Zander Read online

  The doctor’s forehead furrowed while he nodded. “That must have been quite a shock. I’m Dr. Calhoun, by the way. I’ll be her hospitalist while she’s here.”

  Feeling slightly foolish that the medical staff was speaking to him as though he were family, he simply nodded.

  “As you can see, she has multiple lacerations, although the only one requiring stitches is the one on her head. Unfortunately, that injury to her head is the one that causes us the most concern. The broken bones and bruises will heal, but we don’t know the extent of her any brain injury, at this time.”

  “Brain injury?” he repeated, numbly. “Broken bones?”

  “Her nose is broken, as well as a couple of ribs. Given the contusions, which appear to have come from blunt trauma, she is lucky to not have more broken bones. We have done CT scans and there is some brain swelling. She’s still in a coma, but breathing on her own, which is a good sign.”

  “When will she wake up?”

  “There’s no way of knowing. But, you should be prepared for her to have a long convalescence. I’m assuming you’ll be visiting daily…or as often as you can?”

  Blinking, Zander almost blurted that he was only here today to just check on her. But turning his gaze back down, seeing her lying perfectly still, he heard himself answer, “I’ll be back every day.”

  An hour later Chloe returned, finding him still in the chair, his hand resting on the woman’s. “Hey,” she said softly. “When you come back tomorrow why don’t you bring something to read to her. It will pass the time for you and she can hear you. It doesn’t matter what you read…it can be a magazine...or…uh…whatever. But it’ll be good for her to hear your voice.”

  As she walked back out, he looked down at his worn jeans, dark t-shirt, and the tats covering his arms. She probably wonders if I can read. Smiling, as though sharing a secret, he looked at the mystery woman, and said, “I’ll be back tomorrow, princess. And we can read a story together. Okay?”

  No response was given. None was expected.

  7

  Sitting at one of the large tables in the back room at Grimm’s, the eerie silence of the empty space made the room feel larger. Zander faced his employees, all of whom had been questioned by the police that morning. While descriptions of the man who had been ejected were plentiful, no one knew who he was, had seen him before, saw him with anyone else, or could positively identify him as the assailant in the security video. And, as Pete reminded them, it might not have been that man who attacked her.

  Pete and his partner left the group stunned, worried expressions on their faces as they stared at Zander.

  “Boss, this ain’t your fault,” Roscoe began. “You did nothing wrong here.”

  Everyone quickly added their agreement, but Zander just threw up his hand for them to quiet. “My head gets it,” he said, “but I still feel guilty. She was doing nothing wrong other than looking too innocent to be in a bar getting manhandled by some asshole. If I had just let her drink her drink and chat for a bit, she wouldn’t be where she is now.”

  A somber mood hung over the Grimm employees, each silent, not knowing what to say or how to make the situation better.

  Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, squeezing the tense muscles, Zander continued. “I’ve called a friend to install security cameras inside the bar and I’ve already talked to Roscoe and Zeke. Our new policy is that if we call a cab, we get the cab’s number and escort the person to the cab, no matter what.”

  “That’s good, Zander,” Lynn began. “You’re taking something bad and making some changes that might help someone else in the future.”

  “Yeah…” he sighed, twisting his head back and forth to crack the kinks out of his neck. “Listen, I’m going to spend some time at the hospital with her—”

  “Zander, you shouldn’t feel obligated—” Charlene protested.

  “No, it’s not that,” he defended. “But she’s got no one and I…well, I’d like to keep her company. But I’ll need some more help here.”

  Lynn smiled, saying, “My mother-in-law has been itching to spend more time with the kids, so I can easily come in a couple of hours early to help with whatever you need.”

  Joe grimaced, adding, “My part-time roofing job won’t let me come in earlier during the week, but on weekends, I can.”

  Zeke leaned forward, his hands nervously rubbing on his thighs. “Boss, I’d been wanting to talk to you about something, and I know the timing might not be good, nor doing it so publically, but I’ve wanted to take on more responsibilities around here. I know the pay won’t go up,” he rushed, “but I’d like to learn some of the managerial jobs that you do.”

