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"Just know, he might not make much sense.” She gave me a small smile.
I raised an eyebrow in question. “No?”
“Morphine. It gets everyone in a different way.”
"Got it. Thanks." Clint was fucking high. Lucky bastard.
"I'll get the paperwork and bring it in for you to fill out," she said.
I grunted and pushed into the small sterile room decorated with white blinds and an anemic print on the wall in a cheap frame. “Hey, Clint. It's Rush,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. I'd left multiple messages for Amberlee. She still hadn't returned my call. Not even a fucking text.
Clint moaned and rolled his head my direction. "Hey, Ruuush." He licked his lips.
Yeah, he was fucked up. At least he was dry and cleaned up, though he had crusted blood from the road rash on his face.
“How are you feeling?” I couldn't help but grin as he tried to watch me walk around the room.
A deep line formed between his eyes as he worked to focus. “Fine, fine, fine, fine.”
“Anything other than fine?” I picked at a chocolate brownie sitting on a tray of untouched food.
“Bored. Why’s it so boring? They won’t let me walk anywhere.”
I surveyed his leg being held straight in a contraption that looked like it came from a science fiction movie set.
“You know you broke your leg in two places, right, man?”
He glanced down as his leg as a mishmash of emotions filtered across his face. Then he grabbed my arm, staring me straight in the eye with zeal. “It doesn’t hurt. I think they made a mistake,” he said, lowering his voice as he tried to wink. “Cute nurse though. I didn’t want to tell her she fucked up.” He stopped and considered what he’d said, then cracked into a wild giggle. “I'm fucked up.” A snort, a noise I’d never heard him make before exited his mouth. "These drugs feel amazing," he said and laughed.
"Yeah, you are." I wouldn't be able to take this for much longer. Coming to a damn hospital in the first place was one thing. Listening to utter nonsense from a grown ass man who’d been stupid enough to go too fast in rain, was another. No matter how good friends we were.
“Clint, listen to me.” I cut into his giggling and pulled up a chair, sitting beside him. “You’ve really messed your leg up. You're going to need an operation before you can even think of walking again.”
He stared at me blankly and then leaned over, close enough that his overgrown beard nearly brushed my face. “Rush, I think someone’s stolen my leg. I can’t feel it.”
I ground my teeth together. "Is that right?" I leaned back, pinching the bridge of my nose. There was no way he’d be able to answer questions about his insurance. But I'd give it a try. “Where’s your insurance paperwork. They are going to need it before they operate.”
“I’ll pay cash.” He nodded solemnly.
Yep, I was right. Stupid question.
“Sure, sure.” I grabbed the remote from the wheely table with the uneaten food. “Here, watch something, and try to rest.” I was suddenly exhausted. At least I’d shut the garage for the day and canceled my appointments. “I’ll come back later and see how you are after surgery.” Patting his good leg, and I think even that was battered, I stood. “Take care, Clint. Everything will be okay.”
I wasn’t expecting a response, though I was surprised he didn't ask about Amberlee. Still, I wasn't going to bring her up. It was a dick move that she hadn't bothered to find out what happened to him. Before I exited, I stopped and glanced back at Clint.
“Who will help you to run the business?” he asked, seemingly more sober than he'd been a moment ago.
“I'll work it out, Clint. Just get feeling better." I shrugged and then walked out.
The nurse brought me the paperwork and I quickly filled out what I could, promising to get the rest of the information as soon as possible, though I also told her Clint would pay cash for the surgery.
"Appreciate it," she said.
"I'll be back later to check on him," I added and took off. Even if the smell of hospitals made me want to puke my guts up.
My stomach growled, so instead of running to the door and fresh air, I swerved to the nearby vending machine. I only had a ten and put that in. Checked for my selection. Pushed the buttons and grabbed my candy bars when they dropped. Lost in my thoughts about what the hell I’d do about the business side of Rush Motorcycles while Clint was laid up. Beyond distracted, I didn’t see the flash of blond coming toward me or get a chance to swerve.
Whoosh.
