Marcus blew out a sigh. "Lastly, I didn't tell you that she was the reason Nanette's husband left her for the pool boy. Which, if I read Sadie's actions right, considering she outed Charles Hardy in front of a room full of people and he was so relieved, he didn't give a damn but Nanette was so humiliated, she hasn't shown her face in society since, was Sadie's retribution for Nanette being mean to you."

Daisy glared at him.

Marcus waited.

Then Daisy spoke. "Let's get to the goddamned hospital."

Chapter Two.

Stretch My Legs A Bit.

Sadie.

I knew I was in the hospital before I opened my eyes.

Hospitals had a certain feel and a certain smell and, before I opened my eyes, I experienced both.

The first thing I saw was the ceiling. Then I decided, if they had a suggestion box, before I left I'd suggest they should get a ceiling cleaner. Sick people were on their backs a lot and the ceiling looked filthy. Major gross. Sick people didn't need to see that.

Then I realized I had to go to the bathroom, like, bad.

This kind of stunk considering when I looked down at my arm there were tubes and stuff sticking in it. Not easy to get to the bathroom with tubes stuck in you.

I also saw my wrist was in a cast but I blanked that out as quickly as I saw it.

I was kind of hoping some of those things sticking in my arm were what was taking the pain away.

I remembered the pain. I would never forget the pain. But I had the strength of mind borne of loads of practice to set the pain, and what caused it, aside.

For now.

As I looked down at my arm, on the floor I saw something weird.

It looked for all the world like a pair of cowboy boots. Not just cowboy boots but jeans and cowboy boots. Not just jeans and cowboy boots but legs in jeans and feet in cowboy boots. The legs were crossed at the ankle and stretched straight out.

I followed the legs up, up, up until I saw Hector "Oh my God" Chavez sleeping in a chair by my hospital bed.

Maybe I wasn't awake. Maybe I was dreaming.

I stared at him. His hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkled (or, more wrinkled than normal) and he needed a shave.

What was he doing there?

Oh my.

I remembered.

Oh no.

I remembered.

He'd been there. Last night, he'd been there.

He'd carried me from the stairs to the car then I passed out.

I woke up again when there was a commotion, a commotion caused when Luke Stark and a security guard were trying to pull Hector out of my emergency bay. Hector didn't want to go, as in, really didn't want to go.

How bizarre was that?

Maybe I dreamed that too.

I closed my eyes. Then I remembered I had to go to the bathroom.

Well, I knew one thing. I sure as certain wasn't going to call the nurse just in case Hector wasn't a dream. I didn't want him around when I explained what I needed.

Therefore I knew what I had to do. There was really only one choice.

It took some effort but I managed to twist and look at the bottom of my IV stand thingie. In the TV shows, they had wheels.

I sighed in relief. My IV stand thingie had wheels. I reached out, grabbed it and rolled it a bit down the bed and then stopped.

Hector's legs in jeans and feet in cowboy boots were in the way.

Darn. What to do now?

"What are you doing?"

My head jerked up and I saw Hector was no longer asleep. He still had his head against the high back of the chair, his forearms were still resting on the arms, hands dangling and his long legs were still stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

But his black eyes were open and they were on me.

"What are you doing?" he repeated his question then got up and approached the bed, coming to a stop at the side, towering over me.

My eyes followed him, my head tilting back as he got up and closer. I didn't answer.

"Sadie, talk to me. What are you doing?"

I didn't even try to be Ice Princess. In the circumstances I forgot all about being Ice Princess. I forgot that "Ms. Townsend, Ice Princess" even existed.

"I thought I'd take a walk," I answered.

His eyebrows went up. "You thought you'd take a walk?"

He sounded like this was more bizarre than the fact that he was even there which I thought was mega-bizarre in the extreme.

"Yes, I thought I'd stretch my legs a bit," I told him.

"You thought you'd stretch your legs a bit," he repeated, still sounding like he thought I was a touch crazy.

