Chapter 32 Pretty in Pink
2120 Words
Chapter 32
Pretty in Pink
*** ***
Louise
The elevator door dinged open. Tyrone stood before me. When we locked gazes, his green eyes flashed a deep wolf-black. “Louise…! What are you doing here alone?”
“That’s none of your business!” Shaking my head, I wheeled myself out of the elevator and down the corridor. I wanted to get to bed and stay there until I was well enough to go home. I also needed to confront Raine and Jo. They never came to my rescue, even after their promise! Instead, they had sent that Beta into Joseph’s arms! Promises are never kept!
“Wait, Louise,” Tyrone hurried behind me. “You shouldn’t be doing that by yourself!”
“Leave me alone!” Sneering at him, I continued past, ignoring his offer.
“Stop,” he demanded. The wheelchair slowed and then halted beneath me.
“Let me go!” I shouted as he stood before me. If I had the energy to stand, I would have shoved him out of my way. “I want to be left alone!”
“Hold on,” Tyrone said as he reached for my top.
“Stop!” I hissed, shoving his hand away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t move,” Tyrone hushed, his tone deep and worrisome. He knelt before me and carefully reached for my shirt again. “I’m not trying to scare you, but you’re bleeding!”
“What!” I glanced down to see a patch of deep red blood spreading through my red top, creating a gory sight. A gasp hitched in the back of my throat. I froze. “How?”
“I’m going to carry you to the room and get Doctor Anderson,” he whispered calmly as he stood.
I didn’t protest. I couldn’t. I was too afraid that the bleeding would worsen.
He scooped me into his arms. “It’s going to be okay,” cradling me, he pressed me against his chest. “I’ll mind-link the doc now...”
My tears formed and grew with each hasty step he made towards the room. This is all Joseph’s fault!
When we arrived, Doc Anderson was waiting in the room, and Raine and Jo were gone. He wore white scrubs, and a pair of rubber gloves hung over his medical bag on the table beside the bed. He gestured to the bed where he had laid a protective sheet. “Tyrone, put Louise on the bed, please...”
“Sure, doc...” Tyrone carefully laid me on my back. His eyes softened as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “It’s going to be okay…”
“T-Thank you,” I stuttered between sobs, grateful for his help. The pain was growing. What have I done? And where were Raine and Jo?
“Louise,” Doc Anderson lifted my top just above the bandage. “It looks like you’ve pulled out a few stitches. But on a good note, it looks worse than it is. I’ll give you a local anaesthetic and check them, okay? If we need to, I’ll replace them.”
“Okay,” I sucked back a wince.
As the doctor slid on his gloves, I braced myself against the bed, gripping the edges until my knuckles went white. He removed the bandages, and I finally saw the labyrinth of patchwork keeping my remaining insides–inside.
“Ouch,” I hissed as a sharp pinch jolted the left side of my stomach above my hip. A cold sensation flowed over me.
Doc Anderson pulled the needle back out. “It will only take a few minutes.”
“Don’t look at it,” Tyrone said, stepping up to my free side. He pried my hand from the bed and held it in his. “Focus on something else …”
I turned away, but as Doc Anderson cleaned the blood, I saw the clarity of the line across my pelvis. It was long and thin. Gaps were forming where the black stitches had separated. What had looked like patchwork was the horrible patches of yellowing deep purple bruises. The doctor had been right. It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I had pictured.
“Look at me…” Tyrone offered. He squeezed my hand. “Talk to me…”
I tilted my head slightly so I could see him. “A-about what?”
A sharp tug at my midriff drew my attention back to Doc Anderson. I gritted my teeth as he poked and prodded, removing the broken stitches. Thick lines of concentration were etched deep into the corner of his eyes.
“Remember when we were about eight or nine,” Tyrone said, caressing my hand.
He waited for me to meet his gaze and then smiled at me in a way that defined the chiselled outline of his jaw. I had to blink back the surprise. His entire body was different–solid and powerful, his arms rippled and full of muscle. His smooth, pale skin accented the line of his collarbone. Had he always looked that beautiful?
“My mum was babysitting you…” He continued, pulling me back to reality. “The twins would have been about seven… Anyway, we snuck into Mum’s wardrobe and stole her costume makeup and those two bright pink show dresses?”
“Oh, my Goddess…” I half-laughed as the memory replayed. My face started to flush. “I remember that…”
“Who do you think looked the prettiest in pink?” He asked. His laughter followed, light and carefree–like him. At that moment, it was rubbing off on me.
“You, definitely,” I chuckled softly. “But I know my makeup was by far the best... Clowns were the in thing back then, right?”
“I don’t think they were ever in, but you made it work,” his laughter softened, pulling my hand up to his lips and kissed them.
A heat ran from my fingers down my arm and pooled in my stomach. I didn’t pull away. The warm caress of his breath against my skin created and tingled in places his touch had never done before.
