My head hurt and I struggled to pay attention to the nurse’s words. She was reading from a sheet of paper, something about concussion symptoms and a follow-up with my primary physician, as if I had one. The drone of her words and sterile yet stale odor of the room made me want to run away. But my throbbing head and shaky legs wouldn’t allow it.
“Okay, I think that’s all the discharge instructions, Ms. Robinson.”
“You can call me Olivia,” I said reflexively.
“Olivia.” She sighed and stepped closer to me, lowering her voice. “There’s just one more thing I want to let you know.”
“What?”
“I’m including the number for an intimate partner violence hotline in your packet of information. It’s not labeled, for safety reasons. You can call them anytime, day or night.”
At first I thought I’d misheard her. “Intimate — what?”
The nurse put her hand on mine. “It’s all right if you’re not ready to leave him. But you need to know, your injuries could have been much worse.”
“Leave who? Ma’am, what are you talking about?”
She patted my hand once and then stepped back. “It’s all right, Olivia. You don’t have to tell me what happened. But talk to someone, please. It helps.”
As she prattled on, I finally put the pieces together. The nurse thought Marcus hurt me. Of course. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. Marcus didn’t hurt me – he was the target of the attack in the first place. I only got hurt because I was trying to help him.”
She looked doubtful, her eyes darting from my bruises to my bandaged head. “Are you sure? It’s not uncommon for victims to defend their abusers.”
“Trust me, I’m sure,” I insisted, feeling my frustration rising. “Marcus didn’t lay a finger on me. He shielded me. They pummeled him.” I choked back a sob as memories flashed in my mind. The men hitting Marcus relentlessly, my uselessness.
The nurse sighed again, scribbling something on her clipboard. “I’m sorry for misreading the situation. We just want to make sure our patients are safe.”
“Apology accepted.”
“Alright then,” she said right as someone knocked on the door. A nursing assistant poked her head in and said, “Ms. Robinson, you have a visitor. Is it okay if they come in?”
“Marcus?” I asked hopefully. “Yes, please, of course. Show him in. I need him.”
To my disappointment, Elle, my roommate, entered the room instead of Marcus. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her deep skin grayish. She ran over to me and enveloped me in a tight hug. I winced from the pain, but didn’t want to push her away.
“Is Marcus still out in the hallway? I hope you were nice to him,” I said, trying to sound casual.
Elle shook her head. “No, he’s not here. I looked around for him, but I couldn’t find him.”
“Oh. Well, thanks for coming, Elle,” I said quietly, doing my best to hide my disappointment.
“Of course, girl. How are you feeling?” she asked, sitting next to me on the bed.
“Fine, just bruised and very tired,” I replied, forcing a weak smile.
Elle turned her attention to the nurse. “Is she really okay? They told me I could take her home but, is that safe?”
“Yes,” the nurse replied. “As I told Olivia, her scans came back clear. There’s no bleeding in her brain, which was our biggest concern. She should rest, take some pain medicine if needed, and follow up with her primary physician within a few days.”
“Wonderful,” Elle said. “Let’s get you home, Ol.”
As the doctor left the room, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger at Marcus for leaving me. But more than anything, I just wanted to sleep.
*
Back at the apartment, exhaustion weighed me down like shackles. With Elle’s help, I changed into my favorite pajamas – tiny shorts and a tank top adorned with pink and yellow stripes – and crawled into bed. My small bedroom felt cozy and safe, the soft sheets a welcome comfort against my bruised body.
“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” Elle asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation. “Marcus and I went on a… not date,” I began, struggling to find the right words. “We were just hanging out. It was nice. And then, out of nowhere, we were ambushed by a group of masked men.”
Elle’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, my god. Were you robbed? This damn city. Can’t go anywhere.”
“No, it wasn’t a mugging. They didn’t take anything,” I said, shaking my head. “They just wanted to beat the hell out of Marcus. I got hurt trying to protect him, which, yes, I know, was stupid and ridiculous.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Elle insisted, her tone gentle but firm. “You weren’t stupid. You were brave.”
“Brave?” I scoffed. Bitter bile roiled in my gut. “I guess, but it was all a waste since Marcus abandoned me. I could be dead or in a coma for all he knows. He hasn’t even called to check on me.”
“Olivia, your phone is missing. We have no idea if Marcus tried to call you or not. I know I haven’t been his biggest fan, but… don’t get too upset until you talk to him. He did call me and tell me where you were. That’s something.”
I sighed, knowing she was right, but still feeling betrayed by Marcus’s absence. And yet, despite everything, I couldn’t help but long for his presence. Things had been going so well. I wasn’t sure I had the heart or energy for another round of drama.
“Come on,” Elle said. “Lie down. Get some rest. You need it. Just focus on resting and healing, okay?”
“Okay,” I whispered, trying to stem the flow of tears.
“Good,” she smiled. “I’m going to take care of everything. I’ll go leave a message for your boss. No details. I’ll just tell him you’re sick. Then I’m gonna go buy all your favorite comfort foods so we can have an all processed food feast when you wake up.”
“Thank you,” I managed, grateful for her support. With that, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up, I could tell it was much later in the day. My head still hurt, but I wasn’t as sore as before. I eased myself out of bed, being gentle with my stiff limbs. I went out to the living room, but Elle wasn’t there. Disappointed, I grabbed a glass of water and walked around the apartment, looking for my phone.
That’s when I remembered Elle telling me my phone was missing. Annoyed that on top of everything else, I’d have to pay for a new one, I noticed a bag of junk food on the kitchen counter. So Elle had gone shopping as she promised, but where was she now?
