Wrecking Beauty Page 14

  Addison felt her eyes closing, aware that Cutler was still watching her face. She traced her finger across his palm, feeling his rough skin. It felt familiar, comforting. She drifted off to sleep.

  When she woke up, she smiled, realizing she was still in Cutler's bedroom. She looked toward the window, and by the warmer light and angle of the light shining through, she could tell the sun was setting. She must have slept for a few hours at least.

  She glanced at the bedside table next to her. The soup was gone, but he'd set a full glass of water there. The bedroom door was closed. She sat up, careful not to put any weight on her right arm. She leaned against the headboard and pulled the sheet down to her mid-thigh. She saw she was wearing Cutler’s Metallica t-shirt and nothing else. He must have undressed and redressed her.

  Pulling the neckline down gingerly, she saw her shoulder was covered with gauze. The bandage wrapped over her shoulder and down her arm. She could see more gauze around her upper left thigh just at the top of the sheet. A spot of blood was just visible under the wrapping. She frowned. Had she been to the hospital? She vaguely remembered that Cutler had referred to her as someone’s patient earlier, but her mind felt a little fuzzy.

  She slowly swung her legs onto the floor. She reached for the glass of water with her left hand and drank the rest of it quickly. She took a deep breath and looked around. Cutler’s room felt so cozy to her. A soft laugh carried from the living room through the wall. She stood up carefully, keeping her weight on her right leg. Now that it wasn’t covered by the sheet, she noticed her left ankle looked a little swollen, too. Her left leg began to throb now that she was upright.

  She hobbled over slowly to the bedroom door. She turned the knob and opened it. Greyson, Ajax, and the woman she saw earlier were sitting around the living room. She shyly pulled on the hem of the t-shirt.

  “Hi,” she said, pushing the door open a little wider.

  Their heads snapped toward the door in surprise.

  “Addison! You shouldn’t be out of bed!” she heard Cutler say, and she looked up to see him standing by the fridge, frowning at her.

  He put the beer in his hand down on the counter and rushed over to her.

  “Cutler, I’ve never thought of you as a mother hen,” Ajax laughed.

  “Do you need anything? I can bring it to you,” Cutler whispered to Addison, ignoring Ajax.

  “No, no, I’m fine,” Addison smiled at him. “I just thought I heard you out here and wanted to come find you.”

  “Here, Addison, take my seat,” Greta said, standing up from the couch. She saw Addison’s look of confusion, and added, “I’m Greta, we met earlier...I love your accent.”

  “I’m sorry, of course. Greta,” Addison replied. “Thank you.”

  Greta stood and moved across from the couch and sat on the carpet, leaning against the TV stand. Cutler wrapped his arm around Addison’s waist and supported her under her right arm, guiding her to the couch. He eased her down and sat next to her on the middle cushion.

  “Greta is the one who took care of you,” Cutler added. Addison smiled at her.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t remember your name, I feel a little woozy.”

  “I’m not surprised, after what you went through. I’d like to look at your bandages in a little bit, and probably change them. And here, take these,” she said, reaching into her purse for a pill bottle and tossing them to Cutler. “Painkillers,” she explained to Addison’s raised eyebrows. “I’m an RN, so while it’s not strictly legal, I do know what you can take two of those every four hours.”

  Cutler rose to retrieve Addison’s water from the bedroom, and crossed into the kitchen to refill it. She was surprised to realize that she felt his absence immediately. He returned and sat next to her, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch and covering her bare legs. He popped out two of the pills into his palm and handed them to Addison. She knocked them back into her mouth, and he handed her the water. She glanced at Greyson, and saw that he was gaping at Cutler. She looked at Cutler and was shocked to see that he blushed as he leaned back on the couch.

  “Glad to see you’re OK, Addison,” Ajax said, breaking the silence.

  “Thanks to all of you,” she said, looking around to the group. She saw a light blue sling poking out from underneath Greyson’s jacket, which was thrown over his shoulder on one side. “Oh no, are you all right? Was that because of me?”

