She’dtoldmetomake myself at home, but that wasn’t happening. I couldn’t relax when I was meant to be working and even though we were safe in the hotel, I was still on the clock.
I stood by the elevator, waiting for Frankie to finish in the bath, at least knowing I could keep her safe if anyone tried to come up to the penthouse. I relaxed into my familiar stance. Legs wide and arms crossed across my chest, wondering briefly how many hours I’d stood like this over the last few years, working the doors of various London clubs.
She’d been gone about half an hour, and I wondered how long one person could lie in the bath. I’d never understood the fascination.Give me a shower any day.When I didn’t hear a noise or any movement, I moved closer to her suite, panicking slightly because I didn’t know what was going on in there.
After forty-five minutes, I knocked, concern driving me to check that nothing was wrong, but there was no answer. I pushed the door open, calling her name, but she didn’t reply. In the end, I stepped inside the large space and found what I presumed was the bathroom, knocking on the door.
Nothing.
“Frankie,” I called.
Still nothing.
I knocked harder.
“Frankie. You’re worrying me, so unless you want me to come in there, let me know you’re okay. Now, please.”
Silence.
“Frankie,” I was yelling now, in case she had her earbuds in.
Feeling the telltale pull in my belly that something was wrong, I knew I needed to do something. I’d relied on that feeling for so many years in my time on the police force, but I’d chosen to ignore it since I lost Emma and Alfie because when I needed it the most, it failed me. When I got home that night, it didn’t tell me anything was wrong. But right now, the pull was too strong to ignore.
“Last chance, Frankie. I’m coming in.”
I tried the door handle; thankful she’d not locked it. Stepping inside, I found the bath empty. That’s when I noticed her. Naked. Laid out on the bathroom floor. Blood dripping from a gash on her head onto the white tiled floor.
“Jesus, woman. What the hell have you done to yourself?”
Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it over her, trying to ignore her nakedness. I lifted her gently, using my forearm to support her head so I could take a closer look at the cut across her temple.
My hands pressed against the bare skin of her back and thighs as I carried her to her bed, pretending I didn’t notice the way my heart quickened from touching her like this. Pulling back the sheets, I laid her down, covering her with the sheets before returning to the bathroom, throwing towels onto the puddle of water she’d left, and looking for a first aid kit.
Finding one, I took it back to the bedroom to clean and dress her wound. As I was securing the dressing to her head, she began to stir, moaning and twisting her body. Eventually, her eyes flicked open, and she groaned, staring up at me with a confused look on her face.
“What happened?”
“You tell me. I found you out cold on the floor.”
“I think I slipped.” Her fingers moved to her temple. “Ow.”
“You should probably get that checked out. You might have a concussion.”
“I’m not going to hospital. The press will have a field day. Can you call Addi?”
I pulled my phone from my back pocket and made the call, explaining what had happened. Addi gave me a number for the doctor and thanked me for taking care of Frankie, sounding distracted by whatever chaos was going on in the background where she was.
Fifteen minutes later, the doctor arrived. He checked Frankie’s wound, before flashing a light in her eyes to make sure her pupils weren’t showing signs of anything more serious going on inside her head.
“I think she’ll be fine, but any headaches, blurred vision, or if she starts vomiting, I want you to call me. Okay? Also, someone should probably stay with her. Wake her every couple of hours to make sure she’s not developing symptoms.”
“I can do that.”
I showed the doctor out to the private elevator, noticing there was no security inside to escort him down, adding that to my ever growing list of things that needed changing about the way things were handled around here.
When I got back to her suite, Frankie was standing, wrapped in a towel, searching through her dresser drawers.
“I’m not sureleap out of bedcame out of the doctor’s mouth, Frankie.”