Filed to story: Sinful Mates (Imogen) Book by Jessica Hall
I just nod and eat the lasagna. Tom waits for me to finish and takes the container for me. I decide to wait for him to head back inside before I pack the car up. Turning the car on, I check the fuel. The fuel light is on. My next best option is the storage locker. The compound is pretty large, and I might just ask the locker company if I can store my car there. I know it will cost an extra forty dollars a week, but what choice do I have? That will leave me twenty-seven dollars a week to live off. It will be tight, but I can survive on that.
I remind myself this is only temporary, that I can do this for the next couple years. Pulling out of the garage, I drive the couple blocks to the storage locker parking just inside the compound behind the gates. Getting out, I make my way to my locker.
Maneuvering and restacking half the storage locker, I make enough room that I can use my blankets to make a makeshift sleeping quarters. At least this won’t be as cramped as the car. My only concern is being crushed to death by falling boxes and furniture. Grabbing my washing bucket, I make my way out to my car, grabbing my dirty laundry. I fill the bucket and go to a nearby tap and fill the bucket with cold water. I found my shampoo at least. I’m out of laundry powder, but it’s easier to wash clothes in the shampoo anyway. At least I don’t have to scrub so hard to make the crystals dissolve.
I go back to my storage locker, pull the door down behind me, and hand scrub my clothes before hanging them on coat hangers along the wall where the fire sprinklers hang in case there’s fire, using it as a makeshift clothesline. Unfortunately, there’s no saving the camisole. The bloody garment won’t return to white no matter how hard I scrub, the blood has set.
I take the bucket back out and empty it on the grass. Sensing eyes on me, I glance up and come eye to eye with the stray. I can’t help the gasp and the involuntary jump back. Rolling my eyes at my foolish reaction, I call him over. “How did you find me?” I ask. Of course, he doesn’t answer. I pet his head before standing up. “Come on then,” I say, patting my leg trying to get him to follow. He tilts his head to the side and his ears perk up before he follows after.
The weekend passes by in a blur. I remain for the most part inside my storage locker, only leaving occasionally to stretch my legs. The stray came and went but would always come back at night, which I was always happy to see. Although he took up most of my makeshift bed, he acted like a hot water bottle. His temperature was always hot like he had a fever. I just put it down to the fact he’s an oversized dog and all the fur makes him warmer than usual.
When Monday morning comes I get dressed and lift the roller door. The stray runs off. I assume he needs to pee, only he doesn’t return before I have to leave. Walking through the woods that back the park, I make my way to the entrance of Kane and Madden Industries. Tom waits outside for me this time, instead of in the garage. I smile when I see him waiting patiently. “Hey Tom.” I wave while walking up to him. “How was your weekend?” I ask.
“Great. I went and played golf, probably one of the few things I’m actually good at.” He beams. “And yours?” he asks.
“Fine, I have a new friend. Well not the human kind. More the four-legged furry kind that likes to growl and whine. He just keeps coming back.” Tom looks a little confused. “It’s a dog, Tom, what did you think I meant?”
Tom shakes his head. “Oh, nothing dear, I was just a little shocked. I thought you meant a person not a pet.”
“I don’t know if you could really call him a pet. He comes and goes as he pleases and takes up my bed, but he keeps me warm.” I laugh.
Tom seems lost in thought for a moment, before nodding. “That’s great, shall we head inside?” I nod and follow Tom in. When I reach the elevator, just as the door is about to close, a hand stops it. Theo steps in. I look out expecting Tobias to be behind him but can’t see him. This never happens, they always come up together.
“You are early today. Where is Tobias?” I ask.
Theo watches me for a few seconds. He looks nice and very casual today, wearing jeans and a buttoned up shirt. Vanilla and sandalwood drifts from his body. I resist the urge to close my eyes and sway towards him. It’s an amazing smell, and also how Tobias always smells. I move farther away, my heart hammers in my chest, and my stomach tightens. I have never had this reaction to him before. He moves as far away from me as the tight space allows, but I can tell from the darkening of his eyes whatever this tension is between us, he feels it too. What might have happened if Tom weren’t there? I shiver at the thought.
