“Oh, I’m sorry, we only had one patient scheduled for this room.” She stammers out a quick excuse as she takes in the situation. Leo groaning on his bed, Jacks curled up around my arm in the other bed. She hurries over and looks down at the hospital bracelet wrapped around Jacks arm.
“Mr. Asher? Oh…Ohhh? Leo Asher is your pack mate, yes?" I nod a quick affirmative.
“Yeah, Leo’s over there, this is Jacks, and I’m his mate, Xander. Jacks doesn’t like to be alone, so he came and found me down by x-ray, and then dragged me up here and made himself at home. Can you help him, please?” I don’t like how my voice cracks at the end, or how her eyes get wider with each word.
Thankfully, she seems more professional than the woman downstairs and immediately gets started trying to help. She asks me what happened, and I try to explain, while she checks Jacks’ vitals. He’s whimpering now, the cut on his forehead breaking open and oozing blood down his jaw. She calls down to the nurse's station and asks for Jacks’ records, and it’s only a couple more minutes before a younger man pops through the door carrying a stack of papers.
“Oh, now, technically this is the burn recovery center, but…” she looks at the paper, “that’s fine since he is also recovering from smoke inhalation. However, we are going to need to get a doctor in here to evaluate his concussion, and get his chest taken care of before he can rest. If he can rest…the doctor will need to look at everything before we make a decision.” She looks back and forth between Jacks and the paperwork. He has a death grip on my hand, his eyes screwed down tight.
“We’re going to get you taken care of young man,” she says sincerely and then pats him on the ankle and smiles at me before leaving the room.
Hooking a chair with my foot, I drag it over so I can collapse next to Jacks. I need to check in with Gabe, but just need to rest my eyes first. Leaning my head against Jacks’ bed I don’t remember anything until the severe nurse shakes me awake.
Jacks
Fuck me, everything hurts. When I get ahold of that little shit-monkey I’m going to peel him like a fucking banana.
Everything smells antiseptic, and they must have insane filters in this place. Warmth envelops one side of my body and I look over catching a hint of Xan’s bourbon and rain scent,cozy. He is asleep wrapped around my side that isn’t bandaged, his fingers are intertwined with mine and his face rubs into my shoulder. I catch sight of a big lump over his shoulder, and it’s Leo, hooked up to lots of machines, and heavily bandaged.
Poor bastard, I remember seeing him laying out in my Little Lion’s yard after I woke up. They didn’t want me to be in here, but I couldn’t leave him in a room all alone. What if he has a nightmare with none of his pack around, and there would be noone to sneak him snacks. Nope, he is stuck with me, and Xan, by proxy.
I push the nurse call button and an angry looking woman in a tight bun is at our door a moment later. “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to be up so soon, I thought he was the one buzzing.” She looks down at Xan, and part of me wants to pull the blanket over him so she can’t see him, but Janey would’ve kicked my ass so hard for being rude, so I remember my manners.
“No ma’am. I’m sorry to call you in, I was just wondering how long it’s been since we arrived, and when we can leave." Her eyes widen with shock…shit, did I do something awkward that I can’t remember?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Asher, but you have five broken ribs, and you had to have a procedure to re-inflate your lung…Mr. Leo Asher over there is suffering from singed lungs and burns. I’m sorry to say it, but it will be at least a few more days, if not a week, before we can discharge you. And that depends a lot on how long it takes you to heal. So, please, lay back down and get more rest.” I look at her, dumbstruck.
“You’ve been unconscious for about 36 hours Mr. Asher."
Shit…Fuck…Shit-Fuck!
It’s ok, I can work with this.
“Thank you ma’am, I sure do appreciate your help. Can you please be a darlin’ and tell me how to get an outside line on here, I just wanna call up our pack leader and check up on our omega."
I point at the phone smiling my most disarming smile. And yes, I am laying it on super thick, but I can’t do Xan’s effortless relaxed charm. So, let’s try fake southern gentleman charm instead, and hope it doesn’t get me in any more trouble. I clearly have no idea what I’m doing, but it works in movies.
Chapter 37
Shortly after Seth left, a woman came in, started a shower, cut my ties, and offered to help me strip.
No, I’m good, thanks.
I asked for privacy, and while her pinched brows said she wasn’t any happier about this than I am, she refused. However, she did stand outside the shower door looking towards the bedroom the entire time, so at least I was able to get clean. I washed my hair a few times; it took a while to get all the blood out, and there is a really tender spot on the back of my head. Not going to lie though, the conditioner in there is amazing, and my hair is now super soft.
I scrub hard in the hot water, feeling like my skin is going to melt off, but I have to get the sensation of Seth’s touch off my body. By the time I’m done I look like a big red lobster.The woman hands me a huge fluffy towel, and I just want to bury my face in it…I didn’t know something that soft could be absorbent, but it feels so good against my abused skin.
She leads me back to the bedroom and hands me a stack of fresh clothes to put on. My old ones are gone, which is no great loss on my destroyed shirt, but I want my underwear and bra back. The ones she has are about two sizes too small, but hey, stretch pants are known for stretching. Still the t-shirt looks almost obscene stretched over all my jiggly bits.
Seriously if this douche canoe is that rich, you’d think he could afford prisoner clothes that fit.
I hate tight clothes, partially because I’m heavy. They’re pinchy, and expensive clothes that are tight are no exception. She leads me down the hallway to another room, there’s a midsized table laid out with food, a steak, baked potato, and wine on one side, chicken breast and rice with a side of broccoli and a glass of water on the other, also a salad, but I don’t eat salad because I am not a fucking rabbit. I mean, I usually eat the croutons and sliced carrots out of it, but I have a feeling Seth would get pissed if I try that here.
Not surprisingly, he’s standing behind the chair with the steak, and his eyes bug out when he sees the spectacle that is my outfit. If he doesn’t like it, it’s his own fault for getting rid of my stuff and not having the right size. I feel like a sausage stuffed into a too tight casing. His eyes roam over me and he swallows a few times before he opens his mouth.
“You look lovely, my dear."
Oh, fuck…it’s not disgust. He likes the jiggly bits.
