Free Dead in Bed by Bailey Simms, The Complete First Book by Adrian Birch Page B

watch
of Morgan’s pulse and the rate of her breathing, I did my best to clean the
blood from her body. I washed her face, her breasts, and her tummy, and then I
began gingerly cleaning her pubic hair and around her vagina, part of which had
actually been torn a little and was a source of some of the bleeding.
    “Oh, Morgan,” I
whispered, but I had no hope that she was able to hear me.
    Almost as soon as I'd
begun cleaning the blood off her tangled pubic hair, Morgan began to whimper
even though she was obviously still deeply unconscious. It was almost like she
was dreaming. The sound that came from her throat, though, was definitely not
one of pain or fear.
    Somehow, it was one of pleasure .
    Still totally
unconscious, she began grinding her pelvis, pressing against the washcloth and
my hand as I did my best to clean the blood from between the folds of her
vagina without hurting her. The whimpering started to grow into rhythmic moans.
    “Morgan, sweetie,” I
whispered. “What are you doing? Stay still, sweetie. Please wake up. Wake up.”
    Ian touched my arm.
Morgan was as cleaned up as she was going to be without putting her in a bath.
I pulled the warm washcloth away from between her legs. Right away, her moaning
subsided.
    “What the hell is this?” Ian took Morgan’s pulse once
again. “Her heart’s racing,” he said. “She’s also burning up." He gave me
a confused, desperate stare. "I’ve never seen anything like this.”
    Together we dressed
her in sweatpants and a T-shirt, then covered her with
the sheet.
    “We have to take her
to the hospital.” I looked at Ian. He was standing over Morgan, folding his
arms, staring at her. He wasn’t meeting my eye. “Right?” I said. “We have to
take her to the hospital.”
    Morgan lay almost
totally still now. Other than her swollen eyebrow, she appeared to be sleeping
more or less restfully. Ian placed his hand on her hot forehead yet again. It
was like he was trying to solve a puzzle, but was missing some essential piece.
    “The hospital isn’t a
good idea,” he said. It was almost as though he was talking to himself. “Not
now. I don’t know how safe it is there.”
    I remembered what Ian
had said about the armed guards surrounding the room of the girl who had been
attacked at the fair. He’d told me they wouldn’t even let the parents in to see
their daughter. Now that Morgan had been attacked, too, would they do the same
to her at the hospital? Would they take her away and lock her in some medical
facility to run who-knew-what kind of tests? Or worse?
    “Okay,” I said. “I
understand.” Or I thought I understood. I tried to trust Ian’s instincts.
“We’ll keep her here.”
    “No one can know where
she is.” Ian gave me a look that told me just how important this was. He was
dead serious. “No one,” he repeated. “This is the safest place for her. But you
have to tell your family not to tell a soul she’s here. You don’t have to say
why. They trust you. Tell them that someone burgled Morgan’s house, beat her
up, then killed Mr. Hershel when he tried to protect
her. That’s the story.”
    I nodded again.
    Ian rubbed his eyes.
He looked totally exhausted. And scared.
    “Stay here with
Morgan,” he said. “Give me a call from the land line if she wakes up or if
anything changes. I have to go take care of Mr. Hershel.”
     
    * * *
     
    Only a
minute or two after I heard Ian’s SUV pull out of the driveway, someone knocked
on the bedroom door.
    It was Shawn.
    Before I could stand
up from the bed, my husband had already opened the door and stepped inside the
room. He’d been sleeping on the couch, and he was in the sweats and the T-shirt
he used as pajamas.
    “What is going on ?” He was furious. “You have to tell
me what’s going on!” He stepped directly in front of me as if trying to block
me from running away. “Tell me now.”
    I put my hands on his
chest as calmly as possible and gently pushed him a step