He walked with me slowly to the door and then, once we were in the hall, started talking to me conversationally about parts of the ship.
I put on a smile as best as I could and spoke only enough to say “uh-huh” and seem interested in what he talked about.
A couple of older women were heading to the library, and they scooted out of our way as we made our exit. I kept my eyes on Marc.
He never wavered. He held on to me, kissed my forehead, and cuddled into me, only the cuddle was supportive, holding me up.
It was odd because it felt like he wasn’t faking. He didn’t have to hold me so close, or even kiss me. He did it anyway.
My heart was pounding with fear about being discovered, but I was having problems with this new attitude from all of them. Acceptance? Marc had had plenty of time to ask me about Brandon and the others while he was waiting for me to get myself together, but he never said a word.
Maybe he didn’t think it was the right time, but…nothing? No consequences for allowing other guys to kiss me and do other things with me? For not telling him about it?
Or maybe I had been hit in the head harder than I thought, and I was misjudging every look and touch he was giving me.
Maybe I did have a concussion.
Maybe I was going crazy.
Heart True
The ship’s hospital staff was minimal that morning, but the doctor saw me right away, a nurse leading me to an exam room.
Marc argued at the door he should stay with me and be allowed inside, but the doctor kept him out.
It was immediately obvious as soon as the doctor looked at me that he remembered my face.
“You didn’t get this from cramps, did you? Did they make you fall again?” he asked as he examined the cut on my head.
“No,” I said. Marc had told him I’d slipped on the pool deck. No other real details. I didn’t want to make up some weird story and have to remember it.
After the doctor checked my head and cleaned the wound, he stood in front of me.
He pulled a red pen from the pocket of his white coat.
“Do you see this?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Try not to move your head,” he said. He put the pen in his pocket. “You say you were at the pool?”
“Yes.”
“Did you eat breakfast this morning?”
My answer seemed to take forever to come to my mouth. “I had a muffin earlier.” How was this important?
He squinted at me. “What did I just show you from my pocket?”
I blinked at him. “What?”
“I showed you something from my pocket. Do you remember?”
For the life of me, I didn’t. I glanced down at his pocket and thought hard, way too hard, about what had just happened two seconds ago.
“Do you know who brought you here?” he asked. “Do you remember?”
I knew this answer, but it took me a full minute, literally, going through every name in my brain to draw up the right one. “Marc,” I said, then grunted. “My head hurts. Can’t I just have something for that?”
“I think you’ve got a concussion,” the doctor said. “You can have medicine, but I need to keep an eye on you and ask you more questions.”
He continued to ask me questions and interjected several times, showing me an object and then hiding it, asking me later what I saw.
Five out of six times, I got it wrong.
My heart went into overdrive on the last incorrect answer. “Is this bad?”
“No,” he said and he wrote something in his notes. “But hitting your head can be a serious problem. Stress can aggravate this, too. You might have other symptoms, too. Changes in smell and taste, inability to concentrate, irritability…” He looked over his notes at me. “Given your previous reason for coming here, you should check in with your doctor when you get home. I won’t keep you here overnight if you promise to stay in your cabin until we get to shore. Call room service. Just relax. Come see me if you experience any other symptoms or have any discomfort. I’ll give you a list of what to look out for.”
I wasn’t satisfied with that, but my head hurt so much that I didn’t want to ask him any more questions. It bothered me that I couldn’t remember things. How long would that last?
What other symptoms would I have?
He gave me medicine for the headache and told me again I was restricted to resting. No swimming and no activities.
“That won’t be hard to do on this ship, at least for a few days,” he’d said. “Check in with me tomorrow morning. Tell your boyfriend anything and everything that seems odd. I’ll need to tell him what to look out for.”
Rest? Right now was the worst time to rest. I wanted to go help Brandon.
But first I had to get out of this hospital. I lied through my teeth, promising not to move much for at least a week and to see my doctor once we got back to shore.
While the doctor went to get some medications for me, I checked the pockets in my slacks, finding Brandon’s cell phone and the USB stick he’d given me. I was surprised to find them and then felt lucky I hadn’t dropped them.
The USB stick seemed okay. I checked his cell, finding the pictures that I’d taken still there. At least I hadn’t dropped it.
I was flipping through the photos when I spotted a couple of me. I didn’t remember Brandon taking them, but it looked like I hadn’t been paying attention. There was one of me watching TV with Raven, the photo centered on me, Raven’s image cut off the edge.
There was another one of me in the hospital, sleeping. He and I had spent a while in that hospital room together and it was easy to recognize. There weren’t any stored photos from before that one.
I held on to the phone, tracing my thumb over the hard case. I was touched by how he’d kept photos of me, and then I became overwhelmed by sudden tears.
He’d started saving pictures of me after we’d been kidnapped. Something had changed in him to want to save those.
He’d said he loved me. Had he known then?
Had I ruined it? He’d said he understood why I backed off, but did he know that things like being sweet and saving pictures of me made it hard to choose? How was I going to tell him about Blake?
Wait, had I told him about Blake? I tried to remember. My head was swimming with thoughts of that morning, of Axel last night, of Raven’s face. Waking up to Marc’s.
I was still trying to figure out what was in the doctor’s pockets.
I hid the phone before the doctor returned.
When I was finally released, the pain medicine I’d been given started to take effect. I wasn’t sleepy, just hungry, and it was even harder to think clearly. He’d given me pills for pain and different ones to help me sleep.
Marc was allowed to come in the exam room at the end to help me leave.
I didn’t have the wig anymore and the contacts were gone. The only thing left was the makeup, but that might not be enough to hide my identity. I hid my face behind Marc’s shoulder as he encouraged me to hang on to his elbow again.
“Just in case,” he said, although a coy little smile played on his lips.
I didn’t understand him at all. Marc usually toyed with me, and now he seemed too nice. Was it because I had bumped my head?
We took a long route around the ship to avoid people, but I realized at the last turn we were heading toward Doyle’s lair.
I groaned.
“I know,” Marc said. “He’s annoying, but we’ve had to make Doyle’s place the center for every bit of information. He can pass on anything to everyone.”
“What about Blake’s old spot?”
His cheeks reddened and he shrugged. “Compromised. It was my fault,” he said. “We were streaming in and out of there to drop off information, and it attracted the attention of some crew members. We had to shut it down. At least on this floor, there’s only the occasional crew member. Avery assigned
me, and Kevin got assigned to this area to stop too many of them from coming by.”