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“Good girl. Go to sleep. When you wake up, it’ll be a brighter day.”
Chapter Three
Connor paused in the doorway to his room and stared at the frail hump beneath the covers on his bed. The king-size spread made the girl look so tiny, as though he could lose her in it. He’d turned the bedside lamp off so that only the light from the hall spilled over her, the dimmest of guardians against the dark.
He’d settled her on her stomach to take pressure off her back, and she looked like a neglected child in the cradle of the blankets. Dark shadows hugged her eyes, made more obvious by the deathly pallor of her skin.
He couldn’t wait to get her clean, to wash the dirt and blood and abuse away so that the person she was beneath all that shit could clamber free. He didn’t know the color of her hair or what her voice sounded like, but Connor realized he wanted to discover her secrets, to watch her bloom into the woman she should have been before…this.
And that was just dangerous territory.
He checked his watch, sighed at the time. Six fifteen, which meant his surgery started in just under two hours. He needed something to eat, a shower and a change of clothes before then. Most of all, he yearned to join Jenna in the land of sleep.
To hell with it, he decided. Caleb could see himself out and Sarah would do whatever it was she did before surgery started.
Connor was taking thirty minutes for himself.
He left his bedroom door ajar and walked to the next room, his guest room, and left that door wide open as he undressed down to his boxers. He needed to be able to hear his patient if she stirred, and he knew no one would disturb him.
His brothers in particular knew what Connor was like when disturbed from sleep. They’d had their fair share of black eyes after waking their brother up more than once as a teenager. Connor O’Malley did not take prisoners.
He slipped under the covers and rested his hands beneath his head. The aches and pains in his tired body sighed with relief as the cool sheets enveloped and soothed. He closed his eyes and willed every thought out of his head.
“Connor.Connor.”
What the fuck? Connor struggled to rouse himself from the tangles of sleep pulling his mind back into blessed oblivion. He cursed the irritating hand on his bare shoulder shaking him.
“Damn it, Connor, wakeup.” Sarah’s voice was higher in pitch than normal, and it shocked his bleary eyes open. His nurse looked frazzled, something he rarely saw happen with her.
“What?” He cleared the croak from his throat. “What’s wrong?”
“Your patient’s throwing a tantrum. Won’t let me near her.”
He grunted. “What time is it?”
“Nearly noon. I cancelled your appointments for the day, I didn’t think you’d be up to dealing with more after last night.” Sarah ran her hand through her hair and scowled at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You had a handful of appointments, and none of them merited immediate attention.Shedoes.”
Noon? Christ, he’d gone under and quickly. Connor blew out a hard breath and shoved himself upright. “Let me get dressed and I’ll go to her. Can you prep the exam room? Jenna’s wounds will need checking after I give her a shower.”
She smirked at him before she turned toward the door. Damn sassy little mare. “Already done, boss. Not all of us slept the morning away.” She winked and sauntered away.
“Not all of us slept the morning away,” Connor mocked under his breath. With a grin that belied his tiredness, he swung his legs out of bed and pulled on his clothes. He made a mental note to hunt down some clean underwear after he’d showered.
The smell of coffee hit him as soon as he stepped into the hallway. God bless Sarah, for all her backchat and wicked sense of humor. She always knew what he needed, usually before he even thought about it.
Connor waited in the doorway of his bedroom and surveyed the empty bed. There was a slight dent in the pillow, but the sheets were barely wrinkled. He frowned and let his gaze scan over his apparently deserted room.
A flicker of movement caught his eye and he focused on a patch of shadows between his drawers and wardrobe. She’d balled herself into the fetal position, and her slight frame was easy to hide. Even from here, Connor could see her skin shudder, what little flesh she had left quiver.
“Jenna?”
At the sound of his voice, her head snapped up and whipped around. Her luminous green eyes were almost swollen shut from weeping and her tears had made tracks through the dirt on her face.
“Oh baby,” he sighed and walked toward her. His heart sagged a little for the child so obviously buried in the body of the woman as she cowered against the wall, trapped in the corner. He held out his hand and waited. “Come to me, Jenna. You remember me. You know what I promised you. Trust me.”
Her hand crept toward him, then jerked back. He half expected her to stick a thumb in her mouth and suck on it. Instead, she chewed on a knuckle for a few moments before extending her hand out to him properly, her fingers trembling.
Patiently, Connor bided his time until her cold hand pressed into his. “Why the hell are you down here on the floor, baby? You’d be so much warmer in the bed.”