  Nodding, he approved, “Sounds good. I’ve got no problem with you learning more about the business and now’s as good a time as any.” Looking at his watch, he stood. “I’m heading over there now and you all can go home. We’re closed today anyway, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He watched as his employees headed out the door, their assistance welcome, but his heart was still heavy.

  Stepping off the elevator, with less trepidation than the day before, Zander walked down the hall, nodding at a smiling Chloe as he walked toward the room. Walking inside, he immediately moved to the sink, carefully washing his hands, making sure to scrub with the astringent soap. Once dry, he picked up his book and turned around. Sighing, he saw little difference in her condition. The woman lying in the bed was just as bruised, just as still, hooked up to just as many wires and tubes. His gut clenched. He thought he was prepared, after all, he had seen her only yesterday.

  Catching his breath, he let it out slowly, willing his nerves to hold. I saw men in the war coming in with injuries worse than this. Missing limbs. Burns. Deadly injuries. But, none of it had hit him like this. Maybe it was because she was so tiny. So innocent. All she had done was go out for a drink and now she was in a coma. God knows for how long.

  “You can sit with her,” Chloe said, startling him as she walked into the room. “I see you brought a book.”

  Clutching the large print book in his hand, he nodded in jerks. “Yeah. Uh…it’s an old book I used to have as a kid. Someone special gave it to me years ago and I used to read it to my…uh…brothers.”

  “Well, I’m sure whatever you read will be fine. Remember what I said, research shows that she may be able to hear you even while comatose and it will bring her comfort.”

  His gaze slid to the whiteboard on the wall, seeing her name listed as Jane Doe. His heart hurt as he viewed the evidence that no one knew who she was.

  Waiting until they were alone, he scooted the plastic chair across the tile floor to rest next to her bed. But, before he sat down, he reached over and placed his hand on her palm. His gaze moved over her swollen face, noting the reddened area where the dark stitches had pierced her skin. The bruises around her eyes had darkened even more, black and angry. The hospital gown was open at the neck, exposing the upper part of her chest and shoulders, those bruises deepening as well.

  Bending low, he stared at her dry, cracked lips. Seeing a tube of lip balm on the tray, he squirted some on his forefinger, hesitating to touch her injuries before rubbing it lightly on her mouth. The flesh was pliant, warm, and his breath hitched as he realized how vulnerable she was.

  Blowing out a breath, he whispered, “Hey, princess. It’s Zander…uh…I’m Zander. I’m so sorry…so sorry. But, I want you…well, need you to get well.”

  He stared, hoping she might twitch, or blink, or indicate she could hear him. But she continued to sleep.

  Sitting down in the chair, he said, “I brought a book to read. I don’t know what you like to read, but this book was given to me years ago.” His fingers moved along the worn cover, remembering when Miss Ethel gave it to him.

  * * *

  “Alexander, don’t you let no one tell you you’re too dumb to learn. You’ve got more intelligence than most and I know it’s locked inside of you. Your teachers are going to go over th
e basics of reading, but that won’t teach you to love the written word. You and me, son, are going to read through this book. It’s got everything in it…classics…fairy tales…stories of bravery and strength. Stories of love. Stories of life.”

  Then she opened the book, flipping through the pages until she pressed her hand flat on a page, and I sat at her feet, listening as she opened my world.

  * * *

  “What do you say, princess? Ready to have me read to you?” Opening the book, he realized he had no idea where to begin. His brow creased as he tried to think of what she might like to hear. Rubbing his hand over his chin, he flipped to one of his favorites. “How about we start easy? Nothing too hard for you to concentrate on, right now.” Glancing behind him to see if anyone was listening, he turned back to her, giving her all his attention.

  Keeping one hand on hers and the other turned to Grimm’s version of Sleeping Beauty, he began.

