Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

MILLIE

I felt somewhat detached from my body—my mind was like static on a television screen, fuzzy and out of focus. Though, if I was cognizant enough to draw similarities between myself and dysfunctional electronics, I was more than likely going to be fine.

But everything hurt.

Listening to the unfamiliar sounds around me, I groaned—willing my eyelids open then closing them just as quickly. Shit . Why was it so bright in here?

Reaching up to shield my eyes, I hissed at the unexpected tugging sensation. Peeking through my lashes, I spotted the culprit taped to my arm. Was that an IV?

With determination, I forced my eyelids open once more. Taking in the sterile environment, realization dawned fairly quickly—I was in the hospital. Which tracked, considering the dull aching I felt throughout my entire body. But how did I get here? I spotted a sleeping Greer tucked into a straight back chair that was shoved into the corner of the room.

What happened to me? When I tried to recall the previous evening, the fuzziness returned.

Why couldn’t I fucking remember?

The steady hum of the monitor attached to the wall beside me increased in tempo until it was chirping an alarm loud enough to wake the dead. I grimaced as my head thrummed to its beat. A bleary-eyed Greer was immediately at my side followed closely by a woman in royal blue scrubs.

“What’s wrong?” Greer demanded, turning to face the woman I assumed was my nurse. The older woman patted her shoulder then came to the other side of the bed.

“My name’s Loretta, and I’m going to be taking care of you today,” the nurse stated, reaching up to silence the blaring alarm. “Can you tell me your name, dear?”

“Millie Rushing,” I said in a whisper, and she gave an encouraging nod.

“Are you in any pain?” she asked.

“My head hurts,” I admitted. “A lot, and these bright lights and that alarm aren’t helping.”

“That’s to be expected,” she stated matter-of-factly. “You have a pretty severe concussion, Millie.”

“W-what? How?” I asked, certain my face reflected my rising horror. She glanced up at Greer and then to the door but didn’t answer. Which frightened me even more. I swiftly turned my head in the direction of the door, and the room spun. I closed my eyes, hoping to ward off the mounting nausea, but not before spotting the uniformed deputy stationed outside my room.

“I’m going to let the doctor know you’re awake,” Loretta said as she used a small light to torture my eyeballs.

I flinched at the brightness as well as Greer’s harsh, “Is that really necessary?”

“Yes,” she replied without pausing her assessment. “I’ll be back in soon with the doctor. If you need anything at all before I return, press this button here,” she instructed before stepping into the hallway.

Looking to my friend for answers, I caught her fingers flying over the screen of her phone before she pocketed it. Swallowing audibly as her gaze met mine, we stared at each other for a few moments. Neither one of us ready to tackle the looming conversation.

I grabbed at the stiff blanket covering my body, fidgeting with the coarse fabric before clearing my throat.

Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered a rushed, “I’m so sorry. I never should have made you go home last night.”

Before I could reply, a man in a white lab coat waltzed through the door with Loretta close on his heels.

“Ms. Rushing, my name is Dr. Carlisle, and I am overseeing your care here at Ridge County Memorial Hospital.”

He appeared competent enough. Probably a few years older than me.

Should I thank him? My brain was scrambled at this point, and basic etiquette was requiring some serious thought. Finally, I settled on an awkward, “Hi, I’m Millie.”

Which I instantly realized he knew, given he had addressed me by name upon entering the room. I moved to palm my forehead, then spotted the IV tubing and thought better of it.

Everyone was staring at me when I glanced back up, and I felt the blush highlight my features as heat rushed to my face. The alarm started up again, and I closed my eyes as tears welled in them—the droplets spilling down my overheated cheeks. This was already too much, and I didn’t even know what was going on.

Commotion at the doorway made my lids fly open. My eyes landed on Emmett—his presence instantly enveloping me like a warm hug.

He pushed his way to my bedside, ignoring everyone else in the room. All of whom were now silent, including the shrill monitor. One of his hands reached to hold mine while the other swiped at a stray tear rolling down my cheek.

“Hey, honey,” was all he said before he invaded my space—his lips landing on mine for a brief yet passionate kiss. All I could do was stare as he pulled back. Still holding onto my hand, he positioned himself so he was facing our small audience.

“What did I miss?” Emmett asked.

I think the better question was what had I missed. Because the way he kissed me felt foreign yet familiar. Like coming home after a long time away.

Both the kiss and how much I enjoyed it threw me so off kilter, I almost missed the doctor’s reply. “I just introduced myself to Ms. Rushing and was about to ask her some questions as well as go over some of her test results,” Dr. Carlisle said then asked, “and you are?”

“Emmett Ranger,” Emmett relayed bluntly.

