Hustle (Book 1 in The Hunted Hearts) - SYTYCW Winner #action #comedy #romance

Hustle | Chapter 14

Copyright 2013 - All Rights Reserved

Hustle By Claire Chilton

14

Recovery

Spikes of pain shot through Ellie's body. She screamed in agony.

Hold on. It will be over soon.

A voice echoed through her mind, but she couldn't tell if it was real or part of the nightmare.

She tried to open her eyes, but her lids were too heavy to move. She was aware of sharp pains digging into her shoulder while a dense fog settled over her mind. She panted through the pain until it subsided, collapsing as her mind wavered between consciousness and unconsciousness.

You're going to be okay, I promise. I'll take care of you.

Reassured, she let herself drift away.

When she eventually woke up, she groaned and rolled over onto her side. Every muscle in her body ached. She opened one eye and squinted at the sunlight streaming through the cabin window. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the brightness. She glanced around the small cabin, a frown forming on her brow.

Where the hell am I?

Ellie tried to remember where she'd gone to sleep, but she didn't even remember getting into bed. Her mind was fuzzy. She glanced at the bottle of tequila resting on the bedside table.

Was I drunk?

She sat up and winced as pain shot down her arm. She peered at her shoulder, frowning at the clean bandage taped to it. Her memories slowly returned.

I got shot!

She recalled her escape into the jungle and finding her boat in the marina, but everything after that was a blur.

She gingerly pushed herself upright. Her legs felt like lead. Pain bloomed around her shoulder, echoing down her arm and her back.

She sank back into the pillows.

Maybe now isn't the time to get up.

She glanced at the cabin door.

Who patched me up?

"Hello?" she called out.

She heard footsteps above her. She saw a pair of tan boots come into view as they climbed down the stairs towards the cabin, followed by a pair of jean-clad legs.

Her heart sank when the face of her rescuer came into view.

Jacob fucking Hawkins! The guy who shot me!

Jacob looked worried as he hurried down the last step towards the end of the bed, but she wasn't buying whatever he was selling.

"What? You're disappointed I'm not dead yet?" she asked.

His concerned expression turned into a scowl. "I'm surprised you're not dead yet. Of all the stupid things to do, you decide to go running into the jungle after being shot." He folded his arms. "Stay in that bed while you heal up, or so help me God—"

"What? I'll get shot again by a complete dick?" she interrupted. She was pleased to see that her parting gift was still faintly visible.

His scowl deepened. "Probably, yes! You're obviously a pro at putting yourself in the stupidest situations."

"Funny, the only danger I seem to run into is when I'm around you!" She clenched her hands into fists, and her arm muscles ached, reminding her that she was too weak to deal with him right now.