what to make of his comment. Was he insulting me or giving me an offhanded compliment? Either way, he clearly thought I might have thrown myself in front of his car to get some money from him. I was desperate, but not that desperate.

On the other hand, the idea of going through that once versus dancing night after night might not be so bad… No, I definitely hadn’t reached that point of desperation yet.

“Thank you for checking on me, but I’m fine. You can go now. I’m sure my insurance will cover the bill.” I tossed that out bravely, though it wasn’t true. I couldn’t afford insurance, and my stomach clenched at the idea of another bill. I should have just given the mugger the money in my purse, because this was sure to cost a lot more.

“I’m not leaving just yet, miss.” He arched a brow. “Do you have a name? The staff literally wouldn’t tell me a thing about you, though Karen at least strongly hinted you were alive.”

I thought about withholding it, but I was just being stubborn now. He’d offended me, but maybe he was trying to be as nice as he knew how to be. “Phoebe Turlington.”

He held out a hand, which was as perfectly shaped as the rest of him. I slowly extended mine, jolting when our flesh touched. His fingers were smooth and neatly manicured, indicating he didn’t do much manual labor. I found that appealing about him too. I’d much rather have smooth hands caress my skin than rough ones.

I blinked and shook my head at the thought, wincing again as I quickly pulled away my hand.

He frowned, his concern appearing genuine. “Let me ask Karen to give you something for the pain.”

“No. They gave me a shot a while ago.” My hip still hurt from the injection.

He frowned. “Surely, they can do something more?”

I lifted a shoulder, trying not to think about how much each treatment cost. “I’m fine.”

He seemed satisfied with my answer after a moment and took a step back. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

Before either of us could speak again, a young man entered the room. He wore mint-green scrubs with Pikachu Crocs. His stethoscope was fluorescent green, and he had a matching stripe in his blond hair. He grinned at me, but his smile faltered slightly at the sight of Mr. Santos.

“How are you feeling, Phoebe?” He briefly glanced at my chart as he asked.

“I’m okay.” I shifted slightly as the pain went down my spine. “Or I will be. I just need some rest.”

He nodded, and as he got closer, I read his nametag. Dr. Kormin. He didn’t look old enough to even be a resident, but he was probably older than he seemed. “That’s a great idea.” He slanted a glance at Mr. Santos. “As you can see, she’s fine, sir. You can leave now.”

Mr. Santos bristled, and he seemed inclined to argue with the doctor.

I nodded. “I’m okay, Mr. Santos. Thank you for staying to check on me.”

After a moment, and with a fierce frown, he lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Very well. I’ll check on you in the morning though.” Was that a threat or a promise?

I gave him a wan smile as he left. I wasn’t sure what to think of him, but he seemed to care about my welfare. Or maybe he was worried about a potential lawsuit. That dimmed my smile further, and it disappeared as he left.

Until I looked back at Dr. Kormin, who seemed so bright and cheerful that it was hard not to smile. He was beaming too, and it seemed to be from Mr. Santos leaving. “Do you know him?”

He shook his head. “Just his type. Pushy, rude, and arrogant. They think they should get whatever they want when they want it.” He waved a hand. “Sometimes, it’s fun to deny them.”

I wouldn’t have expected that from the seemingly fun-loving doctor, and I had no response. “When can I get out of here?”

“A couple of days, at minimum.”

I scowled at that. “Nope.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“I need to leave tonight.” I knew staying overnight in a hospital would be astronomical. The last time Tabitha had to spend two nights in the hospital had nearly depleted the last of the life insurance money, and that was with the health coverage she had.

Dr. Kormin scowled. “That’s out of the question.”

“I’m leaving. I can sign myself out. Against medical advice, right?” I’d seen that on a few TV shows.

“I can’t tie you to the bed, but it’s a terrible idea for you to leave. We haven’t even gotten back all the imaging tests.”

I sat up slowly, swinging my feet out of bed. It hurt, but I could move. “I’m fine.” I gritted my teeth as pain surged through me, but it wasn’t as bad as I expected when I stood up. “I’m leaving… once I find my clothes.”

The doctor protested, but I didn’t listen to him as I limped across the room to a cupboard with my clothes. I opened the door carefully and eyed the items I’d been wearing. I could have sobbed with relief when I noticed my purse hanging there too. Despite my pain, I moved quickly to open my wallet, my heart swelling when I saw all the bills still in there. At least the hospital would have to take payments, whereas Berkshire Facility wouldn’t. I had to pay tomorrow, or they’d transfer Tabitha to a state facility.

It was another reason to leave, and I turned back to the doctor. “I’m about to get undressed, so you can give me some privacy, or you can watch.”

His mouth clenched, and he clearly wanted to keep arguing. After a moment, he tossed his hands in the air and stormed from the room. I was sure he said something about stubborn patients.

I turned back to my clothes and gingerly removed the hospital gown. I still had a hep-lock in place, but there was no IV line attached. I’d see if Karen would remove it for me before I left. If not, surely I could figure out how to remove the vein catheter myself. I’d seen my mom do it several times when I used to stop by the hospital after school when she was on shift.

I hadn’t bothered with a bra since I was wearing a tank top and hoodie when I changed after dancing, so I stood in just my panties—not thongs, because I hated those and only wore them during performances—as I rifled through my clothes.

“What the hell are you doing, Phoebe?”

I stiffened at the commanding tone, feeling like a guilty child, and slowly turned to face Mr. Santos. He was staring at me impassively, but I realized the exact moment he noticed I wasn’t wearing anything above the waist. His eyes widened, his perfect lips parted, and he gasped softly.

My nipples hardened, and I gasped as well. I quickly crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him, wondering why he was in my room again—and why it was so arousing to be almost naked for him when I was practically naked night after night for a room full of men. I hated my job, but I had the urge to drop my hands and let him look at me for as long as he wanted.