Armored Hearts (The Town of Pearl 7)

cked the dirt and headed straight for the shed, pulling the jacket snugger against his chest with thoughts of his private stock of whiskey.

* * * *

India immediately knew that she wasn’t in her own bed or in the hospital bed. She had wondered if she had been dreaming about the men Dmitri told her would be protecting her and caring for her. They seemed so dark and angry when they looked her in the eyes. It made her feel ugly, unimportant, and a real burden. When she felt the surge of anger it immediately exhausted her. She didn’t want to take the damn pain meds but she needed them or she would cry, and something told her not to cry, complain, or act affected in front of these big men. The little time she was able to stay awake to drink a shake, she saw that two of the men always wore camo pants. They looked fierce, untrusting, and all business. They were definitely not from Chicago.

She blinked her eyes open best she could and felt the instant ache to her eye socket. She moaned and then felt the pain in her dry, swollen lips and of course her jaw. She didn’t dare move an inch on the bed or the excruciating pain in her ribs would make her cry out or worse, pass out. She had no choice but to take those painkillers. She had to use a bathroom, and more importantly, she needed to bathe.

She asked the one guy, Fisher, to give her half a pill so she could try to shower. But the last thing she remembered was the feel of muscles as he carried her down the hallway and the expression on the other guy’s face. But that also seemed like a dream. Maybe it never happened. It must be the drugs.

“Hey, you’re awake.” She heard the deep voice and turned too quickly.

“Ouch,” she said and Fisher’s eye brows crunched up as he approached quickly. Fisher. He was one of the men watching over her.

She noticed the law enforcement uniform. A star for a badge, a gun, and a white dress shirt. Law enforcement? Had something gone wrong? Why would law enforcement be helping a friend who was involved with the Russian mob? She suddenly felt scared like maybe she didn’t belong here. Maybe these weren’t the men who were supposed to watch over her.

“Maybe a drink of water might help,” he suggested as he held a glass of water with a straw in it toward her.

The sound of someone else entering the room drew her attention as she debated what to do. What could she do? She was injured, couldn’t even walk on her own, never mind sit up in this damn bed without help. She felt like she had gotten run over by a truck.

Then she saw the guy named Grey. He was wearing a uniform, too. A different one. Her eyes were blurry as she felt the tears emerge.

“Whoa, it’s okay. We’re going to take good care of you, darling. You just relax and take a sip of this water,” Fisher told her. He had such a deep, hard voice, it made her shake, but she needed a sip of water. Her throat felt so dry and her lips sore.

She took the sip as she leaned forward, cringing from the small movement. Maybe she just needed to force herself to get up and move around?

“There you go,” Fisher said and gave a soft semismile.

She stared at their uniforms and debated about what to say. As if they read her train of thought, Grey spoke up first. “We’re the good guys, darling. We’ve known your brother Silas for years. I’m a deputy with the local sheriff’s department, here in Pearl.”

“I’m a Ranger, hence the uniform,” Fisher said and held her gaze, still appearing annoyed, and maybe angry.

She felt intimidated to say the least.

“What day is it?” she asked and tried adjusting her position on the bed. As she moved she caught a whiff of body odor and felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. She stunk.

“You’ve been here for just about two weeks come tomorrow,” Grey said as he joined her on the other side of the bed.

“Two weeks? Oh God. I’m really messed up. It felt like two days. I don’t remember anything.” She sighed as she tried sitting up again. How could she stay sleeping on and off for two weeks? Did she get up to use the bathroom? Had she eaten? How could it all be a blur?

“Don’t freak out about not remembering anything. We took care of you, guided you,” Grey told her.

“Oh God, how embarrassing,” she whispered and sunk lower onto the bed. Then came the thoughts of what she needed to do. She shouldn’t take the painkillers. They messed her up good. What if these men touched her? How the hell could she forget if she even went to the bathroom or not?

As painful as she knew it was going to be, she needed a shower and she needed one badly. She was not a woman to ever let herself go and she sure wasn’t going to let broken ribs and battered body parts stop her from feeling fresh and clean, and especially in front of a bunch of men.

“I think I need a shower,” she whispered in a very hoarse voice. She felt her throat ache now and remembered how Iakov had held her by her throat and shook her. She closed her eyes and willed the thoughts away.

“Maybe a bath would be better? Soaking could heal the muscles and relax them, plus in the shower, with your injuries, you’ll never be able to wash your own hair and body. At least soaking in the tub can do the trick for now,” Grey told her.

She gulped just thinking about getting in and out of the tub.

“I don’t think I can do that.” She felt the tear roll down her cheek the moment the thought of bending, stretching, and then trying to get up out of the tub went through her mind. She had no control over it. The tear just escaped on its own. She definitely was weak.

Both men looked uncomfortable and she felt the ache to her gut and quickly she recovered from showing these two men how weak she felt.

“Maybe you should just hose me down out back.”

Grey smiled but Fisher let his eyes roam over her body before he replied. It gave her the chills and made her nipples harden. What the hell?