  “No, it was because of that massive prick Owen Devlin and some Russian dudes. Besides, it’s only a flesh wound. I’ve had much worse,” Greyson retorted.

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t go back to bed?” Cutler prodded her.

  “I’m OK, honestly. I’m happy to be around people.” She smiled around the room, trying to prove she was up to being out of bed.

  “I like your coffee table, Cutler,” Greta said, tapping it lightly with her toes. “Where’d you get it?”

  Cutler shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, um, I made it,” he muttered.

  “You made that?!” Ajax said, standing up from the couch and kneeling by the table to admire it.

  “You haven’t seen any of his pieces before?” Addison asked.

  “Pieces, there's more?” Greyson asked incredulously. Cutler groaned.

  “Oh, no, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to say anything. I just assumed you’d…” Addison trailed off.

  “We’ve never even been in this house before! Cutler’s a tough guy to get to know,” Ajax exclaimed, running his hand over the glass top of the table.

  Addison frowned. She didn’t think he was hard to get to know at all. Actually, she felt like she knew him intimately after only a few days. She laid her hand on Cutler’s thigh just above his knee, giving him a quick squeeze.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “It’s OK,” he sighed. “It was bound to get out eventually. You should eat before that painkiller knocks you out. Is a sandwich all right?”

  Addison nodded at him, smiling. It felt so nice to be surrounded by friends. She’d always been so isolated with Owen. Cutler got up and moved to the kitchen. She heard him rummaging through cabinets a minute later.

  “So Addison, what do you think you’ll do now?” Greyson asked, he looked serious.

  “Sorry?” Addison asked.

  “Do you think you’ll go back to school?”

  “Oh,” Addison said, frowning. “I hadn’t thought about it yet.” She realized Cutler’s movements had gotten much quieter behind her in the kitchen. She didn’t know what to say. She felt more at home here than she’d ever felt at school. The only person she’d really known there was Owen, anyway. But did Cutler even want her to stay?

  She looked up as he appeared next to her with a chicken sandwich on a plate. She couldn’t figure out what his expression was. He handed her the plate, and sat down next to her. She took half of it in her left hand and started eating. It felt awkward holding it in her weaker hand.

  She sat back and ate quietly, enjoying hearing Ajax and Greyson debate the pros and cons of the new Harley-Davidson street bikes. Greta seemed to know an awful lot about motorcycles too, and every now and then Cutler would chime in, though he seemed a little lost in thought about something.

  She quickly finished her sandwich and took a long sip of water, then lay her head on Cutler’s broad shoulder, her eyes drooping.

  “Why don’t I take a look at those bandages before you pass out?” she heard Greta ask, and opened her eyes to see everyone looking at her. Addison nodded, yawning.

  Cutler stood, and tucking the blanket under her legs, he easily scooped her up into a cradle hold and walked into the bedroom. He laid her onto the bed gently and kissed her softly on the forehead. He walked out, passing Greta in the doorway. He squeezed her shoulder, and Greta smiled up at him. She walked into the bedroom, carrying a small plastic toolbox with her and sat on the edge of the bed next to Addison.

  “Cutler seems pretty taken with you,” she said quietly, as she pulled on a pair
of latex gloves.

  “Yeah? I guess I don’t have much to compare his behavior to,” Addison replied shyly.

  “Hmm, would you mind taking this shirt off? I want to get a good look at that shoulder.” She stood up and closed the door, then returned to stand next to the bed. “I won’t look,” she added smiling. “Just don’t lift up that right arm.”

  Greta took the bottom of Addison’s shirt, then looked up at the ceiling.

  “Something tells me you saw most of this earlier,” Addison said wryly, as she held up her left arm, and Greta slowly pulled her shirt up and off her head.

  “Well, Cutler was very protective of you. He didn’t leave your side. You just caught him on a bathroom break when you first woke up,” Greta said.

