Chapter 4

"Kitten, I need you to wake up. Come on, I know you're tired, but the doctor's here to see you to take the tube out."

I opened my eyes wider than it seemed I had in years. The swelling had dissipated enough to allow the light to flood through the larger slits between my lids and blind me. But cords connected from my body to God knew what stopped me from shielding my eyes with my arm or hands. I wondered briefly how many machines monitored some aspect of my bodily function. I'd never felt discomfort like what I experienced trying to adjust to the sunshine filling the room.

As my pupils contracted, I would have sworn I felt their actual movement and the way they narrowed until I was able to focus. It was surreal and would have been a sensation I wanted to hold on to-the way the world came back into view after days of lost perception-but the migraine surpassed the beauty, and turning my head resulted in agony. When the searing spikes through my skull subsided, I was able to recognize that the overall level of pain had diminished since the last time it was evaluated.

The doctor caught my attention in his pristine, white lab coat standing near the window. I stared at him and waited for him to speak since I couldn't. He showed me his professional smile, and I swore Dax growled next to the bed, but it could have been a machine.

"Hi, Ms. Pierce, I'm Dr. Johnson. You seem to be much better than the night you came in."

I shrugged.

I didn't have a clue how I felt the night I came in. I glanced at Dax for comfort, but he was too busy giving Dr. Johnson the glare of death and wringing the life out of my hand in the process to notice my stare. My eyes rounded the room again with my newly recovered vision, taking in everything at once.

The doctor asked about pain, but he was much more specific in his questions than the nurse. I listened attentively as he ran down the checklist of injuries I'd sustained: multiple fractures to the skull, two breaks in the arm, and bruises and lacerations covered my back and sides from the brick wall my assailant had used to remove my skin. Every time I tried to adjust in the bed, fire shot through my leg that radiated into my hip and butt.

Dr. Johnson hesitated-it hadn't escaped my attention that he had gone all around my body but skipped a large section.

"Ms. Pierce, maybe we should discuss the rest of your injuries privately." He made a statement while asking a question. His raised eyebrows indicated the subject matter wasn't pretty.

Dax was the only person in the room who wasn't a medical professional. When I glanced over at him, his eyes swam with kindness; I'd only seen them so soft when he'd spoken to Julie that day at her desk.

"Cameron, if you want to do this privately, I can step outside. I don't mind. Or, I can stay here, hold your hand, and try to walk through the heartache with you." His words were gentle and sincere; he'd whispered them, giving me a choice. "Do you want me to wait in the hall?"

I debated silently but guessed he already knew what had happened. Maybe not the details, but the end result. I didn't know how long he'd been here, but I was fairly sure he had been in the ambulance-although, I didn't know how. I faced humiliation with or without him, but at least with him, I wouldn't be in solitude. I shook my head and offered his hand a tiny squeeze. When I tore my stare from Dax and returned it to the doctor, he resumed speaking.

"There is no delicate way to put any of this; although, I wish there were. Your attacker not only sexually assaulted you, but there was a significant amount of damage done both inside and outside of the vagina by something else. The wall of your uterus sustained tremendous damage, which we tried to repair. The stitches are likely the discomfort you still feel. Unfortunately, until those dissolve and the swelling subsides, we can't evaluate the long-term damage. Hopefully, there won't be any other than a few small scars..." He kept talking, though I had tuned out.

But it appeared Dax listened intently, so I allowed my mind to wander and block out the voices. Somewhere in the discussion, the decision was made to remove the breathing tube, which left my throat engulfed in a raging inferno that burned through my esophagus. The nurse teased me with cool water, but wouldn't allow me to drink much at a time for fear of my stomach revolting against the intrusion. I declined the pain medicine she offered, wanting to hold on to a few moments of lucidity, even if it was agonizing. I hadn't spoken when the medical posse filed out of the room, leaving me alone with Dax.

His overwhelming presence called to me. When I chanced a glance in his direction, I found his beautiful eyes staring back at me. I watched as his pupils narrowed, and the yellow engulfed the green, and he waited for me to speak.

