Don't Make Me Beautiful (11 page)

“I’d appreciate that,” says Brian, knowing that he’s taking on a giant responsibility, maybe even on par with becoming a father, but unable to stop himself.
 
He has no idea how he’s going to keep up the charade of being her brother and take care of her beyond staying by her side while she’s here in the hospital, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to walk away and leave her to the demon who tried to destroy her, body and soul.

Chapter Sixteen

NICOLE OPENS HER EYES SLOWLY, her vision adjusting bit by bit.
 
The room is dim.
 
She’s in a bed, but it’s not the one at home she used to share with John.
 
A hospital bed?
 
How did I get here?
 
There’s a chair next to her, and in it is a man.
 
He’s sleeping sitting up, his head tipped to the side and his mouth partially open.

For a moment she thinks it’s John and her blood pressure spikes.
 
But then she realizes the hair is all wrong.
 
This man has blondish-brown hair, not black, and it’s cut short almost military-style.
 
John leaves his hair on the long side.
 
This man is broad-shouldered but maybe not as much as John is.
 
Thank God it’s not John
.
 
His arms and legs are thick; he obviously works out.
 
Nothing about him looks familiar, but something about him being there brings her peace.

She tries to clear her throat.
 
The effort brings her pain.

The man’s eyes open and his head straightens.
 
When he notices her awake, he brightens and sits forward.
 
“Hi,” he says just barely above a whisper.
 
“Listen, before anyone else comes in here, I need to tell you something.
 
Can you hear me?”

She nods, curious what could be so urgent that he needs her to know it right now.

He casts furtive glances at the door like he expects someone to appear at any moment.
 
“I told the doctors and nurses that you’re my sister.
 
Your name is Briana Jensen, okay?
 
Briana Jensen.
 
And mine’s Brian Jensen.
 
We’re neighbors for real, but siblings here, okay?”

Nicole doesn’t know what to say, and even if she did, it probably wouldn’t make it past her throat anyway.
 
It’s swollen and she’s confused.
 
Why is he telling her this?

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

She shakes her head no.
 
The words are clear, but the meaning isn’t.
 
“I don’t … I can’t …,” she whispers.
 
It’s all she can manage.

“I don’t know if you remember, but my son hit his baseball through your window two days ago.
 
Sunday I came back to talk to your husband and I found you on the floor in your living room very hurt.”

“Did he … did he …?”
 
She cannot get the words out and it’s frustrating her beyond belief.

“Shhh, don’t get stressed, okay?
 
Your heart monitor will go all wacky and a nurse will come in.
 
I’m not ready for them yet.
 
I need you to understand.
 
Your name is Briana Jensen right now and mine’s Brian.
 
We’re brother and sister, okay?”

“John?” she finally says.

“Is he your husband?”

“Boyfriend,” she whispers.

“He doesn’t know you’re here.
 
I’m trying to protect you, okay?
 
So we need to keep him away.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that.
 
Her face crumples as the meaning behind his words settles in.

Brian gets nervous, standing partway out of his chair and holding up his hands.
 
“Don’t cry.
 
Seriously, please don’t cry.
 
We’re going to get you some help.
 
I know he’s been doing terrible things to you and that you think you need to go back to him, but you don’t, okay?
 
You don’t have to go back there if you don’t want to.”
 
He stands more fully and comes over to the bed, taking her hand in his.
 
She looks down and sees tubes sticking out of the back of her skin.
 
His hand is warm.
 
She remembers a warm hand taking hers at some point while she was sleeping or semi-conscious.
 
Was that him then too?

“You can decide later what you want to do, but for now, I hope you’ll agree to be my sister.”
 
He’s so earnest.
 
His pretty blue eyes stare into hers and his dark eyelashes blink nervously.

“She’s awake,” exclaims a nurse from the doorway.
 
She comes in and walks over to the other side of the bed.
 
“How are you feeling, Briana?
 
Can you hear me okay?”

Briana looks first to Brian.
 
He nods reassuringly and squeezes her hand just a little.

Nicole doesn’t know what to do or what to say.
 
John is going to find her here, and if he realizes that she’s been trying to hide from him under another name, he’ll be furious.
 
He’ll kill her and maybe hurt this man too.
 
Tears well up in her eyes.

“She’s just hurting right now, and I think her throat is sore,” says Brian, patting her hand awkwardly.
 
“We talked before you came in.
 
Her voice is … messed up.”
 
He looks at Nicole again and nods rapidly.

She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath before just barely nodding.
 
For now, this is all she can do.
 
One day of pretending to be someone else isn’t going to change anything.
 
She knows the risk to Brian is slim compared to what John will want to do to her.
 
Maybe later if she goes back without a fight, he’ll leave Brian and his son alone.
 
She can already picture the threat on John’s lips, about what he’ll do to people who care about her if she doesn’t do what he says.

“I’m going to call the doctor and see what he wants to do.
 
Are you okay here?” she asks Nicole.
 
“Do you want some ice chips, maybe?”

Nicole nods, realizing for the first time how sticky the inside of her mouth is.
 
It tastes awful.
 
The nurse leaves as Nicole runs her tongue along her teeth, finding a loose one and a new sharp chip missing from another.
 
Her lips tremble as the sadness rises up to overwhelm her.
 
John has taken so much from her, and now this.
 
