Endangered Hearts, page 10
Lawsuits? Silly Aasif thought he cared about lawsuits, about money at a time like this? Kasper almost wanted to laugh; it seemed he was, after all, much better at concealing his true feelings than he thought, at being the bastard he always wanted to be. Ironically enough, however, this was not the time to celebrate it. Pretending to not care about Emilia, in seeing her as only a liability rather than essential to his daily survival, felt unjust. And suddenly he knew he could not allow it, couldn’t let the world believe he didn’t care about her.
“If she dies, it will be all my doing.”
Aasif inhaled sharply. It was important for a lawyer of all genres to tread carefully when their clients were prone to guilty thoughts. Aasif was treading with attorney-client privilege inside the inability to allow a client to lie in a courtroom. “Was it or was it not an accident, Kasper? Did she fall by herself?”
“She did, yet…” For leverage, Kasper grasped the end of his desk. From where he stood, he had a perfect view of the shelf where the hollow book was. And he knew he could easily dull himself from Emilia. Yet whether the thoughts were good or bad ones, ones of guilt or lust, he did not want to be any further from her than he already was.
“That girl, she is so foolish, she thought to make me smile—and—I—I diverted her attention!”
Hearing this, Aasif relaxed considerably; unfortunately, however, his friend did not. “If that is what happened, then this accident was a matter of circumstances, not fault.” Aasif paused. Was it possible that his client was crying? “What is this girl to you, Kasper? Why is she so special?”
Kasper turned, shocked that the lawyer still could not comprehend. “Don’t you understand?” Something in his face changed, causing his facial muscles to ache and a strange sensation of his lips turning upward. “She only wanted to make me smile.”
Chapter 9
Healing Gestures
Time haunted him like a horde of gnats, taunting him and making each second feel significantly longer. Worse yet, there was nothing he could do about it, so he paced his office, checking the time on his watch more frequently in those first few minutes than he had in his entire life. How long had she been unconscious now? And what would become of her if she continued to stay that way? Maybe for once, Aasif was correct. Maybe he should have just called the local authorities. Maybe he should have just driven her to the hospital himself…if she died, there would be no more question left as to his guilt. This, he knew and could not tolerate the thought of. Kasper checked the time again, again, and once more…
At last, Mrs. Levkin came in with Doctor Hartwell and his assistant following closely behind. Though her face was stern, Mrs. Levkin did not look any more grim than usual and he was instantly more frustrated that there was no clear evidence to indicate Emilia Ward’s fate, and thus, his own.
“Is she all right?” He was aware of how fraught he sounded, knew it, and still did not care.
“So it would seem,” Doctor Hartwell replied. He was a tall man, bald excluding the fading gray beard on his chin. And while Kasper had always thought him intelligent, he now seemed undeniably slow. “Her pupils are reactive, and there is no additional bleeding from the ears or nose, so there are no immediate signs of subarachnoid hemorrhage or subdural hematoma. But…”
“But what?” he roared. “Get on with it, man!”
The assistant at the doctor’s side flinched; apparently, she had not been properly warned about this client’s temper and disposition, and now she skittishly hid behind Doctor Hartwell.
“Symptoms of a skull fracture may develop later on. In order to know for certain, the patient needs a CT scan and MRI—”
“Yes,” Kasper muttered, “of course.”
“I can call the paramedics and they should be here shortly.”
“No!” his fingers danced by his sides, as if playing an imaginary piano. “I have an arrangement with the private EMS.”
Ready for damage control, Aasif leaned in and tried to advise Kasper quietly. “Kasper, should you—?”
“Do as I instruct!” he said. “And stop asking questions.”
Doctor Hartwell looked back at Mrs. Levkin as if for confirmation. “V-very well, sir.”
“Make the arrangements, Mrs. Levkin,” Kasper demanded. “I—I shall check on the status of the girl.”