  “ ‘In times past, there lived a King and Queen, who said to each other every day of their lives, “Would that we had a child!” and yet they had none. But it happened once that when the Queen was bathing, there came a frog out of the water, and he squatted on the ground, and said to her, “Thy wish shall be fulfilled; before a year has gone by, thou shalt bring a daughter into the world.” And as the frog foretold, so it happened; and the Queen bore a daughter so beautiful that the King could not contain himself for joy, and he ordained a great feast.’ ”

  As he continued to read, he glanced up occasionally, giving her hand a little squeeze. His voice, soft at first, grew stronger as he hoped she would be able to hear him. Not wanting to go too fast, he enunciated each word carefully. After a few minutes, he came to the description of the princess.

  “ ‘The maiden grew up, adorned with all the gifts of the wise women; and she was so lovely, modest, sweet, and kind and clever, that no one who saw her could help loving her.’ ”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, his gaze jerked up to hers. The truth was he had very little to go on as to her personality, but remembering her at the bar, he thought about the way she tried to be polite, first to the asshole bothering her and then to him…even when he was being a different kind of an asshole. He remembered the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, her head ducking slightly, having no idea how beautiful she was. Her voice had been soft, even when angry.

  “This sounds a lot like you, princess.” Giving her hand another squeeze, he continued the story. After another few minutes, he came to the line,

  “ ‘…the beautiful sleeping Rosamond, for so was the Princess called…’ ”

  Sucking in a quick breath, his gaze shot back to her. “Rosamond. I know that’s not your name, but I hate like hell for you to keep being called a Jane Doe. So, if you don’t mind, can I call you Rosamond?” Shaking his head, he knew it was foolish to expect a sign from her. Looking down at her hand, he rubbed his calloused finger over her skin. Her arm was covered in abrasions from the gravel drive behind the bar. Grimacing, he forced the thoughts of her attack from his mind, focusing instead on the story.

  As he came to the climax, he read,

  “ ‘And when he saw her looking so lovely in her sleep, he could not turn away his eyes; and presently he stooped and kissed her, and she awaked, and opened her eyes, and looked very kindly on him.’ ”

  “Is that what you’ll do with me, Rosamond? Look upon me kindly?”

  A sound at the door interrupted his reading and, twisting his head around, he saw Pete walking into the room.

  “Zander? Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Shrugging, he said, “Figure she’s got no one. At least, not for now.” Lifting his gaze up to Pete’s face as he came nearer, he asked, “Anyone report her missing? Anyone looking for her?”

  “No, and that’s what’s so damn frustrating. Her prints didn’t come up in our system, but that’s not unusual. What is unusual is for a woman that looks like her and dresses like her hasn’t been reported by someone.”

  “What do you mean? Looks like her?”

  “I just mean that there are times when we run into a Jane Doe in a sleazebag hotel, having shot up on whatever drug of choice they could get hold of. You don’t exactly expect her to have people out there that will notice she’s gone right away. But her,” he nodded in Rosamund’s direction, “she was well groomed, no drugs in her system…someone like her shouldn’t remain a Jane Doe for long.”

  Sleazebag hotel…shooting up drug of choice…forgetting there was a child at home. Blinking, Zander forced his mind to move off his mother and back to what Pete was saying. “So, how do you usually identify someone like this?”

  “Can’t say I’ve had a case like this where someone did not come forward quickly. Family, neighbor, employer, friend. Someone. But, maybe if she was new to the area…it could take a little time for someone to miss her. We can hope.”

  Pete turned to leave the room but stopped at the door, looking back over his shoulder. “You gonna keep coming?”

  Nodding, Zander said, “I hate the idea of her being alone.”

  Patting the doorframe, Pete grinned as he waved goodbye. Looking back over at Rosamond, he sighed at the thought of no one missing her, looking for her, wondering when she was coming home.

  Squeezing her hand once more, he continued reading until coming to, “ ‘The End.’ ”

  Floating…I must be floating…but why is it so dark? I hear words easing through the fog. The sound is deep…melodious…calming. Words moving through the air…chords of music…weaving around me. Lulling me back to sleep. Princess…prince…Rosamond…I want to look kindly on the one whose voice is so rich.