"Are you going to repeat everything I say?" I asked.

"Are you going to start making sense?" he returned.

I let go of the IV stand thingie and leaned back. "What's wrong with taking a walk?"

He stared at me hard for a second then looked away and lifted his arm. He tore his fingers through his hair, dropped his arm and looked back at me.

"We'll ring the nurse; see if you can take a walk."

"I'm sure I can walk."

"We'll ring the nurse."

"I don't want to ring the nurse."

"Why not?"

That was a good question.

I didn't have a good answer (or, at least, one I would tell him), so I said, "Because."

Then my eyes searched my room, fell on the bathroom (just checking, for when my time came) and they went back to him.

But when they went back to Hector, he was looking over his shoulder at the bathroom.

Before I knew what was happening, he moved my IV stand thingie, threw back the covers, put an arm behind my knees, one at my waist and lifted me up, one hand shoving the IV stand thingie in front of us as he carried me to the bathroom.

At first, I was frozen in horror.

Then I said, or more like whispered (also in horror), "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer. He walked to the bathroom, gently set me on my feet inside it, turned on his boot, walked out and closed the door behind him.

Someone, please tell me that did not just happen.

All right. All right.

Taking just enough time to set that aside too (for now), I went about my business. This was unpleasant. It hurt.

I set that aside too.

When I was done, I stood in the bathroom, looked down and surveyed myself.

I was in a hospital gown, luckily not one of those that had the back open all the way down, just a big opening at the upper back tied shut. I had a cast on my wrist, two bags dripping into my arm from the IVs and a completely ruined manicure.

I saw bruises and cuts on my arms, more bruises around my good wrist and, pulling up the gown, I saw some on my legs, loads of bruising on my knees.

My midriff hurt, like loads, in fact I hurt all over and I had a dull headache. Other, more specific parts of me ached too but I was setting that aside.

I went to the mirror and looked at myself. Then I reached out and grabbed the sink with my good hand at what I saw.

I dropped my head forward, closed my eyes and leaned into my hand.

My own visage was burned into the backs of my eyelids. Two black eyes, very swollen, not shut but not pretty either. My nose was also seriously swollen but didn't look broken (but what did I know?). And a huge white bandage was taped to my cheekbone and I knew what that hid, I'd felt the skin opening there. And I'd felt the blood.

Monstrous.

The door opened behind me and I heard the sound of boots. Then I felt heat at my back, just that, no touch, just his heat.

"Sadie," Hector said softly.

"Go away," I replied, even more softly.

He didn't go away. He picked me up again and did the whole carrying-me-pushing-my-IV-stand back into the room thing, laid me on the bed and threw the covers back on me.

I laid back and pulled the covers high up with my good hand which, luckily, as I was right-handed, was my right one. I held onto the covers, closed my eyes and turned my face in the opposite direction of Hector.

"Mamita, look at me." His voice was still soft.

"Go away," I repeated, my voice was still soft too.

"We need to talk."

"Go away."

"Sadie," he murmured gently.

That's when I found her, she wasn't very far. She slid into my skin easily because normally, she lived there.

I opened my eyes, turned my head and looked at Hector. Regardless of what had happened to me last night, what he had seen, what he'd done last night and just now and the way I looked, I was calm, assured and ice cold.

"Go... away," I enunciated it very clearly so there was plenty of time for the icicles to form on both words.

It was then, to my shock (because no one penetrated the ice fortress, no one, not even my father), Hector leaned forward so close he was barely a couple of inches away. He put one hand on my pillow and the other one hit the bed low, by my waist.

I drew in breath.

Still with a soft voice he said, "She's in there. Now I've seen her twice. Three times, if you count when you lost it in Lee's office and nearly ripped open your palms with your own fuckin' fingernails."

Oh my.

He didn't give me a chance to respond, he kept talking. "I know she's in there and I'm warnin' you, Sadie, I'm gonna pull her out."