Page 97 of Theta

I grin at her, wink. "I may have underreported the severity of the injury. I took one through the meat of my arm and another bounced off the shoulder bone and broke something in there." I wince. "Doesn't feel great, but it's fine."

It's Story's turn to wince and hiss, rolling away from the site of her wound. "It fucking hurts, Killy." She sounds near tears. "I hate being a sissy about it, but it fucking hurts."

"You're hit hard, baby," I tell her. "If you were the nurse and not the patient, what would you say to yourself?"

"It's okay to admit it hurts. Being a hard-ass never healed anyone any faster." She sounds almost petulant.

"So you're not a sissy. You're in serious pain. You’re dealing with serious injuries without painkillers. I know exactly how tough you are."

She looks up at me, her gaze haunted. "I froze, Killy."

"And then you unfroze and you fuckin’ wrecked shit like a boss."

Her eyes go hazy and wet with unshed tears. "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to kill anyone else. I'm a nurse—a healer, not a killer."

"I know, sweetheart."

"My head hurts. Everything hurts."

“Your head?"

She nods woozily, weakly. "I hit it pretty hard when I went down."

"Are you concussed?"

"Yeah. Definitely. Not…not badly, I don’t think. I don’t know for sure. Everything hurts, so it’s hard to dissect all the symptoms. It's fine for me to sleep, I think.”

"You seem lucid enough."

"I just feel…wobbly. Woozy. So tired."

"Rest. I'll take care of you, Story. I've got you."

"Who's gonna take care of you?"

“You, once you're healed."

"Well, speaking as a medical professional, that’s gonna be a while."

"I can be patient."

She sniffs a laugh. "That week alone, naked, on a beach is gonna have to take a raincheck. I'm not gonna be riding anything except a hospital bed for a few weeks at minimum."

I cradle her hand in both of mine and kiss her knuckles. "Sweetheart, all that matters is you getting better."

She writhes, arched and groaning. "Fuck, it hurts!"

"There's gotta be something we can do to take the edge off the pain."

"Does…" She breaks off, whimpering as the wave of pain takes over. "Does Dante…have anything?"

"He is a drug dealer, isn't he?" I say. "Good point."

"That's me, always thinking."

"Be right back."

I limp and shuffle and wince my way topside to find Dante and his uncle arguing. Obviously, I have no idea what they're saying, but judging by the way the uncle is gesturing, he's pissed at Dante for this whole situation.