“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll call you later tonight, okay?”
“Okay.”
He turned at the door. Pulling me to him with his hand behind my head, he kissed me, lingering. “I’m going to see you again soon,” he said against my lips.
My lips curved against his. “Whatever you say.”
“Damn straight.” But his eyes were twinkling as he shut the door.
This entire night worked for me. I’d had a great time but wasn’t ready for the implications of a sleepover. And I got to pick up Bailey while she was still awake, our dinner being so much earlier than a club visit. That may not have been everyone’s idea of a great date, but to me it was almost like heaven.
Except for the cough. It was only a small, dry cough when I picked Bailey up from Shelly’s apartment, but it quickly progressed into a full-fledged mortar explosion, complete with phlegmy shrapnel. As if that wasn’t scary enough, her fever spiked from a low-grade 99 up to 102 degrees even with medicine.
Shelly had accepted a client since I’d gotten back so early, so I swiped her laptop to hunt online for advice, but all I found were stern call-your-pediatrician directives. Bailey’s pediatrician was long gone from the low-cost doctor’s office, and now the only option was the twenty-four-hour emergency clinic. She wailed and coughed and then wailed some more. I’d never seen her like this.
By the time I called the emergency clinic, Bailey was in full-fledged banshee mode. The receptionist gave me a scripted, “She should be seen,” barely audible over Bailey’s shrieks of pain and baby frustration. That meant spending a hundred bucks we didn’t have, but I’d pull it from the rent money for now.
Fortunately, the clinic was not at all crowded for a Saturday night. In fact, after the last couple of people were called in, we had the dingy waiting room to ourselves. I filled out the paperwork and settled in to wait for Bailey’s name to be called.
The night air had a calming effect on Bailey. If it wasn’t for the nasty cough that intermittently racked her small body, she almost seemed well. But we were there already and had paid, and it made more sense to stay and be seen.
I almost didn’t notice him. My attention was split between Bailey and the clock. But he stopped right in front of us, and I looked up. Even then I didn’t recognize him right away. A big, scary-looking man who’d had the shit beat out of him, that’s what I thought. Angry, red welts covered his face. His right eye was swollen and literally taped shut, with what looked like first-aid tape. My arms tightened around Bailey, and then I recognized him—the man from the club, in the parking lot.
The man who’d almost raped/fucked me and had only been stopped by Colin’s threats. Apparently he’d picked the wrong girl to mess with this time, because he was wrecked.
Had he followed us here? Would he try to hurt us?
This was a public place, but I knew from personal experience that no place was safe, least of all a hospital. I glanced nervously around the small, empty room of plastic chairs. The receptionist was behind a frosted-glass sliding window. Probably the most I could hope for was that she would call the cops if trouble started. Oh, and we’d have speedy-fast medical aftercare. Great.
I had to get him away from us for Bailey’s sake. There was no going along with it this time. I licked my lips, trying to think fast with an armful of sick baby.
He spoke, but only half of his lips moved, the other half busted up. “I’m not going to hurt you, I swear.”
Right, that’s what people always say when they have no intention of hurting someone.
“I just want to apologize,” he said, the last word slurring almost unintelligibly. He shifted his weight between his feet nervously, or maybe just in pain.
I didn’t really care, so long as he left us alone. “Okay.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Okay. It’s okay.” I willed him to walk away, begged him with my eyes.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you. Are you all right?”
All I could think of was how to get this guy to leave, but I didn’t know what he wanted. If anything, he seemed to be getting more worked up. His breathing increased, but not in a menacing way—more like he’d fall down any second.
I glanced at the closed receptionist window again, wondering if we’d need her help for a different kind of emergency. “Umm, you don’t seem so good. Are you all right?”
He jumped back. “No! I’m fine. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Okay,” I said, more confused than wary at this point. “So…” I trailed off, glancing at the door suggestively.