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I scrawl a signature in the places with highlighter and pass them back to her.
“You could at least pretend to read them.”
“Sorry, Doc. I’ve got places to go and people to see.”
Ten minutes later, I’m dressed and staring down a wheelchair.
“You’re riding in it, or you’re not leaving,” Dr. Singh insists.
With a scowl, I lower myself into the chair and she pushes me out the door and toward a bank of elevators.
Outside, she helps me into her car, which is thankfully not so high that I need to use an arm to pull myself in. I’ll never admit it, but I’m grateful for the wheelchair. Even the small amount of effort it took me to get in and out of the seat has worn me out to the point of exhaustion.
“Listen carefully, Mr. Hunt. You’re going to the club, you’re saying hello, and you’re going back to bed. Someone will deliver some prescriptions before the end of the day, and I’ll be back to change your dressings in twenty-four hours.”
Something tells me this woman is not a submissive at the club.
Thankfully, the drive is short, and we’re pulling into the parking lot for Sin City Subs in less than ten minutes.
The front door opens when we park, and Owen steps out, looking cross.
“What the hell are you doing out of the hospital?”
“Don’t give me any shit, Owen. You’re telling me you would still be in the hospital if I were here with Bellamy trying to track down a mad man?”
He shoves a hand in his pocket and looks at me with a smirk. “We’re not talking about me.”
Turning to Dr. Singh, he offers her a hand. “Thank you, doctor. Anything we need to know?”
“You have a very stubborn man on your hands. Tie him to the bed if he refuses to rest. I’ll be back tomorrow. If you change locations let me know.”
Owen shakes his head. “We’re not going anywhere.”
He puts his hand on my non-injured shoulder as we walk inside. “You need to rest, Tobias. We can handle this.”
I shrug his hand away and grip the side of the counter inside the restaurant. “Don’t ask me to sit on the sidelines while my family risks their lives. I’m here to help, and that’s the last time we’re discussing it. Now take me to Bellamy.”
Owen’s face is a mix of understanding and frustration, but he opens the door into the back, and ushers me in. The walk to his office in the back of the club is almost more than I can handle, and I’m close to regretting my choice to leave the hospital. I fucking hate feeling so weak.
One look at Bellamy is all I need to erase any lingering regret. She is hunched over a laptop at Owen’s desk, but her head flies up when we come in.
She gasps and runs around the desk to greet us. “You’re supposed to be in bed!” Her arms encircle my waist, and I wrap my good arm around her, kissing the top of her head.
“And you’re supposed to be over my knee, so I guess we’re both not where we should be.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I can tell she’s fighting the urge to stick out her tongue.
“Why did you leave the hospital?” she asks.
I sigh. “Because I can’t stand being useless. There has to be something I can do.”
“You can get better,” Owen mutters behind us.
Bellamy looks around me and smiles at him. “We’re stuck anyway, what do you say we put Toby to bed.”
“What do you want me to do, read him a bed-time story?”
Bellamy giggles, and for the first time in a few days, I relax. We are not out of danger yet, but here with them is where I belong.