“And I thought you were the prettiest…” He whispered, his breath tickling my skin. “And I still do…”
I opened my mouth to speak but instead did the best impersonation of a fish out of water.
“Done,” Doc Anderson said as he stood back up and removed his bloodied gloves. I was thankful for the interruption. “No more wheeling yourself around the hospital. And don’t go anywhere on your own until it’s healed.”
My hand trembled in Tyrone’s as I glanced down. Now that everything was safely concealed behind the bandage, I breathed a skipped sigh of relief, inhaling the rich metallic scent of blood. I desperately needed to change my top.
“Thank you,” I replied, slipping my hand free.
Doc Anderson cleaned up his medical supplies and placed his bag to the side. He turned to me and studied me with fatherly eyes. “Why were you by yourself? I thought Joseph was with you.”
“He was...” I hissed between clenched teeth. The mere mention of him angered me again. “But he left…”
Shaking his head, Doc Anderson sighed disappointedly. “And here I thought …” He trailed off.
I attempted to sit, but Tyrone pinned me back down. “Wait a bit longer.”
“He’s right,” Doc Anderson warned. “Let the feeling come back first.”
“But I need to change.” I groaned, peering down at my top. “I feel gross.”
He patted the back of my head softly. “Let your body regain its feeling. Then you can change… Okay?”
“Fine,” I rolled my eyes, and he breathed a chuckle.
“If there’s anything else, just summon; like magic, I will appear.” Doc Anderson spun around on his heels and headed for the door. He paused and then peered over at me. “I mind-linked your mum. She should be here soon.”
“Thank you,” I called after him as he left the room.
“Let me grab you something to change into,” Tyrone offered, picking up my overnight bag and placing it on the chair beside me.
“No… I can do that.” My cheeks flushed as he reached for the zip.
“It’s fine,” he said, pulling the zip open and taking out a light pink shirt. It’s just clothes… Besides,” he held it across his chest. Isn’t pink more my colour?”
Now I was laughing, and it was starting to hurt. “Ouch, the feeling’s coming back.”
“Good,” grinning, he handed me the top. “Want me to turn around?”
“Yes,” I pleaded. “I’m not eight years old anymore.”
“And I’m not ten,” he winked at me.
My face could not go any redder. “Why are you helping me so much?”
He stared at me questioningly. “I always have…”
“Since when?” I grabbed the bed remote and slowly raised the top of the bed. “We stopped hanging out a while ago. And until the party the other night, it has been months.” I pointed at him and spun my finger.
“What do you mean?” He obliged by turning his back to me. He visually shivered, “That day on your birthday…”
“Yeah, I know which day,” I groaned as I slid the blood-soaked top over my head. It was tedious, but I got the pink top on and rolled it down. “The birthday I want to forget– forever.”
“It wasn’t all bad,” Tyrone ran his fingers through his hair, making it fall over his ears. Solid muscles rippled across his shoulder blades. I couldn't take my eyes off him. “Don’t you remember some of the good things? Like my mama singing Happy Birthday… Lorraine knocking the drinks table over… The twins were arguing over who won the pin the tail on the donkey… And me…”
“You can look now...”
Tyrone spun around. His cheeks had brightened to a hue of brilliant pink. “Do you remember the moment I carried you to the ambulance?” He was beside me now. I could see his chest rising and falling under his black singlet.
“I remember everything, but not that.” I squinted up at him, seeing him in a different light. “How could I forget something like that?”
“You were in a lot of pain…”
“I’ll say,” I scratched my forehead. He had helped me back then… rescued me from the party... saved me today... How is he always in the right place at the right time? “You’ve helped me a lot.”
“I told you I was always there…” Tyrone perched on the bed beside me. Staring at me, he reached over and took my hand. “Louise,” he fiddled with my fingers, sending heat waves to my stomach. “Why did Joseph leave?”
“Because he’s a jerk!” The anger rose from my chest, washing away the calm. “And I’m a gullible fool.”
“I never…” he trailed off.
“You never?”
“I never thought someone like him would leave someone like you.”
“What?” I laughed sarcastically. “He’s a hot-headed Alpha, and I’m a sickly Omega… Of course, he would!”
He scoured at me. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then explain…”
“I-I…” his shoulders sagged. “I can’t. It’s not up to me to interfere with an Alpha’s relationships.”
I laughed again.
He smirked at me. “What is so funny?”
Slowly, I leaned closer and placed my hand on his shoulder. “It’s funny that you think there was a relationship. He has a mate—a Beta girl I met in the park.”
Tyrone’s eyes flew open. “But he–and then he–” He shook his head. “I was not expecting that!”
“Why?”
His eyes softened as he placed his hands over mine. “It doesn’t matter… as long as you’re okay.”
“I will be ... I’m a fighter, remember?”
- Writer
