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“Technically two and a half,” he counters.
“Whatever, Doc, feels like it’s a hell of a lot longer,” I grind out. “What’s the point in lounging around here for five thousand dollars a day? I can lie in bed at home for free.”
Raising his bushy eyebrows, the short doctor snaps off his latex gloves and tosses them in the trash. Then he lets out a long sigh.
“Why do I have a feeling that if I don’t discharge you, you’ll leave anyway?”
“Because I will,” I throw back.
“All right, you devil. Let me get some prescriptions ready and we’ll—”
“Fuck your pain pills.”
He gives me a shocked look.
I’m not about to go down any road that could lead to new addictions.
“Sorry,” I say, clearing my throat. “What I mean is, I want to work through it naturally.”
“Regardless, you’ll be on a few drugs for infection control and anti-inflammatories. How do you feel about a cane?” he asks. “Please understand you shouldn’t put more pressure on that leg than necessary.”
I swallow an acrid sigh. What the hell ever.
He’s been a good guy and he’s willing to let me go.
“How about a gold knob on the top? Always wanted to play rich asshole when I was a kid,” I say teasingly.
He laughs. “No gold, I’m afraid, but there are rubber precision grips on the bottom.”
I snort in return. “Okay. I’ll comprise.”
“Do you have a phone?” he asks, glancing at the rolling table next to my bed.
Do I?
Mine was in the truck when I went charging in. From what Drake said, my truck took a nasty hit to the right front corner when I rammed the scumbags in the SUV. I’m just glad Hercules was fine when they picked him up—but with a name like that, he had to be.
“Think I lost it during the incident that got me shot,” I say.
He nods and walks to the door.
“I’ll send in your uncle shortly so you can make arrangements, and I’ll have your discharge papers ready within the hour.”
“Thanks,” I say, but then wonder if I want Uncle Grady bringing me home.
If I get my phone back and call Thelma’s place, Shel might come and get me.
Then again...though I want to see her terribly, I don’t want her getting an eyeful of me limping around on a cane with rubber grips like some frail old man.
My heart thuds harder as I think about seeing her.
Hell, maybe I should let her see me with the cane. I bet I could convince her to play nurse for a bit while we kiss and make up for everything that went down before the shitshow.
* * *
It feels like eons pass before Uncle Grady steps into the room with a phone in his hand and plugs it into the wall.
“Thanks,” I tell him, still considering whether or not the rest of me can handle what my dick craves if I actually get a lift home from Little Miss Simon.