"Dax, why are you here?" The raspy tone unintentionally came off harsh.

"I've been with you since the police found you." His voice was smooth and empathetic.

"But how?"

His eyes closed slowly as if he were reliving an event he didn't really want to think about, much less discuss. "My buddy, Fisher, is on the Greenville police force. I've talked to him about you a lot, so has Julie. When they found you and got your license out of your wallet, he recognized the name-although, not the beautiful woman I had spoken so fondly of. He called me." He paused as if to collect his thoughts. "Jesus, Cameron, he scared the shit out of me. He wouldn't give me any details and asked if you had any family he could contact. I called Julie, and she said you didn't have any she was aware of and didn't know how to reach any of your friends. When I got back in touch with him and found you, I couldn't leave. I was in the ambulance, but I paid hell when we got here because I wasn't a relative. Fisher used his pull to get me in, and once I had been here a couple days, the nurses all knew me and left me alone."

Silence overcame the room when I lost the ability to form coherent thoughts or speak to the man who'd been by my side inexplicably. I had been nothing short of a raging bitch to him on top of having stood him up for dinner; yet, here he sat and hadn't left.

"How long have I been here?"

"Today makes the eighth day."

I was stunned I'd lost more than a week of my life with zero recollection. "You've never left?"

"No."

"The singing and the guitar. I thought it was an angel, but it was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why does anyone do anything, Cameron?"

"I don't like that."

Confused, he questioned, "You don't like what?"

"You calling me Cameron."

"I'm sorry. What would you prefer?"

"No." The fear of rejection was plain as day in his eyes, as though I could cast him aside after he'd spent eight days in vigilant watch at my bedside. "My friends call me Cam-but from you..." I hesitated, not sure of what I was about to say or why I wanted to say it. "I prefer kitten-unless you've used that with other women, in which case, you need to stop." I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with him, unsure of how he'd take my revelation.

"Kitten is and has been reserved solely for you, Cam. I've never used it with anyone else. It just suited you the moment we met. You have this sweet look, but damn, you have some sharp claws." The smile on his face as he delivered the sentiment confirmed he'd issued a compliment. "You look really tired. Are you in pain?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to sleep. Every time they give me any medication, it knocks me out."

"You need to rest. I'll have the nurse give you something." The no-nonsense alpha I'd encountered in my office had returned.

In an attempt to lighten his mood, I said, "Don't go all Dom on me, Dax. I just want to be present for a little while."

His roaring laugh rang through the small room. "Baby, you don't know shit about me going Dom, but you will. I'll give you this one since you've been asleep for over a week, but don't test me in the future. I won't be so lenient." He winked at me to signal his playful nature, but a part of him had just issued a warning I found oddly endearing.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"How bad has this been publicized?" It shouldn't have mattered, my health and well-being were more important than my humiliation, but I dreaded his answer.

"You mean what happened to you?" He bobbed his head mirroring my nod. "It hasn't. I mean, there were news reports about a woman being sexually assaulted and beaten, but the last one I saw still referred to her as Jane Doe. But, baby, even if someone had gotten a picture to release to the press, you weren't recognizable when they found you."

"So no one knows where I am?"

"Well, I do. Julie does. She said she'd take care of anyone at work who needed to know and field questions regarding your absence to anyone who didn't. Your cell phone was demolished. I assume it got stomped on, so I wasn't able to call any of your friends, and I didn't know of any family to try to find."

I needed to reach out to my girls, the only family I had-even if they weren't blood-related. There were five of us who were thick as thieves, who held me up, and me them, since my parents had died-my Fish.

"I need you to get in touch with my girlfriends. They're the only family I have."

"Okay. Just tell me their names and numbers, and I'll call them." He fumbled around the room looking for a pen and piece of paper. But when he turned back, tears flooded my cheeks and dripped from my chin. "No, no, no, don't cry. I'll call them. It's okay."