  Addison pulled the blanket over her legs up over her breasts. “I’m covered,” she reported.

  Greta opened her eyes and carefully slipped the t-shirt down Addison’s injured right arm and over her hand, then sat next to her. She slowly peeled the tape off Addison’s shoulder. Addison turned her head to examine the wound. It was just outside her shoulder joint, and she saw with surprise that there was a line of stitches running up it.

  “Stitches?”

  “Yeah, I gave you some local anesthesia. It was a pretty deep cut, though not as bad as the one on your leg. They’ll drop out on their own when they’re ready. Don’t get them wet until then. This one looks good. No signs of infection yet.” She took out a new piece of gauze and taped it back onto Addison’s arm, gently picking up her arm and wrapping the tape around it. “How did you get these?” she asked carefully, as she picked up Addison’s hand and unwrapped the tape around her finger.

  Addison swallowed hard. “My ex-fiancé, actually. Owen Devlin.” Greta nodded, focused on her finger. “You don’t seem that surprised.”

  “We met,” Greta said, as she pulled off the gauze over Addison’s middle finger. Addison grimaced when she saw the wound. Her fingernail was falling off, and the skin around it was red, purple, and angry. “You’ll probably lose this fingernail, but they grow back.”

  “You met?” Addison asked, frowning.

  “Yeah, he’s...pretty unpleasant.” Greta glanced up, meeting Addison’s gaze, unsure of how much she knew. “My boyfriend is in the Reapers.”

  “Ah. I guess I don’t have very good judgment when it comes to choosing men. That mechanism in me seems to be broken.”

  Greta rewrapped Addison’s finger and moved to her thigh, pulling up the blanket so that it covered her crotch, but left her legs bare. There was a spot of blood a couple inches wide visible through the gauze on her thigh wound. Greta found the edge of the tape wrapped around her leg, and began to unwrap it, propping up Addison’s knee slightly so that she could pass the tape from hand to hand as she unwrapped it.

  She reached the end of the tape and pulled the gauze off of the cut. Addison winced as the gauze stuck slightly to her skin. She was glad she’d had the pain killers. Greta balled up the tape and set it on the end of the bed. She leaned over into the toolbox and pulled out an antibiotic swab in a foil packet. She ripped it off, and gently swabbed the wound.

  Addison leaned forward to see the damage to her leg. She felt a wave of queasiness as she saw the long cut up her left leg, midway between her knee and crotch, and a couple inches inside. It was sewn up with a number of stitches, and it felt strange to see the black thread weaving through her skin.

  Greta glanced up at her, reading her expression. “This one will take the longest to heal, as you can probably guess. But I’m sure Cutler will take good care of you,” she added, smiling.

  “Will he?” Addison asked quietly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, like I said, when it comes to men, my judgment is pretty awful, and I haven’t known him long at all.”

  “Dallas, my boyfriend, has always spoken of him with a…begrudging admiration, let’s say. And he’s never mentioned him having a serious girlfriend or anything. And I have to say, I’ve been impressed with him over the last couple days. He's been dedicated to you, to say the least.”

  Addison straightened a little at the mention of Dallas’s name, but she was sure there was something Cutler hadn’t told her if he was allowing Greta in his place.

  Greta finished cleaning the wound and gently patted gauze over the stitches, then picked up a roll of tape and began winding it around her leg. Addison relaxed. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of her like Greta and Cutler were now. It was usually her taking care of everyone else. Particularly Owen.

  “Hey, do you know if they still have one of those prepaid phones around?” Addison asked as Greta cut the end of the tape and tapped it down. “It would be long-distance…I just want to let my parents know I’m OK.”

  Greta smiled up at her. “Sure. Let me find one for you.” She stood, packing up her supplies and carrying them out with her. Addison heard a hushed conversation from the living room, and Greta returned a minute later with a cell phone and handed it to Addison.

