Paxton shook the nurse’s hand and thanked her for everything. He took my things and left to retrieve the car, and I debated on saying something again. Beg for mercy…and hope she would listen.
“You’re a lucky woman, Gabriella. I know it’s hard for you to see that right now, but you are. You’re going to be okay. Thank your lucky stars you’re alive and you have such a nice-looking man to take care of you. That’s more than a lot of women I’ve seen come and go here. We just sent one to a Jane Doe to a nursing home a week ago in worse condition than you. Not one person claimed the poor soul. She didn’t have a husband that loved her like you do. Things will work out. I’m a very good judge of character. You hooked yourself a good one,” she assumed with a nod and a wink.
Good judge of character, my ass.
All I could do was sigh and thank her. Attempting again to tell them I didn’t want to go wouldn’t help. I had already tried that. Several times. Julie wheeled me out the double doors to Paxton, who drove up in style. I arched a brow when I saw the car he rolled up in.
Jesus. Was I rich?
“What do you think?” He smiled with an open hand toward the pearl-white SUV. A Lexus. Wow. I was rich. Or somebody was. Paxton, I presumed.
“It’s nice. Is this our car?”
“It’s yours. To replace the one you crashed. Do you like it?”
How could I not love it? “Yes, I do.”
Julie locked my wheelchair and whispered in my ear. “See there. You’re the first. Not many men pick their wives up in brand new Lexus’s. You take care, you hear?”
“Yes, thank you for everything, Julie. I appreciate all your help.”
“Just doing my job. You folks take care.”
Paxton helped me ease into the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt with a kiss. A familiar kiss. I’d been kissed so many times by him that I was getting used to it. It didn’t bother me at all, and that strange, awkward feeling I’d had before was gone. It didn’t feel like it was our first kiss anymore. I didn’t know if that meant I was starting to recollect something, or he just did it so much.
The first half hour of our drive was spent in silence, neither of us speaking a word. Paxton stared straight ahead, one hand on the wheel, one resting on the gray leather console between us. I loved the soft leather, and honestly, I couldn’t have picked out a nicer car. At least one of us knew my taste. I’m the one who broke the ice and finally spoke, only because of the pain. I couldn’t sit like that for much longer.
“Jesus, how much longer, Pax?”
His eyes darted so quickly in my direction, I thought I heard the crack of his neck. “Don’t you ever call me that again. Do you understand me, Gabriella? I’m Paxton to you. Unless I tell you otherwise, I am Paxton.”
“Chill out, dude. I’m asking out of pain. Not disrespect.”
The car behind us blew a lengthy horn when Paxton cut him off.
The abrupt movement caused pain to shoot up my leg when he jerked the car to the side of the road.
“I am not Pax. I am not dude. I am Paxton to you. Do you understand that? I don’t want to have to rehash this again. Tell me you understand. Say ‘yes, Paxton, I understand,’” Paxton ordered in an angry yet subtle tone. One that assured me that he meant business.
For a split second, I thought he might hit me. After the wreck, my body couldn’t take another beating. Not now. I submissively responded, my gaze moving to my lap. “Yes, Paxton. I understand.”
“That’s my girl. Now lay your seat back and rest. We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“We do? Where are we?”
“We were in Orlando. Home is Hudson, but you probably already know that. Now if you would just tell me where you were going in the middle of a tropical storm.”
“I don’t know. I told you that already.”
“Yes, yes you did. At least ten times. Now, I already told you, lay your seat back and rest.”
I did as I was told, moving the electronic buttons to a reclining positon. My eyes closed and I drew in a deep gulp of air, trying to slow my breathing, relax, and ease the pain in my ribs and my chest. That’s where it got me the most. Directly in my chest and down my right side. The cracked ribs, I supposed.
My eyes closed and my mind searched for answers. Every time I had asked about the girls, my own children, Paxton shot me down. He wouldn’t tell me anything about them. The only explanation I got was about why he hadn’t brought them to the hospital. He didn’t want to scare them. That was his reasoning. Other than that, I knew nothing. Not that I really tried all that hard. I didn’t feel like anyone’s mommy. I didn’t even ask to see a photo. I must be a horrible mother.
I didn’t move a muscle when I felt Paxton raise my dress above my knee, high on my thighs. My husband was a nympho. His wife had almost died, and all he had on his mind was sex. I kept my eyes closed and held my breath while he drove, caressing my leg with his hand. That’s when I noticed they were rough. Paxton actually worked for a living. The roughness abraded the skin on the inside of my tender leg. That surprised me a little, and I wondered what he did as a job. Of course I didn’t care enough to ask.
A burning ignited in the pit of my stomach when his hand crept up, moving farther until he could touch me. But he never did. He got very close, massaging my inner thigh all the way to the crease where my thigh met my groin, but he didn’t touch me there. I waited for it, but it never happened. His thumb swiped back and forth, but only my leg.
I peeked through a slit in my left eye when the car slowed, coming to a stop behind a semi-truck. I could tell by the buildings and the street that we had gotten off the highway and were in a town. I just didn’t know what town. My breathing halted and my heart stopped beating when he slipped my dress higher.
Paxton slid my panties to the side. My lids twittered but remained closed while I waited for the contact that never came. He never touched me. Not there anyway. He spread my good leg more and hissed. Even through the tiny slit, I could see the lustful desire in his eyes as he exposed me. It mortified me, but I pretended like it never happened. I never completely opened my eyes, didn’t even acknowledge that it occurred.
I knew one thing, and one thing only. As soon as I could manage it, I would be getting far, far away from Paxton Pierce. I would figure it out and find a way. I didn’t care what he said, or anyone else. I didn’t belong with—or to—Paxton. Maybe before, but not now. Not anymore. I would never be able to submit to this authoritative figure. I straight-up hated the guy and the way he took the circuitous route to show me who was boss. It wasn’t me, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
For the time being.
Once Paxton the perve backed off, I think I dozed off after a while. It wasn’t long. I couldn’t rest because it quickly became unbearable.
The seat hummed as I pushed the button, bringing it to an upright position. “I have to take something, Pax—Paxton,” I sputtered, swift on the save. God, the pain. It was hard to think about anything but that. Dull in my lower back, sharp between my shoulders, piercing in my knee. I couldn’t take it much longer. I needed a pain pill and somewhere to lay down. I didn’t care where. Anywhere.
Paxton laced his fingers with mine and brought them to his lips. That hurt, too, bad enough for me to gasp and jerk my hand away. Just because it wasn’t the broken one, didn’t mean I could bend it that way yet. Jesus.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay?”
My neck hurt clear down my spine, but I pondered on the cause. Whiplash from his split personality, or from my car accident?
“I’m fine. How much longer?”
“Twenty minutes or so. You should start recognizing where we are real soon. Rowan’s dance class is right up here. One of your boundaries.”