Playing With Fire (Tangled in Texas #2) - Alison Bliss Page 0,118
desperately yelling Cowboy’s name. The nurse called after me, but I ignored her. Why would he say such a thing after everything we’d been through together? Had he been telling the truth about him and Mandy, after all? Had there been something between them?
As I made it to the end of the hallway, I was only vaguely aware of the hospital security guard behind me, chasing after me. He tackled me to the ground and held me there, while I fought against him, still screaming Cowboy’s name until my throat burned and I choked on my coughs. Tears streamed down my face.
It isn’t true. It isn’t.
Moments later, a doctor showed up wielding a syringe and stuck me in the arm. Within seconds, my strength weakened, my vision blurred, and my screams quieted. The last thing I remembered was everything going black.
I rapped lightly on the outside of the office door.
“Go away,” Cowboy said from the other side. “I’m busy.”
He might have left the hospital without saying a word, and avoided me for the last two days, but he wasn’t going to easily dismiss me now, not without facing me one last time. He owed me that much at least. So I pushed the door open.
Cowboy was sitting at the desk, but stood up with a dizzying speed. “Goddamnit. I said I was—” He blinked, looking much like he didn’t know what to say, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Um, hey.”
I stood at the door in a white sundress, twisting my fingers together nervously, not really sure how to respond, either. It was a moment I’d been dreading for days. Ever since I’d come to and was told Cowboy had checked himself out of the hospital early, against medical advice.
“Hi,” I said, my voice coming out much weaker than I meant for it to.
“What are you doing here?” The sound of his cool tone gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I mean, are you well enough to be out of the hospital?”
Guess we’re going to make small talk. Fine.
“I’m all right.” I gifted him a halfhearted smile, which was much more than the bastard deserved. “I tire a little easier right now since I’m still recovering from the smoke inhalation, but I’m managing.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.”
There was a moment of awkward silence, so I gazed across the room at something that caught my attention. Worn helmets lined the wall on display like some kind of shrine. “Why are all these firemen helmets different colors?”
“Each color stands for a different rank.” He walked over to the old, battered helmets lined up in a uniform row. “Black is for the regular crew and trainees, red is for the lieutenant, yellow is for the captain, and white is reserved only for the chief.”
“That’s right. I remember seeing your yellow captain’s helmet in your truck the night you gave me a ride home after the library fire.”
He looked down somberly, as if that was the last thing he wanted to think about. Or maybe remembering how this whole thing started between us was what bothered him. Lord knows he hadn’t been by to check on me after disappearing from the hospital two days ago.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Cowboy had left me completely in the dark as to what went wrong between us. No explanation at all. That’s why I was here now. To ask him what happened. Problem was, I couldn’t seem to do it.
He’d obviously made his decision to end things between us that day in the hospital when he refused to see me. Then he left me alone in the hospital and didn’t return, as if we hadn’t shared anything special between us. Like I meant nothing to him. So the least he could do was explain himself.
“I’m glad you stopped by,” he said.
My brows lifted as my eyes met his. “Really?”
“Anna, I…I meant to come see you.”
“Guess you were too busy.”
He shook his head and rubbed at his neck. “I’ve just been thinking about things.”
“Things?”
“Us, I mean. You and me.”
I squinted at him in confusion. “What was there to think about?”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is…” He hesitated, as if he were trying to predict the outcome of what he was about to say. Just say it already. “I’ve come to the conclusion I don’t want to be one of those housetrained men.”
I stiffened at his remark. “Housetrained? I don’t think I follow you.”