  8

  Standing at his kitchen counter, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Zander sipped his coffee, willing the caffeine to kick in quickly. Startling at a knock on the door, he cursed as some of the hot brew splashed over his fingers.

  Who the hell is here at this hour? Everyone knows I’m usually asleep.

  Stalking over, he threw open the door and was pushed aside as Asher, Jayden, Jaxon, and Cael moved inside, all heading to the coffee maker.

  “Well, come on in,” he clipped, throwing the door shut behind them.

  “Good morning to you, Sunshine,” Jaxon grinned, taking the cup handed to him from Asher. “You’re up early.”

  With his fists planted on his hips, he stared at the group, now lounging around the kitchen counter. “What’s up with the early morning welcome wagon?” He observed the eye shifts between them and let out a heavy sigh. “Looks like this is going to be something I don’t like much. Might as well get comfortable.”

  He picked up his cup and moved to the chair in the living room, watching as the others filed in behind him, the twins and Cael plopping down on the sofa and Asher taking the other chair.

  “Hell, this looks like some kind of intervention. I swear I’m not on drugs, I’m not a hoarder, and I only drink occasionally. Anything else I can tell you?” he quipped, sarcasm dripping from his words.

  “You want to cut to the chase, then here it is,” Cael began. “You’re visiting that woman at the hospital.”

  The widening of his eyes was his only blatant physical response, but his heart rate kicked up as he prepared for battle. “Seriously? That’s what brought you out here in force at this ungodly hour—”

  “You’re up at this ungodly hour,” Jayden interrupted.

  “So what? A man can’t get up early if he wants to?”

  “Come on, Zander,” Asher said, leaning forward, his eyes pinning him. “Tell us what’s going on.”

  Lips pinched, he sucked in a deep breath before sighing once more. “Look guys, she’s a customer who came in to have a good time and I fucked that up. I may not be the one who attacked her, but I sure as hell was the one who set it up so she could be attacked.”

  “So, you’re doing this out of guilt?” Asher prodded.

  “No…well, some. I mean, I do feel guilty but…I don’t know. That’s not all it
is.”

  “Then explain it to us.”

  Leaning forward, cup in hand, he stared into the depths of his coffee, his mind casting back to her hospital room. Bruised. Battered. Broken. His voice quiet, belying the emotions coursing through his veins, he began, “She’s all alone. The police have no clues as to who she is. She’s got no visitors…no one to even know she’s been hurt.” He moved his gaze to each of them, his jaw tight. “Come on…every one of us knows what it’s like to be alone.”

  “You don’t want her to wake up alone, do you?” Jaxon asked, his voice filled with concern.

  Shaking his head, he answered, “No. No, I don’t.”

  The group remained silent for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, he added, “She’s still unconscious and the staff, while caring, can’t sit with her. I just hate the idea that she’s alone.”

  Cael asked, “So, you just go and sit?”

  Shaking his head, he replied, “Nah. I read to her.” Seeing their eyebrows lift in unison, he explained, “The nurse said that patients in comas can often hear,” he lifted his great shoulders in a slight shrug, “so I read to her. I hold her hand, thinking maybe she can feel something and I talk to her and read.”

  Asher’s eyes cut to the table next to the front door, a slow smile beginning to form as he spied the book. “The edited classics. You’re reading those to her, aren’t you?”

  A slow nod began his reply. “Yeah…it gives me lots of stories to choose from.”

  “I remember when you used to read to us,” Jaxon said, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “I loved that book.”

  The others smiled as well, fond memories sliding across their faces. Zander, his forearms planted on his knees, said, “Look, I know you’re worried. I’m not exactly Mr. Sociable, so this seems out of character—”

  Jayden interrupted, “Actually it doesn’t seem out of character at all. You were always the protector, Zander. The one who took charge and made sure we had what we needed. This is just an extension of your true self, you just don’t see it.”