"I don't know any of their phone numbers," I wailed. "They've all been programmed into my phone, and I never have to actually dial them."

He tried to stifle his laughter. "Just give me their names. Fisher can find them."

"You're making fun of me," I pouted.

"No, sweetheart, I'm not. I realize if I lost my phone, I don't think I could even call my parents." He shrugged. "The age of technology, right? Give me their names. Fisher can handle it."

"Piper Pritchard, Charlotte Barton, Sutton Leigh, and Rachel Gordon." I peered up at him with hopeful eyes. I needed my girls, desperately. "Dax?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"How bad do I look?"

He hesitated, undoubtedly trying to find the least painful words he could. "Cam, that's kind of an unfair question."

"You said when they found me that my face was unrecognizable. Is it still?"

"No, most of the swelling is gone, and the bruises have turned yellowish green. There are a lot of scratches on your cheeks and along your jaw, but they're healing. Your lip was busted open pretty badly, but the doctor sewed it back together. Jesus, Cam. You're still fucking beautiful." He paused briefly. "Do you want a mirror?"

"Yes."

He glanced around the room, but other than the one in the bathroom there wasn't one nearby, and the tethers connecting me to the machines prevented me from making that journey. "I'll be right back," he said as he turned out of the room.

When he returned, he assured me a nurse would bring one from the maternity ward. As promised, a few minutes later, a huge mirror rolled through the door.

"Kitten, what you look like isn't important. The fact that you're alive is."

He gave me fair warning, but it hadn't prepared me for what I saw. My head was enormous and sickly shades of green, blue, and an unsightly yellow. I flinched at the hollow appearance that dwelled in my eyes. As my sight moved down my puffy nose, it reached a busted and swollen lip covered in stitches. I couldn't see where the bruising started or ended, but regardless of how I turned my head, there was no break in the discolored pattern. Everywhere I looked, there was something wrong, out of place, or an unnatural shade.

The moment the tears ebbed, Dax blocked my view of the mirror by moving in front of me. He crouched between my knees as I sat on the side of the mattress. Gingerly, he took my hands in his, and then gently kissed the corners of my mouth. And when I closed my eyes, hoping to hide the emotion threatening to break free, the tears escaped.

"Baby, you're going to look as good as new in no time. You're still just as gorgeous as you were the day you stood me up." He winked at me, eliciting a tiny hint of a grin.

I had no idea why he was here, or why I wanted him to stay-but he felt safe, and I felt protected. He carefully tilted his head to rest his forehead against mine and searched my eyes-for what, I didn't know. A subtle smile graced his full lips, and he kissed me on the tip of my nose.

"I'm sorry, Dax."

"For what?"

"For standing you up. For your spending eight days in this crappy place. For putting you in a position that made you feel like you needed to protect me." I let out a heavy sigh before releasing my last apology. "And for being such a bitch every time you came to my office." I couldn't fathom why he'd stayed with me after I'd so rudely dismissed him, repeatedly. But something about him made me want to tear down the walls I'd spent so many years erecting. And I knew-if I allowed him in-he'd have the power to destroy me when he left.

"All those things endear you to me, although you will be punished for the dinner incident." He gave me another sweet wink to keep things light and laughed at his threat. There was no doubt in my mind he was nothing more than a teddy bear in a tattooed body. "I'm going to go call Fisher. Do you want your friends to come see you?"

I nodded and received a stunning grin in return. I probably should have been bothered by the notion of him even hinting at physical harm after what I'd just survived, but something told me, regardless of Dax's lifestyle, he'd never raise his voice to me, much less his hand.

He returned a few minutes later, only to inform me that Fisher actually knew Rachel. Figured. She knew everyone in town and dated most of the men even remotely close to her age. Thankfully, he had her number and promised to reach out. Knowing Rachel, it would only take minutes after that for her to assemble the posse. Dax didn't seem to find any of that the least bit odd, so I went with it. I didn't care how I got my friends here as long as they came.