Half-dead in a hospital room with her teeth falling out and who knows what else.
 
Trying to lift her right arm to get it out from under the covers she discovers she’s wearing a cast.

“My god,” she whispers, looking at it.
 
She wants to vomit.

“It’s broken,” says Brian.
 
He lifts up a hand to rub his head.
 
“I guess you know that, though, huh?
 
That’s what the cast is for.”
 
He hisses out a breath.
 
“That was stupid.
 
Of course you know what a cast is for.
 
Gah
, not that you’ve had one before.
 
Or maybe you have.
 
Shit
.
 
I’m an idiot.
 
Ignore me.”
 
He stares at the ground.

She looks at him, a tear slipping down her cheek.
 
He seems so uncomfortable.
 
The poor guy can’t even look at her.
 
But who could blame him?

“You can go now,” she says softly, eager to release him from the prison of standing by her side.

He looks up at her sharply, his brows drawn together.
 
“Go?
 
No way, I’m not going anywhere.”

Now it’s her turn to frown.
 
“Your son…”

“My son is with his mom and he’s fine.
 
I’m staying here with you until you leave on your own two feet.”

“John will come,” she says.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
 
Brian lets her hand go and pulls the chair he was sitting in closer.
 
Lowering himself into it, he maintains eye contact with her.
 
“I have a plan, if you want to hear it.”

Not sure what to say, Nicole just stares at him.
 
His eyes are so bright blue, they remind her of pool water.
 
When she used to go upstairs in John’s house, she could see one of the neighbor’s pools out the back window.
 
It was such a bright azure, so inviting.
 
She dreamed of going over and drowning herself in it many times, but then she’d look down at Kitten’s spot in the yard and know that she couldn’t.
 
Then she’d be leaving Kitten behind and that never seemed right.

“I’m going to take that as a
yes
.
 
So here’s the deal … John doesn’t know you’re here.
 
He can’t find you because you didn’t get checked in under your real name.
 
Since he’s the one who hurt you, he’s probably not going to go out of his way to try and locate you by calling the local hospitals and describing your injuries.
 
He’ll just wait for you to come home, right? I’m sure he’ll just expect you to come back like you always probably do.”

Nicole moves one shoulder in a shrug and then wishes she hadn’t.
 
The pain in her ribs and back is sharp.

“So you’ll be here about a week or so.
 
Maybe less.
 
And then you’ll come to my house instead.”

Her eyes widen in alarm.
 
“But … we’re neighbors.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know I’m with you or you’re with me.
 
And you’ll be in my house with the blinds closed, so he’ll never know you’re there.
 
If you want, I’ll go find another place for us to stay in, I don’t care.”

She grits her teeth together, ignoring the loose one, trying to keep the scream inside.
 
This makes no sense.
 
She feels like she’s being set up for an even bigger fall than just going straight home to John.

“I can see you’re upset,” he continues.
 
“I get it.
 
I mean, I kind of get it.
 
I’ve been doing some research on this stuff.
 
On … you know … women who are hurt by men they love.
 
And I think right now you feel like your life is over and you just have to take whatever that jackass wants to give you, but you’re wrong, okay?
 
You’re wrong about that.”
 
He takes her hand in his and strokes it gently.
 
“I’ll help you get on your feet.
 
I’ll help you heal.
 
I’ll even bring you to the plastic surgeon so they can fix the bones in your face.”

She jerks her hand out of his, flinching when the IV needle under her skin is yanked sideways.
 
“No.
 
No surgery.”

Brian takes her hand back.
 
“Fine.
 
No surgery.
 
Whatever.
 
You don’t have to have it if you don’t want to.
 
But I can’t let you go back to that house.
 
I just can’t.”

“Why not?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
 
Her heart feels like there’s an elephant stepping on it, crushing it down into a bloody pancake.
 
This amazing man is a perfect stranger and he has nothing to do with her life, other than living down the street.
 
Why is he here?
 
Why does he care?
 
Something akin to anger starts to fill her heart.

“Why not?
 
Because.
 
You’re my sister.”
 
He gives her a crooked smile.

Seeing that grin light up his face, she cannot for the life of her be mad at him anymore.
 
As quickly as it came, the anger disappears.
 
Confusion takes its place.

“That makes no sense,” she says finally.

“Life makes no sense, though, right?
 
So why should we?”

She thinks about it for a few seconds, looking down at how he’s touching her so gently.
 
No one has touched her that way in a very long time. She’s starved for affection, yet refuses to feel guilty or bad about it. The spark of fight left in her is glowing just slightly stronger now.

“That’s true,” she says, her voice sounding more normal.
 
“Life is … crazy.”

“So let’s just go with that, then. Let’s be crazy. You be my pretend-sister, I’ll be your neighbor disguised as a brother, and together, we’ll figure this out.”

If only it could be that simple.
 
The tears threaten again.
 
“But … your son … my face …”

He pats her hand and stands.
 
“Don’t you worry about him.
 
He’s a great sport.
 
I’ll explain everything.”

“I don’t know how you’re going to explain something like me to a young boy like your son.”

“Leave that to me.”
 
He tilts his head as he looks in her eyes.
 
“What’s your real name, by the way?”

“Nicole.”

“Nice to meet you, Nicole.
 
Do you go by Nikki?”