Complicated Relationships (The Southern Devotion Series Book 3) by Amy McClung

thanks to my long legs. We had struggled before he pulled a knife on me. I had him cornered, and he fought back slicing open my palm. “Shit!" I cried out. Lunging one more time, I pinned him against the wall and grabbed the purse from him before he slipped out of my grip running back down the alley. Back in the parking lot, Bobby comforted a worried Lanie. She ran towards me once I was close again.
    “You’re bleeding!” She grabbed for my hand, and I yelped in pain. “Sorry,” she gasped letting go again. “Need me to call 911?”
    I shook my head, “No. I’m going to head out for the night though and get this checked out. Here’s your purse.” With my non-injured hand, I returned her wristlet to her.
    “I don’t care about the purse, Tristan.”
    “Well, that sucks then since I put myself in danger to retrieve it.” 
    “That’s not what I mean. You could’ve died! I’m driving you to the hospital. Bobby can you tell his boss?” 
    Bobby nodded, “Sure thing, ma’am.”
    The ride to the hospital flowed with awkward silence. It drove me nuts that she was angry with me. “When Bailey said the other night, that wasn’t literal.” Lanie stared ahead without blinking. “We had a one-night stand weeks ago. It was the first night I met you.”  Her hands clench the wheel tighter. “Damn, that doesn’t sound good. What I meant is, it was before you and I ever even talked about going out.”
    “You have nothing to explain to me, Tristan.” Putting the car into park, she hid her purse under the front seat and helped me out by opening my door. "I have no delusional fantasies of a fairy tale relationship. It's not as though I thought you'd see me and swear off all other women."
    "What if I want to be that guy?"
    Lanie rolled her eyes and gave a loud sigh as she held the entrance door for me. "Cut the cheesy lines, T. Let's stay in reality."  She acted angry and aloof when I knew that she was hurt and putting up her defensive walls. I'd prove to her that I'm not like those other jerks no matter how long it took.
    The lady at the registration desk kindly informed us the wait time was an hour before handing me a clipboard with several sheets of paper and a pen. “You can go home. I’ll call someone to pick me up," I told her.
    Lanie looked appalled at the mere suggestion of leaving. “You risked your life to save my purse; the least I can do is wait to make sure there's no permanent damage to your hand." The paperwork took me a few minutes to fill out. They wanted to know everything about my medical history along with the paperwork for the privacy of health information. I felt like I needed treatment for carpal tunnel once I finished. It was lucky the guy sliced open my right hand and that I'm left handed. Lanie offered to turn the paperwork in for me along with my insurance card, but I felt as though I'd asked too much of her already.
    When I sat back down the silent treatment continued for a moment.  I knew I didn’t owe her an explanation for sleeping with Bailey, but I wanted her to know that I didn’t lie to her or stand her up so I could have sex with someone else.  “I told her I’m interested in someone else. Before I came after you, I introduced her to my friend Marcus.”
    Lanie ignored me still, picking up a fashion magazine as she flipped through the pages. Gently I took it from her. “Give me a chance, Lanie. I’ll prove that I’m not like the others. I promise.” 
    The anger in her expression softened as I hit the nail on the head as to what was wrong. She had been hurt too many times before, so much that she began to lose trust in all men. It’s now my goal to change that for her.
    “You can’t promise me that yet, Tristan. Let’s start over.” She turned away and grabbed the magazine again. After a moment, she looked up in surprise and said, “Oh no, How'd you hurt your hand?” For a brief second, I thought she was schizophrenic until she said, “I’m Lanie, you