COURTNEY'S POV.
The discomfort slowly rocked me to consciousness. The pulsing and throbbing all over my body—then came the pungent smell of antiseptic, crushing against my nostrils like a squeeze of lemon.
My lids fluttered open slowly, but snapped shut against the harsh lights, and it took a few more tries before a white ceiling finally came to focus.
I groaned, feeling the pain levels rise and crash suddenly, getting faster in their rhythm. “How are you feeling?” A warm voice asked me, mixed with the beeping of machines.
My lips were so heavy that I couldn't bring them to move.
“Blink if you mean yes. Do you feel a little pain?”
I blinked, and slowly turned to look at her. She gave directions to a nurse, and asked me a few more questions before giving me a pain reliever.
“Why is my face bandaged?” I asked, placing my hands to feel the roughness of my usually smooth face.
“Do you want the truth, ma'am?” She asked, looking at me sorrowfully, and before she even spoke, my heart fell twenty feet with a jolt, “Your face has been completely damaged. When we take the bandages off, you will be unable to handle it.”
Flashes of the accident hit my mind. The screeching tires as the car tried to come to a halt, the screams, the honks, the smoke, and the loud bang, that sent me rolling on the floor, feeling an immense hit as something sharp and heavy knocked directly into my face. I didn't feel any pain then. I simply blanked out.
“You've been in a coma for weeks. Your body has been healing fine, and it's a miracle that you're alive, but… we couldn't save your face. You'll need surgery.”
Never had I felt so many emotions rising in me at the same time. Boiling rage, the bigger tinge of regret on my tongue, the constant hits as I kept replaying the doctor's words in my ears, and the voice shouting in my head that none of it was real. It was all a lie!
But… when I was given a mirror, everything simply crashed, and I felt nothing. Just nothing.
All I could hear was the sound of my breathing. The doctor's words, the beeping of the machines, the chatter of nurses and patients… it all faded away.
The only thing that snapped me to consciousness was the man suddenly bending in front of me, looking into my eyes.
Apparently, I'd been staring at my horribly bandaged face for hours, unable to believe it was me.
This man was tall, broad-shouldered with piercing gray eyes similar to mine. In short, he looked like he stepped out of a novel.
“I'm David Jones, the man who saved you, and paid your bills.”
I sniffed, cowering as I felt ashamed of my face.
“I can cover my own bills.”
“Really? The hospital said the credit card on you was drained, and the man we called, who was on your emergency contact, said he had nothing to do with you. You have no parents, and…”
“What man?”
“My Forever.” He said.
The name I'd used to save Kent's number. I bit my lip.
Then it occured to me. I had nothing. I'd foolishly given it all to him because he told me he didn't want his woman to work. He wanted me to live like a Queen while he did all the hard work. He was a scammer! A con artist who had approached me for my money! Damn him!
“Careful, you're busting your stitches. Your face is all ruined up.”
He tossed a file to me, and I glanced at him suspiciously before opening it. It was a contract.
One with weird terms— really weird terms.
“Get surgery, a new face, a new life, new assets…” he leaned in, beauty dripping off his face like spring water, “All it takes is your signature on that.”
My signature on this… contract with strange terms?