“Tobias is busy, he will be in a little later,” he tells me. I just nod and look away. As soon as the door opens Theo walks out and straight to his office. Thank God I have done my hair and make-up in the car. That was the most awkward exchange we have ever had. It’s like he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
Going to my desk, I switch the computer on and turn the phones over when I bump my hip on the edge of the table. I hiss at the jolt of pain, my eyes almost cross at the sudden flare. I have been cleaning it regularly and changing the dressing, but it’s taking a long time to heal, and I’m reminded of my infection worry. Checking Theo is still in his office, I sneak over to the small bathroom. I haven’t checked it since yesterday.
Pulling my blouse up, I peel back the bandage. The edge is stuck and I can feel the fabric pulling at the edge of the wound. It starts bleeding. Grabbing a tissue, I dab at it. It’s definitely infected. I should have just tried to sew it myself.
My skin is red and angry with traces of pus oozing from the center, and the edges just won’t close together. The slightest bump makes it reopen. The door bursts open, I drop my shirt, covering myself, but it’s too late. Theo sees my battle wound in the mirror above the sink. His face contorts before he drops his gaze to the ground. His jaw clenches and I can see the vein in his head near his temple pulse. I’m positive I locked the door. How did he get in?
I lift my head up and he meets my gaze. His eye is twitching and that vein is pulsing. What is he angry about? He’s the one that walked in on me! Ignoring my stunned expression, he walks over and lifts the corner of my blouse, exposing my wound. “How did you do that?” He demands, staring into my eyes.
My ears have to be playing tricks on me, because I swear I hear him say something else but his lips barely move. “I knew I smelled blood.” I look back wondering if I heard what I think I did, but he’s inspecting the slash across my hip. “I asked how did you do this?” He snaps at me.
What a weird turn of events, the mean one has turned gentle and the nice one is growling like an animal at me.
“On a piece of wire,” I reply, glancing away from his eyes.
“When?” He stresses. I try to pull my shirt down, to hide the wound. I’m taking care of it, I don’t need him. He pushes my hand aside, “This is infected, come with me,” he says, grabbing my hand and tugging me towards his office. He makes a phone call, talking so fast into the phone I don’t catch a word of what he says. “Sit,” he orders. I sit down, not knowing what else to do. I don’t want to get in any more trouble than I know I’m already in. I’d be grateful if they don’t fire me after learning I have been trespassing for months in the garage, on their company property.
I don’t know how long we wait. Him staring at me, and me trying to do everything but meet his eyes. After an eternity, a man walks in, he has a white doctor’s coat on and scrubs underneath. He carries a huge box that I assume is a medical kit. Theo motions towards me and I stand up before the doctor pushes me towards the couch. “Lay down, Imogen,” Theo orders, I wince at his tone. He’s furious, but what have I done?
I quickly obey and the doctor lifts my shirt. He doesn’t say a word to me. He pulls the side of my pants down, exposing my hip. He prods the area with his fingertips, eyes focused on my reaction. I manage to only swallow instead of whimper like I want to. He doesn’t exactly have a gentle bedside manner. Nodding to himself, he gathers some supplies from his bag and gets to work. He cleans the wound, a lot more aggressively than I have prior to this. The alcohol burns and I clench my eyes shut to keep from breaking down. He pulls out a needle next. I jump up, but Theo forces me back, his hands on my shoulders pushing me back down. “Don’t make me hold you down,” he challenges. I relax my shoulders and muster up what courage I have. He can’t fire me after all this torture at least.
“This may hurt,” the doctor warns me. I nod and focus on his face while he goes to work stitching me up. The doctor is maybe thirty years old at most, not that old at all for a doctor. He has dark hair and brown eyes the same color as mud. He tries to be gentle, but it doesn’t stop the hurt and sting, my hands begin to sweat, he stops a few times when I wriggle too much. One look from Theo though makes me freeze.
When he finishes, he places waterproof gauze over the top and stands up. Rummaging through his bag, he hands me a bottle of pills. “Take these three times a day, they will help clear up the infection. You’ll probably want some pain pills as well, you let it get pretty bad. Take what you need to fight the fever and drink plenty of water.” I grab the small bottle and read it, Cephalexin, an antibiotic. I nod and look up to say thanks, but he’s already gone.
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