Missy Johnson: Provoke

Sighing, I shifted in the bed. Everything hurt. My fucking toes hurt. My arm was killing like a motherfucker, and I felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest a couple of hundred times.

How long have I been here?

I struggled to remember what had happened. I was desperate for answers. What time was it? Glancing over at Leet again, I watched as she stirred. Her eyes opened and she stared at me, shocked. She blinked, as if she didn’t trust her own vision.

“You're awake,” she said, getting to her feet. Crouching at my side, she reached for my hand and held it between hers, tears springing in her eyes as she smothered me with kisses. I managed a smile. Hell, even that hurt.

“What happened?” I asked. Fuck, my throat is dry. I pointed to the water jug on the table beside my bed, rocking my wrist in a drinking motion.

“You don't remember anything?” she asked, her voice soft as she poured the water.

I shook my head. She tilted my head, placing the cup at my lips. The cold liquid felt strange against my cracked lips, but I swallowed. Anything to ease the burning pain in my throat.

“I remember leaving you in the car, and then it's only fuzzy after that,” I said, my voice scratchy.

“You were beat up pretty bad,” she said, her voice soft.

“You came after me?”

She shook her head. “No, he knew that I was with you. He—one of the other guys—came down to the car and got me. He took me up to the warehouse.”

I struggled to sit up. “Did they hurt you?”

She shook her head, her eyes not quite meeting mine. What wasn’t she telling me?

“You've got a broken collarbone, three broken ribs, and some pretty nasty bruises,” she explained, her fingers stroking my arm.

That explains the pain.

“I'm going to get a doctor, okay?”

I nodded, watching her as she walked out of the room. How badly had they hurt her? The bruising around her face was a soft pink, but her eye had still looked pretty swollen. God help me, if they touched her…I couldn’t even think about that at the moment.

Leets returned a few minutes later with a doctor at her heels. He smiled at me and walked over to the bed, checking my vitals on the screen that all the wires connected back to.

“Mr Jordan, good to see you’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like I have been hit by a truck.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “Your injuries were pretty severe. “I'm aware that you don't wish to report this to the police, but I must advise you that this is an option for you.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He nodded. “We will keep you in a few more days, just to monitor you. And then you can do the rest of your recuperating at home.” He smiled at Leeta and then walked out.

She took my hand again, sandwiching it between hers.

“You’re going to be staying with me. No argument.”

“I wasn't planning on arguing,” I chuckled. “So, what happened?” I asked again.

Her face darkened. “I don't even know where to begin. Luke? He wasn't lying, he was a cop. But I did some digging and found out the case he was working on had nothing to do with the live rapes. The ring was being investigated for a drug smuggling operation.”

“So he just decided to cut himself into the other half the business?” Bastard .

Leet nodded. “It doesn't matter now. He doesn’t matter. He’s dead.”

“Good,” I muttered, angry. “And the others?”

“Mickey took care of everything,” she assured me.

I chuckled. “Spoken like a true Jordan,” I teased her. She swatted my arm, her lips curving into a grin.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “No offence, but this is all way too much drama for me. I can't wait to go back to my day job—you know, following the law and all that?”

“I am all for that plan,” I agreed.

Leeta hesitated, as if she had something on in mind. “When I was…when Luke was…” She paused. “He said something about Anna. “He said he hoped I’d put up as much of a fight as she had.”

I frowned at her, Luke saying the same thing to me flashing back through my mind.

“Leet, did he hurt you? Did he touch you? Please, speak to me.” I reached up, my fingers running over the faded bruises on her cheek.

“Nothing I couldn't handle.” She smiled briefly. “Honestly? I'm glad you don't remember. I wish I didn't,” she added softly. I reached for her hand, hating that I couldn’t do anything for her.

Thank fuck Luke was dead, because given the chance, I’d kill the fucker over and over again.

“Anyway,” Leeta smiled. “All that matters now is that you get better.”

“One more question,” I said. “Why the fuck did you involve Ben?” I wasn’t angry with her, it was just that my pride was wounded because she had called him over me.

Leet held up her hand. “Before you say anything else, you should probably know that the only reason you and I are standing here now is because of Ben.”

Great, that's all I needed: I owed my life to her ex-fiancé.

I nodded. “Okay,” I said, letting the subject drop. “Go home and get some rest, okay? Please tell me you haven’t been sitting here the last three days, waiting for me to wake up.”

“Of course I have,” she scoffed. “I was worried about you. I wasn't going to leave you.”

She was worried about me. God, I like hearing that . I pulled her towards me, and then winced as pain shot through my chest.

“What are you doing?” she chastised, pushing me back down.

“I was trying to kiss you,” I grumbled

“All you had to do was ask,” she whispered. She leaned towards me, her lips pressing softly against mine.

Leeta

I walked back into the living room for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Are you sure I can't get you anything else?” I asked. I was mothering him, but I couldn’t help it.

“Jesus, Leet, just relax. If I need anything I promise you’ll be the first to know.” He motioned for me to join him on the couch. Walking over, I carefully curled up next to him. He winced, and I looked up at him, alarmed.

“Does it hurt?”

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. “I'm a big boy, Leet. I can handle a little pain.”

“I just don’t like seeing you like this,” I muttered, frowning. He kissed my forehead as his fingers gently stroked my arm.

I'd been so scared of losing him that I was turning into the kind of girlfriend I swore I’d never become. If the past few days had taught me anything, it was the value of life, and how important it was to live while you could.

I was ready to put the last few weeks behind us and move forward.

I leaned up and kissed him, my lips tenderly pressing against. His fingers brushed over my cheek, cradling my neck as our kiss deepened.

“God, I love you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. “I'm so sorry. About everything. I never meant to hurt you. I hate myself for what I've done to you.”

I kissed him again, our lips melting into one.

“I love you, too. What you did, it hurts, but I know your heart was in the right place. I'll get over it, so long as you swear to me there will be no more secrets. I want to move forward with you, not dwell on the past.”

“I don't deserve you,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“You do. You do deserve me, Mace. You need to start believing that.”

#

I arrived home from work to find Mace doing the laundry. I laughed, and hugged him, leading him back over to the couch. His arm was still in a sling, and I could see the pain in his face every time he breathed in.

“Would you just sit down and rest? You’re not going to get better if you keep wearing yourself out,” I said, sitting him down.