Page 11 of Always Watching
I quickly discount that idea. I invested in one of those VPN sites I kept seeing sponsored on YouTube before I started camming for that very reason. I didn’t want to be vulnerable to someone knowing where I lived.
But that didn’t stop some maniac from breaking in and beating the shit out of me. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe in my home again.
I turn my head slightly to look out the window, wondering what I’ll do about a place to live. I have money saved for a rainyday; I could use that to break my lease and move somewhere safe—well,safer, and without a creepy landlord.
A soft knock sounds at the door and I look over to see the handsome nurse from earlier. “Hey. Time for your—” His eyes dart over to my right side where North is sitting, then he rushes over to put himself between me and the chair—where there’s a man sitting who is definitely not North. “Who are you and how did you get in here?”
I scramble up, pressing my back to the railing on the side of the bed. I hiss in pain at my agitated injuries, but I don’t know who this guy is. How did he get in here? What does he want? Is he the man who attacked me? Did he come back to finish the job?
The man rises to his feet and drags his eyes up and down my nurse. “I’m Atlas. My boy called me and asked me to sit with his… friend.” He glances at me, his eyes roaming over my face. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but I try not to shrink under his scrutiny.
My nurse—I think he said his name was Calvin—doesn’t seem the least bit mollified by his explanation. “And he knew visiting hours were over before he called, right?” I like him. He’s not taking any shit and I really appreciate that.
The stranger—Atlas—meets my nurse’s eyes again, a small smile tipping up his full lips. “Yeah, he knew. But he doesn’t want to leave him alone. You see the state of him, right?” I wince in embarrassment, but Atlas just casts me a quick glance before looking back at my nurse. “He’s just worried. Look, I won’t cause any trouble. I just want to sit here and make sure no one comes in here and fu—messes with him. Is that okay?”
Calvin stares the man down for another few moments, then looks back at me. “You want him to go?”
I stare into Calvin’s dark eyes, hoping to read what I should do in them, but the decision is all on me.
Swallowing past my tight throat and hoping I’m not making the wrong decision, I whisper, “He can stay.”
Calvin tears his eyes from mine to look at Atlas. “Don’t upset my patient. You sit here and you don’t start shit. Understand?”
Atlas grins, giving Calvin that once-over again. “I understand. You run a tight ship around here…”
“Calvin. Calvin Hayes. And yes I do.” He turns back to me, checking me over visually before looking at the machines at my back. “How are you feeling? Rate your pain on a scale from one through ten.”
I sit for a moment and analyze my body. “Maybe a three?” He gives me a look and I smile softly, ducking my eyes. “A six.”
He sighs, taking my hand in a sweet gesture. “You have to be honest with me, Ranen. If you’re in pain, I need to know. I can’t help you if you lie to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He waves me off. “It happens all the time. I was coming to give you more pain meds.”
“No,” I say quickly. “They make me loopy. I’m in pain, but it’s manageable. As long as I don’t move too much, I’m fine.”
Calvin looks down at me with soft eyes. “Your body would benefit from rest, but I can’t make you take the meds.” He hands me the remote that’s attached to the bed by a thick gray cord. “Press the nurse’s call button if the pain worsens.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hayes,” I murmur, getting comfortable on the bed, hiding my wince.
“Call me Calvin.”
From behind him, Atlas asks, “Can I call you Calvin too?”
With a soft grin and a blush high on his chestnut brown cheeks, the hot nurse turns to Atlas and says, “You won’t be here long enough to call me anything. Good night, Ranen.”
He slips out of the room, and I turn to Atlas to see him following Calvin out with his gaze. I don’t miss the sway of Calvin’s hips that wasn’t there earlier.
When Atlas finally drags his eyes away to meet mine, he smiles, completely unashamed to be caught staring. “You look a little worse for wear.”
I nod carefully. “Who are you? And who is your boy? Like some Daddy-boy thing?”
He barks a laugh, though his eyes don’t shine with mirth. “No, my boy, as in my son. My actual, blood-related son. Nothing more. He asked me to watch over you while he was out handling some business.”
“North is your son?” There’s no way. Atlas is . . .well, he’s a fucking snack. He can’t be older than forty, with this smooth tanned skin, sharp gray eyes, straight nose, and full lips. How could he be North’s father?
“How old are you?” I blurt out, finding it hard to pin down his age.
