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16
Mercy
The doctor flasheda beam of light over my eyes. “Look to one side and then the other,” he said.
Irritation rippled through me. “For the umpteenth time, I don’t have a concussion. The only place I’m really hurt is myleg, not my head.”
The doctor looked at me disapprovingly, but to my relief, he finally stepped back. The room, like the rest of the hospital, smelled like disinfectant and bleach. But the stench of smoke that still lingered in my nose overpowered everything else unless I took a particularly deep breath.
“You and your friend came in here pretty battered up,” the doctor said warily. “What happened exactly?”
I straightened my spine. They had been trying to crack me and get me to admit to some kind of criminal activity since I’d driven up to the emergency room doors, yelling for help. While they’d rolled Rowan toward surgery, I’d been detained so they could stitch up my leg, check my lungs, and up my fluid intake. Apparently the bullet had slashed across my leg but not sunk right in, but they could still tell it was a bullet wound—and Rowan’s had obviously come from gunfire too. Those kind of injuries led to a lot of questions, which was exactly why the Nobles turned to Frank for this kind of treatment when they could.
“I’m sorry, but like I said before, it was official business, and I can’t disclose anything,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. Maybe he’d buy that I might be involved in some kind of work on the right side of the law.
From his expression, that was a no. “Right,” he said, eyeing me skeptically. He looked like he was getting ready to pick up the phone and call the cops.
There was a knock at the door. Both of us looked up at the same time to see Wylder there.
Relief rushed through me. If he’d made it this far, that meant that he’d dealt with all the hospital formalities. Before now, all he’d managed to do was pass on a T-shirt and sweatpants for me to change into since Anthea’s dress was no longer wearable.
Wylder’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “Can I take her?”
The doctor frowned. “She should avoid straining her leg during the initial healing period, and she may have taken some damage to her lungs from smoke inhalation. I personally think she should stay at the hospital for tonight while we run more tests.”
“I’m fine,” I said. To make a point, I slid off the bed and stood up. Immediately, a shock of pain jolted from the wound on my thigh up through my chest and down to my foot. I grimaced but quickly covered it with a forced smile.
The doctor wasn’t convinced by that performance either. “See, miss—”
“She’s fine,” Wylder said. It was a statement. Period. “We’ll make sure she’s well taken care of.”
The doctor swallowed hard. When Wylder loomed on him, he took a step back. Either he knew the Noble heir by reputation, or he could tell he was dealing with someone he shouldn’t mess with. “Yes, in that case, take her home.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I said.
Wylder gave me his hand, and I limped out of the room next to him.
As soon as we’d left the doctor behind, he turned to me, peering into my eyes with a storm raging in his. “You sure you’re okay, right? Those bastards…”
I squeezed his hand. “I’m fine. Sore, but nothing that won’t heal. I want to see Rowan if we can. Do you have any idea howhe’sdoing?” He’d been alive when we’d made it to the hospital, but I didn’t know by how thin a thread. What if he didn’t make it? A lump rose in my throat.
“They’re not letting us see him yet,” Wylder said with a hard edge to his voice. “We’ll wait them out until we can convince them otherwise.”
He led me on down the hall toward the seating area where I could see Gideon and Kaige poised opposite each other on the rows of metal chairs, which were bolted to the ground as if the hospital was afraid someone might try to steal them otherwise.
“Did the doctors even say anything?” I asked Wylder. “How did the surgery go?”
Gideon looked up at the sound of my voice. His face was so serious that my heart sank. He got up and gave me a quick, tight hug that was so unlike his typical undemonstrative self that I got even more worried. “It doesn’t sound great,” he admitted in a low voice.
Kaige had stood up and hastily helped me into a chair with Wylder at my other side. He kept his arm around my shoulders. “They don’t want to tell us much of anything,” he grumbled. “We had enough trouble even getting them to admit thatyouhadn’t taken any life-threatening wounds. I was starting to think I’d have to knock some skulls together.”
I gave him a baleful look. “I appreciate your dedication, but let’s not take that approach here. We need them putting their heads toward fixing Rowan.”
“Fine,” he growled. “Then I’ll just settle for pummeling every single one of the assholes who did this to the two of you. There’s going to be nothing left but a bloody pulp.”
Wylder didn’t say a word, but I’d never seen him so deathly quiet, not even when he’d found his brother’s corpse. Cold fury seemed to engulf him as he stared down stubbornly at the floor.
Before I could say anything to him, a doctor approached us. “You’re here for Rowan Finlay?” he said to the guys.
