Chapter 9
Grace
“Hey, Grace, are yougood to go?”
No. “Sure.” I smile at Nurse Heather. She doesn’t look much older than me, and she’s been a sweetheart. Everyone I’ve encountered during my stay was super nice. It’s a hospital but I almost wish I could stay, considering that once I leave, I won’t have a roof over my head. Then I think about the shitload of money I owe without insurance, and I don’t want to spend another second here.
Grabbing my handbag—a borrow from Ashley—I gather the various documents that were given to me. I have a discharge plan with follow-up appointments, referrals, phone numbers, brochures for fire victim support, just about everything to ensure I’m cared for when I walk through the exit.
If only there were instructions telling me how to survive without a home and money.
Nurse Heather rolls a wheelchair toward me.
“Oh, no, I don’t need one.”
She gives me a rueful smile. “I’m afraid I’ll have to insist. Hospital policy.”
Reluctantly, I settle in the wheelchair. Nurse Heather drills me about the signs of smoke inhalation and what to look out for. I doubt anything will arise after four days under observation without incident, but I humor her.
When we get to the lobby, she asks, “Is your ride here yet?”
“Uh no. I’m going to wait on a cab, so you don’t have to take me outside.”
The wheelchair comes to a halt, and I get up. Turning to her, I smile. “Thanks for everything. You’ve been a gem.”
“As have you. Take care, Grace.”
My smile fades with each step Nurse Heather takes away from me. The whole cab story was a lie. I borrowed some cash from Ashley, a small amount I know I can pay back. I’ll be using it to stay at a motel for a few nights, so catching the bus or walking will be cheaper.
I considered calling my parents—I tried several times. Each time, I hung up before the first ring. Calling my sister for help isn’t going to happen, either. She’ll go blabbing to Mom before I even end the call. Plus, she takes pleasure in my failures, so I’m not eager to share my recent string of misfortunes.
Crashing at some sleazy motel is the better option than listening to the “I told you so” and the “It’s because you don’t value good advice” speeches. Who knows? Maybe I’ll have a stroke of luck and find a job before I have to go crawling back into the family fold.
Gripping the strap of my handbag, I trudge to the door. There are people moving around me, but I don’t notice anyone or hear anything. I’m too busy being terrified of what’s going to happen when I step outside. Life has never looked so uncertain.
The doors slide open, and I take a hesitant step out of the building. The California air is still warm in October. Warmth will work in my favor, in case I end up living on the street. A morbid thought, but a realistic one. I look to the left and then to the right, feeling lost. After a moment, I square my shoulders and take a bolder step. “Come on, Grace, you’ll be fine.”
I tell myself that, but deep down, I’m skeptical.
Before my next step, a sleek black Porsche pulls up under the portico. I think nothing of it until it stops right in front of me, and the window rolls down. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets.
“Rowan?” I’m shocked because I didn’t peg him as a Porsche driver... and on a firefighter’s salary, no less. He continues to be an enigma. “W-what are you doing here?”
As I sputter out the question, I tug self-consciously at my borrowed clothes. Ashley’s top is damn near strangling the life out of my much fuller boobs.
Rowan’s eyebrows elevate as if my question isn’t a reasonable one. “You said you wouldn’t have a ride when you got discharged.” He shrugs. “You do now.”
I’m momentarily distracted by the cutest ball of fluff. A puppy struggles to climb over the center console from the back. It lands on the front seat and proceeds to jump and yap excitedly. I assume that’s Dog... if she hasn’t gotten a name yet. I almost smile at the puppy’s antics, but my attention goes back to Rowan.
“How did you even know to come?”
“I know some people on the inside.”
I lift an eyebrow.
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” He pauses and frowns. “Not in a creepy way.”
Pursing my lips to hide my smile, I reply, “I didn’t think so.” I’m sure it was in a concerned, sweet way that he probably doesn’t want to admit.
“Are you coming?” he prompts. “I’m blocking the entrance.”
Glancing in all directions, because I’m still perplexed, I tentatively reach for the door handle. I barely know anything about the man but after he saved my life, surely, I can get into a car with him.
Rowan scoops up his pet and puts her on the back seat while I slide in. I turn to him.
“I don’t understand...”
He gives me a fleeting glance. “Nothing much to understand, Grace. I’m taking you to where you’ll be staying.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your temporary residence,” he says, as if that’s supposed to make everything clear. It doesn’t.
The car drives off and I’m still staring at Rowan, wondering what the hell is going on.