Kasper left them behind, their questioning eyes and concerned looks, caring only about what seemed a silent call, drawing himself back to her. His steps were quiet, eager not to disturb her, though he knew it was unlikely. As he looked down at her now, she was so still and small, it seemed she would break at his touch.
He hesitated yet again. Though she looked somewhat better with a relieved complexion and the hair pulled away from her face, the IV inserted into her hand and her unmoving eyelashes bothered him considerably.
No sooner did he complete his evaluation, than her fingers twitched slightly, causing him to breathe in much more air than he needed. The intake made him reach for her but stop just as his own hand entered his view. Side by side, he looked more monstrous than ever, as if his horrid hand could crush her, destroy her just by his ugliness alone.
Yet he could no longer stop himself from want to touching her. The need more overwhelming than usual, it flourished up inside of him, not desire or lust, but an unquenchable want to connect with her in the most basic way—in that way normal people took advantage of every day.
As her eyes fluttered open, she smiled just slightly. Kasper became more worried; she must not have recognized him to look so happy.
“It’s you.”
“Yes,” he choked back. “Forgive me.” Kasper coughed back his joy, the relief that consumed him at her being alive. “I was about to the fetch the doctor.”
“Doctor?” Emilia stretched while simultaneously shifting herself upward. She sounded wide awake now at the word. And he wondered if she had any awareness at all of how enticing she looked. “Why?” she asked, her voice innocent, and oblivious.
“Y-you fell…you foolish girl. A solid fifteen feet to the ground, head first.”
“W-what?” Now she was truly alert. Emilia got up from the bed far more quickly than he had expected her to, eyes darting around like a wild animal just realizing she had been caught. “I—I…” She touched her temples, all in an instant her body encouraging her to go back to sleep while her mind relived the embarrassing memory of falling.
“Oh, no.” While she may have sounded dazed, as she held her hands up to her head, she was really focusing to make the pain there go away. It felt as though her heartbeat had resettled itself just above her right ear, and before she even reached there, she could feel the throbbing.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should go.” She pulled the IV from her hand, uncaring, to a terrified Kasper, that she bled.
“I—you need to be examined properly,” Kasper began, unsure if he should help or deter her from leaving. “Doctor Hartwell was just calling the ambulance.”
“Ambulance?” Emilia sounded more panicked than ever. “Doctor Hartwell?”
“He is very professional.” Kasper tried to calm her and was failing miserably. Even he could hear it in his words as she brought her bleeding hand to her mouth and viciously shook her head.
“No,” she said hastily. “Really, I’m okay. None of that is necessary.” Though she looked as though she might fall over, Emilia managed to get to the door and to Kasper’s great relief, even down the hall. Yet she never looked more disturbed than she did when she saw the group that had gathered quietly in the foyer.
“My dear child.” Mrs. Levkin’s smile was wide. “You’re all right, thank goodness.”
“Uh-uh…” Emilia glanced at the ladder, the memory of fast falling coming back to her once again. She thought she was going to be sick. If he didn’t hate her before, he surely would now for all the commotion her clumsiness had caused. “Um, okay.”
“Hello, Ms. Ward.” Aasif raised the glass in his hand as if in commiseration. “So glad to see you up and about.”
“Yes. Sorry about that—the ladder. I’m not sure what happened.”
“Sorry?” Mrs. Levkin scoffed. “There is no reason to be sorry, dear. You’re the one with a headache.”
“Are you experiencing any nausea, Ms. Ward? Odd vision?”
Emilia ignored the bearded man who spoke to her, thinking only of Kasper, who slowly followed her steps, diligent to catch her this time if she fell.
“N-no,” she insisted. “I’m okay.” She said this directly to Kasper, rather than to the man she could only assume was Doctor Hartwell. Though the pounding in her head was nowhere close to residing, she finished making her way down the staircase, not unaware of how close Kasper followed. But he hadn’t so conscientiously put himself so close to her before. Had her perception been altered by her head injury?