“Let me rephrase,” Dr. Carlisle clarified, crossing his arms. “Who are you in regards to Ms. Rushing?”

For fuck’s sake. It didn’t take a genius to spot the pissing match occurring in front of me. It was blatantly obvious, even to me—someone who was evidently recovering from a head injury.

I needed more information on that.

“Does it really matter?” I exhaled. “Please continue with what you were about to say before Emmett came in,” I requested as Emmett gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, which I returned. The doctor had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed while Emmett gave him a smug smile of satisfaction. I rolled my eyes only to immediately regret it as zaps of pain peppered the inside of my skull.

My head hurt worse as the doctor started to list an array of injuries that must have been for the patient next door. There was no way I had a severe concussion, dislocated shoulder, three fractured ribs, as well as stitches in my arm, steri-strips on my forehead, and superficial cuts on my feet. The doctor continued explaining that while I had been stable for the entirety of my stay, I’d been in and out of consciousness.

This was, evidently, my first truly lucid moment since my arrival earlier that morning.

I slowly nodded in understanding at the appropriate intervals but had never been more confused in my life. “What questions do you have?” Dr. Carlisle asked as he palmed a beeping pager. And while there were a countless number of them crowding my mind, I didn’t voice any. Instead, I kept nodding.

“How long do you expect her to be here? I need to schedule around-the-clock security,” Emmett said with an air of authority.

“I would say no more than a night or two if no complications arise,” Dr. Carlisle answered, stepping toward the door. “If you think of anything else, have Loretta page me,” he added before jogging out the door. Loretta followed after confirming I didn’t need anything.

Greer made some excuse and rushed out as well, closing the door behind her, leaving me alone with Emmett.

I hadn’t recovered from our kiss, but I pushed the thought of his lips on mine away to focus on the overwhelming information I’d just been handed. I needed more context on…well…everything.

“Emmett,” I said. The word came out more breathy than I anticipated. So I followed it with a hasty, “What happened?”

I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know.

Waiting as he grabbed the chair Greer had been sleeping in and positioned it at my bedside, I pulled at the loose strands of my muted green blanket. He sat, leaning forward on his knees, and grabbed my hand again—cocooning it in both of his.

I knew he was preparing himself to deliver news that would be hard for both of us to hear. So I braced myself as best I could. This was going to hurt, too, but it was unavoidable.

“I don’t remember anything,” I whispered.

Emmett took a deep breath, drawing my full attention, then said, “As much as your recollection of last night’s events could help us with this case, I’m thankful you don’t remember.” There was pain etched on his face as he continued, “I’ll gladly carry those memories for the both of us if it means you aren’t burdened with them.”

“I need to know what happened to me, Emmett,” I confessed, internally grappling with the various possibilities. All of which were increasingly terrifying. But before I could spiral, Emmett gripped my chin. Using his thumb to caress the corner of my mouth, his gaze dropped to my lips. He sighed and pulled away, using the hand that had been on my face to rake down his own.

“Here’s what I know so far,” he started, albeit reluctantly. “You returned home from Rory’s sometime after midnight according to Greer’s timeline. You made it home and inside without issue. At some point, between your arrival home and three in the morning, there was a home invasion. My guess is you were asleep in your room when the break-in occurred because all evidence suggests you locked yourself inside your bedroom before breaking the window and climbing down the lattice.”

I sat there blinking at Emmett as my mind raced. Of all the scenarios I considered, this definitely hadn’t been one of them. But if he was right, then how did I get all of these injuries?

My confusion must have been evident. “I still have more questions than answers, but I think this scenario is more accurate than not. Considering you almost made it to my house before collapsing and hitting your head on a root.”

That explains the concussion, at least.

“Just another reason to hate that house. The only good thing to come from it was Jet,” I said then froze as fear dug its claws in deeper.

“Where is my cat?” I asked tentatively.

“He saved your life, Millie,” Emmett answered before reaching into his pocket and pulling his phone out. “So, he’s living the dream at my house.” He swiped until he found what he was looking for then flipped it around to show me the screen. I squinted at a photo of Jet lounging on top of a three-tier cat tree in Emmett’s living room. “I had Vincent’s deliver it, and Rory put it together.”

I should be out of tears at this point but more started to fall. Reaching up, I wiped at them with the back of my hand.

“I couldn’t sleep and was headed to the gym in my garage when he found and led me to you,” Emmett said in a strained voice.

More tears. They wouldn’t stop, and a sob I’d been trying to hold onto escaped from my lips. Before I knew what was happening, the bed dipped, and Emmett slid his strong arms around my body. Mindful of all my injuries as well as the tubes and wires attached to me, he maneuvered us so he was cradling me against him.

