groaning voice, a thud like a fist hitting skin and Francisco's Spanish accent crying out, “What the fuck...shit!” and more hurried footsteps fading away, a man’s heavy breathing, then silence.
My heart was pounding out of my chest, amped up on a sky-high adrenaline rush, but I had lost all my moxy and now I lay frozen in fear, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. More footsteps rushed towards me.
“Oh my God, Chloe! Are you alright?” A warm familiar voice released my eyelids and I looked up to see... Patrick?
“Let’s get you out of here.”
It’s Patrick... Patrick?! What’s he doing here? What’s he doing in Paris?
I felt his firm hands lifting my body, cradling me in his strong arms. After that, everything went black.
Chapter 10
Feeling the vibrations of the road and hearing the hum of an engine, I finally opened my eyes. I looked up into Patrick’s steel-blue eyes, the best sight I had seen for an eternity, as I laid my head on his chest in the back seat of the taxicab. He gently stroked my hair, smoothing it back from my upturned face. I tried to speak, but he placed a finger on my lips. “Shhh. Don’t speak, sweetheart. We need to get you to the emergency room. You look like you are in pretty bad shape.”
“No...no...not the hospital. Just take me to my room. I'll be okay.”
“Let’s get you checked out and we can go to the room after,” he insisted.
“No, I’m okay. He only hit me once. I just need some rest and I’ll be okay. Just take me home, please,” I whispered in a barely audible voice.
Speaking to the driver in fluent French, Patrick directed him to my hotel. I felt dizzy and nauseous and I just wanted to fade into the soothing comfort of Patrick’s familiar embrace.
Minutes later the cab drew up in front of my hotel, my legs felt like rubber walking into the foyer.
“Where is your key? I’ll take you to the room.”
My shaking hands struggled to dig it out of my purse, but I couldn’t manage and Patrick gently took over and found the hotel key. If Patrick hadn’t been there, I would have needed to go to the hospital, or I would have been dead. As we passed the front desk, he spoke in French to the concierges.
“Chloe, I just asked for a doctor to come take a look at you. There’s a pretty large bump on the back of your head and I want to make sure everything is okay,” he said peering at me with a look of deep concern on his face.
The most I could manage was a feeble nod. I was too overwhelmed to speak. He took me to my room and put me in bed, carefully removing my pretty white top and skirt, now smudged with dirt from the greasy alley.
Patrick sat with me until the doctor rapped on the door. He brought him to my bedside where the doctor listened to my heart and checked the dilation of my pupils. “You may have a concussion young lady,” was the doctor’s verdict. “Plenty of rest and water should do it. I will give you some medication that will help for the pain,” he said placing the pills in the palm of Patrick’s hand. “Don’t go on any flights for a couple of days and you should be fine.” He turned to Patrick with a look of concern and turning back asked, “Who did this to you? Do you want to file a police report?”
“No, I'm...”
“Yes she does,” Patrick replied firmly. “The bastard who did this is not going to get away with beating up other innocent girls like Chloe,” Patrick ranted, restraining his anger through clenched teeth.
“Well, alright. I shall inform the authorities of the incident and my report will show that you were assaulted with major abrasions to the face,” the doctor confirmed. “The police will be in touch tomorrow. They will come here for your statement.”
Patrick showed the doctor out and came back with a glass of water for me to wash down the pills. I eagerly swallowed two, welcoming their effect soon to come. As I laid in the bed, holding an ice pack the doctor had made, Patrick diligently sat on
My heart was pounding out of my chest, amped up on a sky-high adrenaline rush, but I had lost all my moxy and now I lay frozen in fear, squeezing my eyes shut tightly. More footsteps rushed towards me.
“Oh my God, Chloe! Are you alright?” A warm familiar voice released my eyelids and I looked up to see... Patrick?
“Let’s get you out of here.”
It’s Patrick... Patrick?! What’s he doing here? What’s he doing in Paris?
I felt his firm hands lifting my body, cradling me in his strong arms. After that, everything went black.
Chapter 10
Feeling the vibrations of the road and hearing the hum of an engine, I finally opened my eyes. I looked up into Patrick’s steel-blue eyes, the best sight I had seen for an eternity, as I laid my head on his chest in the back seat of the taxicab. He gently stroked my hair, smoothing it back from my upturned face. I tried to speak, but he placed a finger on my lips. “Shhh. Don’t speak, sweetheart. We need to get you to the emergency room. You look like you are in pretty bad shape.”
“No...no...not the hospital. Just take me to my room. I'll be okay.”
“Let’s get you checked out and we can go to the room after,” he insisted.
“No, I’m okay. He only hit me once. I just need some rest and I’ll be okay. Just take me home, please,” I whispered in a barely audible voice.
Speaking to the driver in fluent French, Patrick directed him to my hotel. I felt dizzy and nauseous and I just wanted to fade into the soothing comfort of Patrick’s familiar embrace.
Minutes later the cab drew up in front of my hotel, my legs felt like rubber walking into the foyer.
“Where is your key? I’ll take you to the room.”
My shaking hands struggled to dig it out of my purse, but I couldn’t manage and Patrick gently took over and found the hotel key. If Patrick hadn’t been there, I would have needed to go to the hospital, or I would have been dead. As we passed the front desk, he spoke in French to the concierges.
“Chloe, I just asked for a doctor to come take a look at you. There’s a pretty large bump on the back of your head and I want to make sure everything is okay,” he said peering at me with a look of deep concern on his face.
The most I could manage was a feeble nod. I was too overwhelmed to speak. He took me to my room and put me in bed, carefully removing my pretty white top and skirt, now smudged with dirt from the greasy alley.
Patrick sat with me until the doctor rapped on the door. He brought him to my bedside where the doctor listened to my heart and checked the dilation of my pupils. “You may have a concussion young lady,” was the doctor’s verdict. “Plenty of rest and water should do it. I will give you some medication that will help for the pain,” he said placing the pills in the palm of Patrick’s hand. “Don’t go on any flights for a couple of days and you should be fine.” He turned to Patrick with a look of concern and turning back asked, “Who did this to you? Do you want to file a police report?”
“No, I'm...”
“Yes she does,” Patrick replied firmly. “The bastard who did this is not going to get away with beating up other innocent girls like Chloe,” Patrick ranted, restraining his anger through clenched teeth.
“Well, alright. I shall inform the authorities of the incident and my report will show that you were assaulted with major abrasions to the face,” the doctor confirmed. “The police will be in touch tomorrow. They will come here for your statement.”
Patrick showed the doctor out and came back with a glass of water for me to wash down the pills. I eagerly swallowed two, welcoming their effect soon to come. As I laid in the bed, holding an ice pack the doctor had made, Patrick diligently sat on
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