  “Cutler said there are plenty of minutes left.”

  “Thanks. And Greta, if I can ever do anything for you, name it. Truly.”

  Greta turned at the door and winked at her, then shut the door behind her to give Addison some privacy.

  Addison first dialed 44 011, England’s international code, then dialed her parents’ home number. She pushed the blanket back down so it covered her legs, as the phone began to ring. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to say to them. She heard a click as the voicemail picked up. She didn’t know if she was relieved or sorry that she couldn’t speak to them directly. It was possible they didn’t even know she was gone.

  “Hello, it’s the Delaneys. We’re not here right now, but please leave a message and we’ll call you back.” Her mother’s voice sounded so comforting and yet so far away. Addison swallowed back the tears that threatened to rise.

  “Hi Mum, hi Dad. I’m sorry if you haven’t been able to reach me for a little while, and I hope you haven’t been worried. I’m all right. I’m not at school anymore though, and I don’t know if I will be anytime soon. I don’t want you to worry.” Shoot, she was rambling. She tried to gather her thoughts. “The truth is I haven’t been happy there for a while anyway. Things with Owen weren’t good…they were bad, actually, really, really bad. He wasn’t the man I thought he was at all. And maybe I was only there in the first place to please you anyway. Not that I’m blaming you—I don’t want you to think that at all. I know you were just trying to do what was best for me. I just need to do something for myself right now, and see where it takes me. OK? But I promise I will call you and let you know I’m all right. I love you both so much.”

  She heard the beep of the voicemail and the phone line went dead. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she pressed End on the cell phone and placed it on the bedside table. She looked up as the door opened a crack and Cutler peeked in.

  “You can come in,” she called out.

  “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt while you were talking to your parents, but I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”

  “I’m OK. I just left a message. They must be out.”

  Cutler stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, then came and sat tentatively next to Addison. She looked up at him and gently rubbed the worry line between his eyebrows.

  “I was worried about you,” he whispered, his eyes full of anxiety.

  “I was worried about you, too,” she whispered back. “Dallas?” she asked, searchingly.

  “They had Greta hostage. Who knows what they would have done to her if he hadn’t helped them.”

  Addison shivered. “She’s so strong.”

  “So are you,” Cutler said, gently taking her right hand and running his finger over the bandage. “Do you need anything?”

  “No,” Addison said smiling. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I just need to go back to sleep.”

  “O
K,” Cutler said, rising. “Let me set these pillows up for you.”

  He put a hand at her back and leaned her forward as he pushed the pillows down, then gently picked her up and deposited her lower on the bed so she could lie down.

  “We’ll keep it down in the other room,” he said as he covered her with the bed sheet.

  “S’okay. I don’t think anything could wake me up right now,” Addison said yawning as the painkillers started really clouding her mind.

  Cutler smiled shyly back at her as he shut the door behind him.

  As Addison drifted off into a deep sleep, she felt the sensation of falling into a dark hole. She felt her mind slip into a dream, as though she were partly conscious. She knew she was dreaming, but couldn’t control anything. She walked through the darkness toward a brightly lit room. She couldn’t figure out where the light was coming from, but it was harsh and humming, like it came from invisible fluorescent bulbs.

  She approached the room, which had two walls, like it was out of a film set. As she got closer, she realized it was a nursery, but it was bare and unfriendly. The walls were a cold, light blue, and an empty rocking chair sat in the corner across from a white wooden crib. She warily walked up to the crib as though she were drawn to it. She wanted to halt the progression of her legs, but they kept her moving forward against her will. She finally stood next to the crib, and with an all-consuming sense of dread, she peered into the bassinet. It was empty. She sighed, relieved.

  Suddenly, she heard a creak from behind her. She turned around sharply and jumped back against the wood slats of the crib in fear. A man was sitting in the rocking chair, but he had no face. Where his features should have been, smooth skin stretched over and was topped by closely cropped salt and pepper hair.