My hand settled on his chest, and I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my palm. He carefully rested his chin on top of my head, and I burrowed into his embrace.

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, having fallen asleep at some point. But I woke with a start to find Emmett deep in conversation with a disheveled Rory in the doorway of my room. Dressed in lounge pants, an oversized long-sleeve shirt hanging off one shoulder, and cushioned slides with socks—Rory shuffled in place causing her messy bun to slip further to one side.

“She’s not going to go for that, Emmett,” Rory whisper-hissed while insistently pointing to me.

“I wish I could offer her more options, but this is the safest one,” Emmett said, sounding defeated.

“She could stay with me,” Rory rebutted, half-heartedly stomping her foot.

“Rory, you live in a studio apartment,” Emmett murmured as he shook his head. “She can’t stay with you,” he added with finality. Rory huffed at the same time I cleared my throat.

Two sets of striking green eyes landed on me, as I narrowed mine on them. “Care to tell me what you two are discussing over there?” I inquired as I adjusted myself in the bed, wincing at the twinge in my side.

Rory flailed her arms and produced a pillow from thin air, shouting, “Stop! Let me help you!”

I cringed at the volume of her voice. “Here,” Emmett snapped and grabbed the pillow from her before she could take a step forward. “Let me. And keep your voice down.”

Adequately reprimanded, Rory stuck both hands in the air and mouthed, “Sorry!” as she lowered herself to sit on the corner of my hospital bed. After ensuring I was comfortable, Emmett chose to remain standing.

I raised an eyebrow, and Emmett sighed. He looked so tired and gave in too easily. “I can’t let you stay at the Bennett’s farmhouse.”

Both of my eyebrows shot higher, reaching for my hairline. But the steri-strips stuck to my forehead forced me to tame my overzealous facial expression.

We might be tiptoeing the line of friendship, but I sincerely hoped he didn’t think he could order me around. Hell no. One toxic relationship was enough to last a lifetime.

I looked from Emmett to Rory, and she was smirking at him. He moved to grip the back of the chair beside my bed. “Millie, your house is a crime scene. I legally can’t let you go inside while it’s part of an active investigation.”

Well… shit .

All right. I could make this work. I hated that house from the moment I stepped foot in it, anyway. Maybe I could use this as a means to break my lease. That would be the silver lining of this storm cloud.

“That…makes sense,” I admitted. “If possible, I’ll need some clothes, my laptop, and my cell phone, though.” Everything else I could pick up from Vincent’s.

“We found your cell phone.” Emmett grimaced. “But it’s broken.”

How lovely .

I still needed my laptop sooner rather than later. I had clients to follow up with, work to do, and parents to worry. “We’ll work on getting you a new one,” he assured me.

I nodded. What else could I do? A broken phone was low on the list of concerns when compared to everything else that had occurred.

“Guess, I need to find a new place to stay,” I muttered. It was doubtful there were any available rentals given the short notice, and I wouldn’t be able to afford them even if there were considering I was still obligated to my lease. And evidently needed a new phone.

“About that,” Emmett started, but Rory cut him off.

“You know you’re welcome to stay with me anytime,” she said with a smile. And I returned it with one of my own.

“Thank you so much,” I voiced, gratitude woven into each word. I definitely hit the jackpot when I befriended Rory Ranger. Greer, too.

I peered up at Emmett, and even though his expression had soured, I found myself grateful for him most of all.

Until he started shaking his head.

“No,” he stated adamantly.

“Why the fuck not?” I bit back.

Rory let out a pumped, “Yeah!” in solidarity.

“Because Rory lives in a studio apartment.” He eyed his sister before gritting out, “A detail I already reminded her of.” Emmett rolled his eyes, like the answer should have been obvious, and I pursed my lips.

“What about Greer?” I suggested, even though I knew the answer. She lived in a secluded spot even closer to the mountains with unreliable cell service. As a person who worked remotely, that sounded like my worst nightmare.

He cocked his head and let out an exasperated grunt.

“You’re staying with me,” he said on a sigh, as if he knew I was going to argue.

“And if I say no?” I asked with vigor.

“Don’t,” he voiced with a softness I wasn’t expecting.

I started shaking my head, ready to refuse his offer that was really more of a demand than a suggestion. I needed control over something…anything.

“You staying with Greer would be a logistical nightmare. Maintaining a security detail that far from town would be a huge undertaking and tie up department resources I could use elsewhere. Plus, there is limited cell service which would pose a problem for you, I’d assume.”

He delivered his argument so smoothly, I’d bet he rehearsed it a time or two. And while part of me wanted to fight back, just for the sake of it, I was too tired, and his reasons were too valid.

With one final shake of my head, I agreed, “Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, roomie.”