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I ran my thumb over the edge of her hand and tried to focus on her eyes.
“He’s still doped up,” Yolanda said. “That could work in your favor if one of them shows up.”
“Hush!” Tria hissed. “Liam? Can you talk to me?”
“Who…?” I breathed but couldn’t make much more of a sound. Yolanda was suddenly in my view, sticking a little paper straw in my mouth and ordering me to drink. The water helped, and I managed to get out the entire question. “Who’s showing up?”
The two of them glanced at each other, but neither seemed inclined to speak. That’s when a guy in a white coat walked in, smiled at both of the girls, and then took my wrist from Tria and counted heartbeats or something.
“Who the fuck are you?” I mumbled. It hurt my throat to talk so much, but Yolanda was right there with the water again.
“I the fuck am Doctor Baynor,” he replied without hesitation. “You the fuck are my patient. Now hang on a second while I take your vitals and check out my sewing.”
“Sewing?”
“You were stabbed, hotshot,” Yolanda said, reminding me. “It’s gonna scar.”
“Ah, fuck!” I tried to turn to see it, but the pain that ran up my side when I moved just about knocked me out again. I groaned. “How bad a scar?”
“You might want to be still,” Dr. Baynor stated. “I’ll get you set up with a morphine drip to help you sleep.”
“No morphine,” Yolanda said. “Ex-junkie.”
“Ah, well—something a little more tame then, hmm?”
“Fuck you,” I growled at Yolanda.
Tria giggled a little.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Nothing at all,” she replied as she took my hand back from the doctor. “It’s just good to hear the f-bombs flowing. It tells me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I said as I forced myself to swallow a couple of times. I reached up to scratch my nose and found one of those oxygen things taped to me. No wonder I was itching. The IV drip and some little needle thing were also shoved in my arm and hand. “Just get me checked out so we can go home.”
“Not just yet,” Dr. Baynor said. “Major surgery is not outpatient. I’m going to want to keep an eye on you for a day or so.”
“Nah, that’s all right,” I replied. “Just give me a list of dos and don’ts, and I’ll be fine.”
“I repaired a hole in your stomach a few hours ago,” the doctor said. “You’re staying until I say you can go.”
“Look, Doc,” I said as I tried to get myself a little more upright. Both Yolanda and Tria placed hands on my shoulders to keep me from going anywhere. “Two things: One, I’m a shitty patient you don’t want in your hospital. Two, you guys like to get paid. I don’t have insurance or money, so let’s not kid ourselves.”
The doctor glanced from me to Tria.
“All the costs are covered,” he said. “You are Liam Teague, correct? Or did I sew up the wrong guy?”
A shiver went down my body. I looked up at Tria, and I didn’t like the expression on her face at all.
“I had to call them,” she said quietly.
I pulled my hand away from her.
“Either way,” Dr. Baynor continued as I glared at my girlfriend, “this wasn’t exactly elective surgery. With or without the means to pay up, you’d be staying.”
I ignored him and looked pointedly at Tria.
“They wouldn’t let me in the room,” Tria explained. “They said roommates and girlfriends didn’t count, and the only people allowed in were family. I had to call someone.”
