Broken by His Hand - Piper Stone Page 0,50

hell to think. While the roses were still beautiful, at least two dozen of them, their petals were obsidian black. I might not be an expert on what the color of flowers meant, but black certainly indicated death in my book.

It took me a full thirty seconds before I bothered to look for a card. The same plain white envelope was followed by another calligraphy written note, one that was intriguing as hell.

Change can bring joy, but pain must be endured.

I’m sorry for your loss...

My loss? The words were cryptic even for a man like Michael. I studied the writing, the beautiful cursive flow of artistry that few people used any longer. No, he’d hired someone to write the words. And what the hell did they mean? Change. There was no way he could know about the job unless... He called the hospital. Maybe he’d decided to give me some time by not contacting me again.

A part of me was pissed off and I wasn’t certain why. We weren’t in some kind of relationship. He certainly didn’t owe me anything. I found a larger vase and arranged the flowers, grumbling the entire time. At least they didn’t have thorns this time. A bonus. I moved the vase to the table, placing them next to the other dozen.

When I heard the doorbell, I tensed. I hated unannounced visitors, especially since I’d returned in the same clothes from the day before. Folding my arms, I walked toward the door, regretting the fact I didn’t have a peephole.

“What happened?” I gasped, reaching out for Michael, who was leaning against the door, a pained look on his face. There were scratches covering his cheek, a single gash likely unattended to.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Were you in a fight? Come inside.”

While he allowed me to pull him inside, he leaned against the wall, gripping my arms. “Where were you?”

I glanced at his hand and frowned. Another gash appeared on his palm. “With a girlfriend. What the hell happened to you? And why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“There was no need. You should have called me.” Wincing, he was favoring his chest as well as his arm.

“I didn’t want to be disturbed. It was a rough day at the hospital, but then you must know that already. Now, I am your damn doctor, even though you seem to forget that. You are going to let me attend to your wounds. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

He studied me intently, his eyes boring into mine as they did on the day in the hospital. “I thought you were no longer my doctor.”

“Nice try.” I pulled him into the bathroom, forcing him to sit on the edge of the counter. “Can you take your shirt off?”

“It’s not necessary.”

“I’ll cut it off and I’m not kidding you, Michael. Only days ago you were in a major car accident. Do I need to remind you that your heart stopped? Take off your damn jacket as well as your shirt.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I made a face as I turned toward the linen closet. I kept enough medical supplies that I would be able to tend to any flesh wound. However, that wasn’t what I was worried about. When I turned around, I groaned. Someone had done a piss poor job of bandaging his shoulder, blood soaking through the thin bandage.

After placing everything on the counter, I moved toward his shoulder, peeling away the cheap tape and exposing the wound. At least the blood had clotted. “A gunshot. If you don’t tell me what the hell is going on, I’m going to pick up the phone and call the police.”

“Don’t do that, Sophia.”

“Why?” I asked as I yanked the phone from my pocket, holding it in front of him. “There’s something you haven’t told me, isn’t there? What are you mixed up in, Michael? I was told you were dangerous, possibly even a ruthless killer. Is that what you want me to believe?”

Michael’s eyes opened wide as he looked at me, a wry smile curling across his mouth. “I already told you I was dangerous, Sophia. You should have believed me before.”

“You’ve tried so damn hard to make me believe you’re some bad ass when you’re the one who was shot.”

“It’s just a flesh wound. I was able to take a nosedive to avoid the brunt of it.” His damn eyes twinkled in amusement as he held up his scraped hands.

“This isn’t funny. Not even a little bit.”

“No, you’re right that it