Page 51 of Doubting Hearts

I saw a flash of pain cross Toby’s face as I glanced at him sharply.

Webber saw it and raised one eyebrow, grinning nastily. “Your ‘boyfriend’ here seems well-informed on some of the details of your rather nefarious past but not all of your sordid antics. Pillow talk, was it? I’d have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that one.” His expression of disgust said otherwise. “Neil wants to lay a charge of GBH against you. He says you came on to him, and when he said no, you got mad, he fought back and had no other choice than to use the bottle to stop you beating on him.”

“That wasn’t what happened.” Toby’s face was stark, his eyes flinty.

“No? Any witnesses to say otherwise?” Webber’s voice was satisfied. He’d known that there had been no one in the area when Neil had been trying to flatten Toby.

I jumped in. “Christ, look at him.” I waved at Toby. “You’re trying to tell me all that was the result of Neil ‘fighting back’? Any arsehole could see through that in a minute.”

“Well, we’ll have to see, won’t we? I—” Webber turned in annoyance at being interrupted as a loud and excited voice shouted down the corridor of the hospital. Whoever it was wasn’t speaking in English. Toby lay back on the pillows, exhausted, as I went outside to see what was going on. Lucas was there with a tiny Japanese man and a taller Japanese girl. He was standing at the nurses’ station, trying to placate the little man, who was waving his hands frantically and obviously speaking Japanese. I looked over at Lucas, and he winked at me. The other reassuring thing was the presence of another policeman that wasn’t bloody Dave Webber at Lucas’s side, wearing a long-suffering expression on his face.

Webber and Digger left the ward and headed over to the nurses’ station. Lucas left them all there and ambled over to me.

“What the hell is going on?” I said in confusion.

My friend grinned. “Mr. Miyamoto wants to see how Toby is, or as he puts it, according to the translator, who’s the little lady there”—he waved at the small Japanese woman trying to calm down her diminutive charge—“How that nice young man is after he was stabbed for no reason by some cowardly thug in a hood.’”

I felt a frisson of sheer excitement. “He was a witness?”

Lucas nodded, a big smile on his face. “Yep. He and about three others who were standing on a balcony at the time and had a great view of the whole thing. One of them even filmed it all on his mobile phone. Apparently they’re all prepared to give statements and say that Toby was attacked first and that he only hit back in self-defense. I thought I’d bring Mr. Miyamoto down straightaway before he had a heart attack. He’s an excitable little blighter. He was making such a fuss at the police station when I took him down there that Sergeant Parker there decided to come with him to the hospital so he didn’t do too much damage.” His eyes grew stony. “And now maybe we can tell that bastard Dave Webber and his shaven friend to back off before we decide to press charges ourselves.”

I gave a great shout of laughter and grabbed Lucas around the waist, planting a huge kiss on his lips. He looked very taken aback, and I thought I might get decked. I moved away quickly, even as his face flushed crimson.

“You beauty,” I crowed. “Sorry, that kiss was probably a little over the top.”

“You think?” he said drily, but I saw the spark of humor on his face. “Christ, Rain, don’t bloody do that. You’ll get me all excited.” He grinned.

I watched as Dave Webber and Sergeant Parker, Mr. Miyamoto and the lady translator all disappeared into a small waiting room off the nurses’ station.

“I need to tell Toby about this.” I turned to go back into the room.

Lucas nodded. “I’ll wait here, make sure everything goes okay.” His voice was threatening, and I pitied any poor bastard getting in his way. Toby was still sitting up, looking down at the blanket with a defeated expression. I walked over and grabbed his face, giving him a deep kiss. He responded, but he wasn’t his usual passionate self. I supposed that was to be expected. He’d been stabbed, been told he faced a possible police charge, and had his past flung up in the air for anyone to take a shot at.

“I heard you both,” he said quietly. “That’s good news that there were witnesses. Perhaps it might straighten everything out.” His good hand plucked at the bedcover. He seemed nervous, and I thought I knew why.

I sat down on the bed beside him and wrapped my arms around him, careful not to hurt him. “Toby, whatever you did in your past is just that. In the past. You don’t have to explain anything. Not to me.” Even though I was a curious as hell, I wasn’t going to push him now. He looked at me, and the desolation in his eyes broke my heart. I kissed each of his eyes in turn, soft butterfly kisses, and he sighed. We sat for a moment in silence. Then he spoke.

“I want to go home now, Rain, back to your place.”

“Toby, the doctor needs to discharge you. He needs to make sure you’re fit to go home.”

“But I can discharge myself, can’t I?” He sounded like a petulant kid.

I huffed in resignation. “I suppose so. If that’s what you really want.” I got up. “Do you want me to speak to the nurse, ask them to do whatever they need to release you?”

He nodded. Three hours later, we were home. Both of us heaved a sigh of relief.

“I’m going for a shower,” Toby announced.

I sighed again. “Is that wise? You’re supposed to keep the bandages from getting too wet.”

He pressed his lips together mutinously. “I’m showering.” He glowered as he went into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. I leaned over and plumped up the bed pillows and drew the covers back. Sheba jumped onto the bed, her tail wagging softly. I looked at her. There wasn’t any point in asking him if I could help when he was in independent mode.

“He’s a right brat, isn’t he, girl?” Sheba seemed to nod in agreement. I pottered about, waiting for Toby to come out the bathroom. When he did appear, all squeaky clean, his wet hair plastered to his head like the skin of a silky seal, my groin tingled. I loved the sight of this man in just a towel. He saw the direction of my glance and grinned slightly.

I raised my eyebrows. “That plaster looks soaking. Are you sure the stitches are all right?”

He huffed impatiently. “Jeez, Rain, you can be such a nag. The stitches are bloody fine.” He was going to be an impossible patient, I could tell. An overdose of sedatives in his Coke was starting to look very tempting. I tried not to stare at the state of his body, with its livid bruise across his back where Neil had punched him and the sodden plaster with blood stained across it. He was in a lot of pain, and all in all, he was a bit of a mess. But he was my mess.