Before thinking on it further, Mrs. Levkin handed her a cup of tea—chamomile, she guessed by the smell—and Doctor Hartwell walked over to her along with a young woman, who typed away on a touchpad. Emilia nodded to both of them before sitting on the sheeted sofa. How long ago was it that she and Mrs. Levkin had covered up the sofa? Oh, God, what time was it? She could see the sun had set, prompting the night to unfold from beyond. Emilia felt even more nauseous, as she imagined the inconvenience she had caused. Had her clumsiness made him miss a flight? Put a dent in everyone’s evening plans?
“May I?”
Emilia tried to smile her permission to Doctor Hartwell, though once more, her focus was on the man who stood behind him, the man who she had dreamt whispered to her as she slept.
“Follow my finger…” Emilia did as she was told and Doctor Hartwell muttered to his assistant, both of them seeming unconcerned about the results.
Aasif’s gaze trailed outside the window. “The ambulance is here,” he told no one in particular.
Emilia crossed her arms over herself, feeling more defensive than usual. “No, thanks, I’m fine.”
“Yes,” Doctor Hartwell said. “You should have an MRI at the least.”
“No. I—I’m okay, really,” she said, doing her best to smile. “I feel fine.”
“Yes,” Kasper said, coming up from behind her. How did he have the ability to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time? “I insist.”
“No,” Emilia begged. She needed her coat, her backpack, needed to get out, away from his peering gaze. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m really all right.” She waved the doctor away and handed Mrs. Levkin back her cup of tea. “Just embarrassed.” Though she did her best to seem nothing else, Emilia couldn’t avoid flinching at the harsh sound as she removed the blood pressure cuff from around her arm.
“I will take care of the expenses.”
She hated that he so bluntly addressed her financial circumstances. What gave him the right to assume she couldn’t pay her bills? Sure, she had considered the potential financial burden a trip to the ER would cost her, the damage to her credit score when she couldn’t pay them back. But then there were the logistics to think about, the time she would waste between the hospital and everything else she had to do. Anyway, didn’t these people understand that she was more likely to die of humiliation at this point than a headache?
“Young lady, you don’t appear to have a concussion. But you could very well have a skull fracture, which may develop later—”
“I understand. But really,” she said, clenching her jaw, “I’m fine.”
Doctor Hartwell took a step back. “Very well,” he said. “Legally, I can’t force medical treatment, so if you are aware of the safety hazards involved…” He nodded to his very eager assistant, who immediately went to retrieve the doctor’s coat from over the loveseat. “I’ll be off.”
“If you experience any dizziness or nausea, make sure to be off to the ER. Avoid alcohol and stimulants for at least two days—”
“Right,” she said, cutting him off. “No problem.”
Kasper was inflamed with everyone’s casualness. How could they act with such simplicity? Like Aasif, they were behaving as though this incident was irrelevant, as though her blood had not been shed in his house—practically at his hands!
“What?” The sudden display of emotion stunned everyone, making the physician’s assistant gasp and Emilia jump as she went to walk away. “All that blood! And—what sort of medical professional are you?”
Doctor Hartwell backed away as Kasper approached; he was so far against the wall that even his assistant didn’t have a place to cower behind. “Her motor skills seem to be just fine, and the scalp tends to hemorrhage dramatically.” He laughed nervously “She has little more than a cut above her ear—”
“You see? There,” Emilia insisted. “And,” she nodded at Mr. Shiraz for emphasis. “I promise not to sue. Cross my heart and everything.”
Mrs. Levkin rested her hand against her forehead. “Are you certain, dear—?”
“I am, Mrs. Levkin. Don’t worry. I’ll drive straight home, will not stop, will not collect two hundred dollars.” Though she laughed at her own joke, it was not as heartfelt as she hoped it sounded and did not diminish Kasper’s aggressiveness towards Doctor Hartwell. Mr. Shiraz and Mrs. Levkin looked at each other nervously.
