Free Trying to Survive (The Kiser #1) by Hannah Davenport

of water and placed the straw in my mouth.   Taking a drink, I tried again.   “Where am I?”   I rasped out.   Her face looked concerned, but then she
smiled and it felt like warmth in the middle of a blizzard.
         “You’re in my hotel room.   You
were badly hurt and I didn’t know what else to do.   I’m sorry.”
          Hurt?   I tried to think back but could only see
pieces.   I didn’t understand what exactly
was going on.   “What are you doing, why
are you here?”   I didn’t know who she was
but I regretted asking her that question when I saw sadness and tears fill her
eyes.
         She smiled and then quietly said, “Just like you, I’m trying to
survive.”   The back of her hand swiped
her face to remove a stray tear.   She
shouldn’t cry.   Angels should never
cry.   “I’m going to order you some lunch
and then give you more pain medicine.”  
         I wanted to tell her not to, that she shouldn’t trouble herself, but I
couldn’t find my voice.   All I could do
was stare at the gorgeous woman in my line of sight.   I heard her on the phone but then I must have
fallen back asleep.
         “Wake up, lunch is here.”   She
gently shook me.   Feeding me vegetable soup,
I ate it like a toddler.   Embarrassed, I
tried to look away.   After I finished she
placed some pills on my tongue and told me to swallow.   The next think I knew, blackness engulfed me.
         Opening my eyes the next morning, I noticed the sun streaming through
the window.   My eyes, they were more open
today.   Everything started to rush back
again.   Not only did I remember the alley
where three men attack me, I remembered the woman telling me it would be okay
and making me stand and walk toward the street.   Turning my head, I saw her sitting there watching me.   She smiled.   “Good morning.   You look much better
today.”
         Clearing my throat, “Thank you, I feel better…I think.”   She walked over and handed me some water.
         “I ordered you breakfast.   Would
you like some more oatmeal?”   She went to
get it but I stopped her.
         “No, I’m not that hungry.”   Her
smile faded and she stood there and looked at me for a moment, like she was
hesitating.
         “Listen, I’m sorry that you were hurt, and I’ve tried to help you but I
have to go home today. My plane leaves in an hour and I have to leave
soon.   Is there someone I can call for
you?”   She looked at me with sympathetic
eyes.
         What on earth was she talking about.   She has to go home?   What did that
mean?   Maybe my mind was still
fuzzy.   Who could I call?   “Matt, you can call Matt.”   He would help me without judging.   Yes, Matt would be good.
         “Okay, do you have his number?”   She asked with such sincerity that I almost believed she didn’t know who
I was and who I hang with…almost.  
         “555-1937.” I saw her grab her cell phone and I almost laughed.   Of all the ways to be able to get in touch
with me, this was new.   I watched as she
tapped her screen and then put the phone to her ear.
         “Hello?   Is this Matt?”   I listened to her side of the conversation.   This should be good.   “I found a man almost dead in an
alleyway.   He is finally awake and is
asking that I call you.”   I waited to
hear more but I must have fallen back asleep, that is until she touched my
shoulder.  
         Looking at me, she said, “Your friend said he’s been worried sick, and
he’ll be right here.”   She sat down and
started running her fingers through my hair as if she’d done it a million times
before.   When she realized what she was doing,
she looked horrified and jerked her hand back.   “Sorry.”   She muttered.
         “That’s okay, it felt good.”   Actually, it felt better than good, it felt… comforting and that was a
new concept for me.
         Fifteen minutes later,