A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts, and I figured it must be Elle returning from wherever she’d gone off to. I rushed over and opened the door, only to find Marcus filling the doorway with his body and strange negative energy.
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Olivia?” Marcus barked. “Opening your door without even asking who’s there? What goes on in your head, woman?”
I stared at him, shocked at his cruel tone. I was about to shut the door in his face when he seemed to finally stop and look at me. His frown deepened and his fists clenched at his sides. Bruises from the assault bloomed on his cheeks and arms, and his normally handsome face looked drawn. He seemed somehow both older and younger than when I’d seen him mere hours ago.
“Sorry,” Marcus muttered, his voice quiet but still strained. “Can I come in?”
I stepped aside to let him into my apartment without saying a word. As soon as he was inside, he rushed through the space, opening closet doors and looking at everything. He even shut the curtains in the living room.
“Marcus, what in the world are you doing? Stop being weird and talk to me. Or at least stand still, you’re making my dizzy.”
“Can’t. I gotta make sure this place is locked down tight. You’re certainly not being careful with your safety.”
He was really starting to piss me off. “Me? Rich coming from the guy who abandoned me in a hospital. Where’s the care in that?”
He looked equal parts furious and appalled. “The fuck I did. Liv, I had to talk to my people and make some arrangements. I went back to the hospital as soon as I could, but you were already gone. I’ve been calling you for hours.” He raked his hand through his hair. “The only reason I knew you were home is the security team I have stationed outside checked in to let me know.”
My heart caught in my throat. Stunned to silence, I gestured for him to sit down. We settled in on opposite ends of the sofa, the space between us feeling wide as the ocean.
“Marcus, I… I’m sorry,” I began, my voice shaking. “I assumed the worst of you, again.”
“I get that a lot,” he said darkly. “But you don’t need to apologize to me. It’s my fault you got hurt.”
His green eyes were so filled with self-loathing and torment, I couldn’t stand it. I climbed into his lap and held his face between my hands. “I’m okay. Better than okay now that you’re here. No more arguments, no more apologies.”
I leaned forward, sliding my hands down around the back of his neck. Marcus made a sound somewhere between a growl and a moan as my weight shifted on top of him. Through both of our sets of clothes, I felt his arousal swelling.
“The hospital said I need to get lots of rest,” I said.
“Is that so?”
I nodded. “Yes. Take me to bed, Marcus.”
He grinned, but a flash of something unrecognizable crossed his face. Marcus looked down, eyeing my pink and yellow striped pajamas. “I like the sleepwear, but I’m not sure you need it.” His green eyes flashed with desire. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stood up, holding me like I weighed nothing. Our mouths found each other, our kisses deepening into something more erotic, more primal. Each touch of his lips against mine sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel my body responding to him, craving more, as he carried me through the apartment.
As we entered my bedroom, Marcus gently set me down on the bed, his gaze never leaving mine. He undressed me slowly, lifting my top over my head, then sliding my shorts over my hips and legs until I was completely bare before him. His eyes roamed over my body, lingering on every curve, every dip, every inch of exposed skin. “You are fucking perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with appreciation.
My breath hitched as I watched as he removed his own clothes, revealing the chiseled muscles and intricate tattoos that adorned his powerful frame. My fingers itched to trace the lines of his body, to explore every plane and angle. When he finally joined me on the bed, I reached out to touch him, delighting in the feel of his warm, taut skin beneath my fingertips.
Marcus leaned in, capturing my lips in another searing kiss as our hands roamed each other’s bodies, growing increasingly more intense by the second. Rolling onto his side, he caressed me, his fingers and mouth working in tandem as he explored every inch of my body. He started at my shoulders, his lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake as he moved down to my breasts. Sucking on my nipples, he elicited a moan from deep within me.
Pulling me close, Marcus slipped a hand between my thighs, his deft fingers playing with my pussy. He spread my wetness around before teasing my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through me. As he pushed a finger inside me and rubbed, I felt myself building toward a climax, my breath coming in heavy pants.
“Marcus,” I gasped, my body trembling as I reached the edge, then toppled over into an explosion of pleasure that left me delightfully dizzy and wanting more.
My body was trembling with the aftershocks of my orgasm, but Marcus didn’t stop. His fingers drove deep inside my slick channel. “Please,” I begged, writhing beneath him, “stop teasing me.”
Marcus leaned in close, his face filling my vision. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.
“Yes,” I answered, my voice a mix of desperation and demand.
He removed his fingers from me, and I whimpered at the sudden emptiness. But not for long; Marcus positioned himself between my thighs, his massive cock in hand, and slowly slid inside me. The stretch was overwhelming, but I loved taking every thick inch of him.
“Fuck, Olivia,” he muttered, keeping eye contact with me as he moved within me. “You’re so tight, baby. Gripping me so good.” His words fanned the flames of my desire, and I clasped his arms as he fucked me hard and deep, losing myself in the rhythm of our bodies coming together.
Another climax built within me, and as it reached its peak, I felt Marcus tense above me, a guttural groan escaping his lips. We came together in a whirlwind of swirling ecstasy.
Barely moments later, as I lay basking in the afterglow of the most amazing sex I’d ever had, Marcus planted a quick kiss on my lips and got out of bed. “I’m going to get us some water,” he said, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor.
My eyes drooped as I happily began to float away, something caught my attention. Marcus pulled something out of the pocket of his jeans before tugging them on. A cell phone that looked suspiciously like the one I’d lost.
I gasped, suddenly fully awake and on edge.
Marcus froze. He turned to face me, his expression completely locked down and unreadable. “Don’t worry, baby. Go to sleep. I’m right here.”
I made a noise of agreement, but his presence was a lot less comforting than before.