Read Online Chained by REBECCA YORK - Free Book Online

front desk and
said she was Isabella Flores, an old friend of Matthew Houseman who wanted to
visit him.
    The woman checked her computer, then looked up with a
concerned expression on her face. “You haven’t been here before. You know he’s
in our coma ward?”
    “Yes.”
    “I should prepare you. He probably won’t know you.”
    “I’m a nurse. I know what to expect, but thanks for warning
me,” she managed to say, wondering if she was really prepared.
    “Room 202.”
    “Thank you.”
    She took the elevator to the second floor, walked past the
nursing station and into a room with a bed, monitors, and the kind of equipment
designed to sustain a patient who wasn’t able to function on his own.
    She had looked everywhere except directly at the man in the
bed. Finally, with a mixture of hope and dread, she allowed herself to focus on
him.
    Her breath caught when she saw him. It was Matthew Houseman,
looking like the man she had seen at the ranch. Only now he was lying in a bed
under a light blanket.
    His face was still and pale, his eyes were closed, but his
chest rose and fell without assistance. At least he was breathing on his own.
And he looked like someone had been taking good care of him. He’d been shaved
recently, and his hair was trimmed.
    Her heart was thumping inside her chest as she walked
quietly toward him. “Matthew, it’s Isabella. I’ve come to wake you up,” she
said, her words bold but her voice trembling.
    When he didn’t answer, she laid her hand against his cheek,
stroking her finger against the stubble of his beard the way she had at the
ranch. She wanted to climb onto the bed with him and hug him to her, but she
was afraid to do that. Instead she leaned over him, pressing close, praying she
could connect with him as they had yesterday.
    “Matthew, you were at El Cayado . You were going to
chase me away, until you found out who I was. You protected me there,” she
murmured.
    He’d grown so responsive at the ranch. Here, he said
nothing, and she wondered if he had any idea someone was there talking to him.
    “Matthew, please. Come back to me. I love you,” she said,
the last part coming out as a sob. “And I know you love me. You didn’t say it,
but I know it’s true.”
    She was so focused on Matthew that she didn’t realize they
were no longer alone.
    A harsh voice interrupted her from the doorway. “Who are
you, and what are you doing here?”
    Isabella turned to see a plump nurse in her sixties with a
round face and salt and pepper hair. Her name tag said “Gloria Romano.”
    “I came to see Matthew.”
    “On a sudden impulse? You’ve never been here before.”
    “I didn’t even know Matthew was here until yesterday.”
    Who are you?”
    “Isabella Flores.”
    The nurse gasped.

 
    CHAPTER EIGHT
    “You know my name?”
    The nurse’s gaze flicked from Isabella to Matthew and back
again.
    “He hasn’t spoken in five years. I mean, he hadn’t spoken—until he said your name.”
    “My name?”
    “Yes. Isabella.”
    Isabella reached down and clasped Matthew’s hand, hope
springing up inside her again. Maybe this wasn’t so foolish after all. “You
called to me. Oh, Matthew.”
    If she expected a response, she got none.
    “What happened after that?” she asked. “After he spoke my
name?”
    “Nothing. I mean, he said that you needed help. But that was
all. We called Dr. Berman. He couldn’t find any neurological changes.”
    “And you were the only one who heard Matthew speak?”
    The woman looked defiant. “I didn’t make it up.”
    “I wasn’t saying that.” She studied Gloria Romano, sure that
the woman cared about this patient.
    “What are you to him?” Gloria demanded.
    Isabella had come here with some vague plan of waking
Matthew up. Or maybe she thought he’d open his eyes and leap out of bed as soon
as he saw her. It was clear that wasn’t going to happen, but how much should
she say now?
    Would this woman think she was crazy—like Frank