Squirming away, Doctor Hartwell waited until he was safely in the hall and the bodies of Emilia and Mrs. Levkin were between him and Kasper before speaking up again. “Oh, you mustn’t drive. Not for at least 24 hours, just to be on the safe side.”
Emilia’s resilience fell, then, suddenly and completely. Her head hurt way too much for this. All she wanted was to go home and take a long shower, maybe even to sleep for once without imagining what his unique hands would feel like all over her body. “How am I supposed to—?”
“I’ll see you home,” Kasper said suddenly. “That, I do insist on.”
Though they exchanged glances, neither Mr. Shiraz nor Mrs. Levkin dared to speak up. Kasper had never volunteered his time so openly to another human being, let his concern be so apparent, and frankly, the change left the bystanders wondering if there was a catch to be had.
But she didn’t object anymore, incapable of thinking about anything else other than a well-deserved rest.
She had followed him out to the garage, not surprised to see several different vehicles in immaculate condition. Amazingly to him, she smiled as he held open the passenger-side door of the Charger for her. Surely, though she was in pain, she would offer him a smile?
“Thanks for this,” Emilia said quietly as they pulled down the long drive. And as much as he wanted to respond, he could not, thinking that once again, his emotion would get the better of him. Instead, he kept his mouth fixed shut and eyes focused on the road. He would do this small consideration for her, ensure that she was back to her mother’s home safely. If he couldn’t lay his life down at her feet, he would do his best to assure her well-being.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Emilia said suddenly. “I’m perfectly all right to drive.”
“If Hartwell said you should not be driving, then you won’t be.”
“You seem to forget that you are only my boss during working hours.” Emilia pulled her gaze away to stare out the window. Instantly, she wished she could take it back. Though at times he was rude and condescending, he was now doing her a favor, and she didn’t want to sound like the ungrateful child he must have thought she was.
“Even if you were,” she added to soften the blow of her words. “I could have walked or taken a cab.”
“And have Mrs. Levkin skin me alive? I don’t think so.” He could feel her looking at him, astounded by the awed look she gave him from the corner of her eye. “What?”
“You’re laughing.” She smiled.
“Of course, you foolish girl.” He smiled again despite himself. “Don’t you see how funny it is?”
“No.” Hearing the change in his voice, Emilia knew to tread on soft ground. With how quickly his moods could evolve, she ventured this was best.
“If I was skinned, it would be rather an improvement on my current appearance.”
Emilia sighed. While she had wanted him to embrace his humor, she hated that he automatically turned to dark thoughts. She wished that she could take those morbid thoughts away from him, make him forget that he hated himself, but didn’t know how.
Even now, he tensed in her presence and she felt painfully bad for him. His idea of a joke was hurting himself? Making fun of his appearance? Emilia cringed, perhaps without realizing it; he had revealed something else about himself. Apparently, his hands were not the only unique part of him.
“Is that why you wear that mask?” she asked cautiously. “You think you’re ugly?”
“You say that as though it’s a question.” He scoffed. “Yet it is not debatable.”
Torn between refuting him and falling asleep, Emilia kept quiet, promising herself she would review this new information when her head didn’t ache so much. In spite of her silent wish to stay in that car with him forever, Kasper reached the outskirts of her street.
“I suppose I won’t see you for a while, then…” Emilia waited until he had pulled alongside of her house before unclasping her seatbelt. She wanted as many seconds with him as she could get, to absorb as much of him as she could. How would she be able to stand a month without hearing his voice?
“Lucky you,” he mumbled.
Finally, she stepped out of the car and took a few steps away. Though Emilia thought he would peel away the second she was out of sight, in reality, he would have been damned if he did not safely see her into her house.
“No,” she said, leaning forward to his open window. “Not really.”
Then she met him, lips to masked cheek.
Kasper watched her walk to the front of the house, the shock seeping through his every pore, through the gasps of his heaving heart. He thought for sure his combination of joy and shock was visible, that it must have been radiating around him like a cloudy haze, yet as he readjusted the rearview mirror, he could not see anything beyond his own ugliness.
