The Outlaw's Opposite~~Ashley Purdy

Natasha’s P.O.V.
I catch my breath slowly, my coughs disappearing all together. Ashley still whispers soothing things, his warm fingers caressing my cheek softly. The pain, burning in my gut lowers to a faint feeling as if it was only a minor bruise. Nothing in my mind is clear, I can’t understand why I’m in this hospital bed or why Ashley looks over the moon to see me. A doctor pushes Ashley somewhat roughly away from me and orders him out. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes again as the nurse escorts him away and locks the door.

The doctor checks my temperature, heart rate and even takes a sample of my blood. “You look fine but we’ll have to wait for the blood tests back.” He says, sending the little vial of my blood off with the same nurse who pushed Ashley out of the room. Now there’s only one nurse. She takes a clipboard from my bedside table and pulls a pen from behind her ear. She clicks it, looking up expectantly. “Let’s begin. We’re just going to ask some questions to check your mental health okay?” He tells me, dragging a chair over to my bed. I nod stiffly, trying to block out the horrible scraping sounds of the chair against the floor that remind me of the car crash, one of the only things I remember.

“Great. I’m Dr. Trainor. We’ll start off with the easy questions.” Dr. Trainor says, softly pausing. The nurse sits in another chair, right behind him. She poises her pen, ready to write down my answers. “Full name please?” He asks me, licking his lips. “Natasha…um…Natasha Jewels Smith.” I reply, squinting my eyes in thought. He nods as the nurse quickly scribbles my exact answer.

“Your immediate family?” Is his next question. I let out an annoyed breath and glare a hole in his bald, shiny head. “My father is Patrick Smith. My mother is Eliza Smith. I have a younger brother Troy.” I answer stiffly, praying I didn’t get anything mixed up. My thoughts are muddled and I can’t concentrate.

“Your pets’ names?” Dr. Trainor asks me, peaking at the nurse’s writing and my information sheets. A ghost of a smile plays at my lips. I’ve always loved my cats. Penny was my fiancé’s. “Diva, Penny, Rose and Charlie.” I answer confidently.

“Job?” The nurse questions. Dr. Trainor shoots her a glare for intervening as if she isn’t anything more than his assistant. I scoff. “I wouldn’t call it a job. But I work at the bar downtown.” I say bitterly. “Note that.” Dr. Trainor whispers to the nurse although I hear him clearly. I assume he means my anger towards the question.

“Who is Lindsay to you?” The nurse asks, looking curiously at the flowers that sit on my bedside table. A card is attached, a sweet note inside from Lindsay. Dr. Trainor huffs. “My best friend.” I tell him, quickly scanning over the other cards from various people. I’m surprised I didn’t notice them before.

“What happened?” The doctor questions. I sigh and throw my head back against the pillow, no answer this time. “I was at Ashley’s.” I whisper, tracing the words on my thigh under the sheets on my bed. “I drank. To forget. To forget the crash. And my fiancé Lloyd. My baby. I wanted to forget everything. I took pills.” I mutter, my voice stiff and hateful. I slowly remember everything. The stabbing pain returns, in my heart. That feeling that was there when Lloyd died or when I miscarried and in the months that followed. In those months, I filled my life with alcohol and one night stands to get rid of the stabbing.

“I took a lot of pills. I just laid there. I was having the hallucinations and images of Lloyd and the ultrasounds. And then Ashley came back. I passed out. I was peaceful and now, I’m awake.” I finish my story, staring directly into Dr. Trainor’s eyes. “Do you have a want, a need maybe, for those pills now?” He asks me, tilting his head ever so slightly. “No!” I hiss. The nurse scribbles a note down, along with my answer. “The alcohol?” He continues. “All I want is to go home!” I shout, jutting out my chin and crossing my arms. “Let him in now, Sandra.” He demands quietly to the nurse. She passes the doctor the clip board and opens the door. Ashley rushes in.

“We’d like to keep her in for observation.” Dr. Trainor says as if I’m not there. I glower at him and mutter a curse. “Why? What’s wrong with her?” Ashley yells in panic. “Nothing. She’s just been acting a bit…angry, resentful if you will. We’re going to see if we think she should spend some time in a rehab center or if she can go back home.” The doctor explains, looking quite upset with Ashley’s reaction. Ashley looks over in shock. I stare back, not daring to blink.

The doctor and nurse leave. Only me and Ashley are in the room. “I don’t need rehab.” I whisper, my voice cracking and my strength vanishing. He lets out a strained laugh and nods. He sits on a waiting chair by my bed. I close my eyes, feeling drained and empty. Without opening my eyes, I scoot over to make more room for him, and pat the now empty space. In seconds, I feel his body against mine. My head rests against his shoulder, our arms and legs entangled. He cups my face and looks down to me. “I won’t let them send you to rehab.” He says sternly, rolling us over into a position so he’s almost on top of me. I open my eyes and nod.

Neither one of us moves. In fact, I don’t think either of us breathes. His face inches closer to mine, our body heat warming each other. He looks into my eyes deeply. As if he’s asking permission. I nod weakly, my stomach flopping. I push myself to him and close the gap, resting on my elbows. Our lips touch, so softly I don’t even know whether or not we’re truly kissing.

He pushes harder against me, his hands still on my cheeks. They slide down me to my waist, his lips still gentle. I kiss back, slightly more aggressive and passionate. I tangle my hands in his hair. His tongue flicks across my bottom lip. I freeze, not sure what to do. “It’s okay.” He whispers, pulling away, looking rejected. “I just needed to know, if you felt the same.” He says, a fake smile on his lips.

He’s crawling off me when I grab his shoulders and drag him back to me. Our lips meet, my heart thumping. When he tugs on my bottom lip this time, I part my mouth happily, still gripping his shoulders, feeling that if I let go, he’ll slip right through my fingers like Lloyd. I growl at myself mentally; I cannot be thinking about Lloyd while making out with someone else!

Ashley trails sweet little kisses across my jawline, my neck and collar bone. One hand rests against my hip, the other on the small of my back. I moan as he kisses my ear. We press our lips against each other’s again, the same gentle yet rough type of kiss. Filled with passion and lust.

I arch my back, starting to unbutton Ashley’s shirt. He catches my hand and pushes me slowly down, against the bed. “We can’t. You’re in the hospital.” He chuckles. I pout, wanting him to kiss me, to let me undress him. He laughs again and gets off me carefully, not wanting to hurt me. I scowl. The nurse bustles in, stopping in her tracks when she sees Ashley’s tangled hair, the light sweat breaking out on my forehead. She sighs disapprovingly and reattaches my IV that I must have pulled out.

I blush, remembering not to do anything bad that could get me sent to the rehab center. I reach out for Ashley and pat down his hair, fixing the out-of-place pieces. I smile, loving the feeling of us. Our bodies against each other, our lips kissing. I sigh, the empty feeling filled by Ashley. But as we part, him going off to the cafeteria for coffee, me laying back in bed as it’s still very early in the morning, the empty, sadness and stabbing in my heart return in an instant. I sigh, cuddling into the bed with a pillow in my arms. My sleep is terrorized by nightmares of rehab, Lloyd and even Ashley.

Notes

Sorry it took so long to update! School is back this week :( Homework--yuck! I hope you like it! Like I said in my other story, I'm not into writing smut or really graphic scenes so if that's something you like in a story, I'm sorry. Hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!
Feedback please?? ;)