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They stepped off the elevator on the second floor. “She’s in room 210. That way.” She pointed him to the left. “The waiting room is just there.” She pointed to the right past the nurses’ station. “I’ll wait, then drive you both home.”
Viper didn’t wait to make sure Aria made it to the waiting room and took off to the left. He knocked once on the door, then walked in as Dr. Thomas called out, “Come in.”
Lyric was sitting in a chair, her arm on a table draped in a cloth in front of her. The doctor sat on a stool, a nurse beside him with a tray of instruments, gauze, and other medical supplies at the ready. Lyric smiled up at him. “You made it just in time for the show.”
He went to her, kissed her on the head, then met her gaze. “Are you okay?”
“It’s all numbed up. The doctor is just going to pull it out carefully and sew me up.”
Viper looked at her hand. “Your fingertips are tinged blue.”
“Not for long.” Dr. Thomas used a clamp to hold on to the plate piece and gently lifted it up and pulled it back toward him.
Viper watched the blue tinge change to white as blood began to move again. He slid his hand across Lyric’s back and rubbed, hoping to give her comfort.
The doctor pulled the shard clear of her arm.
Viper swore the thing had stuck into her at least two inches.
“I’ll just irrigate the wound, make sure there are no smaller fragments left behind, then I’ll sew this up.” The doctor pressed gauze to the wound to stanch the bleeding, then did what he’d said and began the first of many stitches.
“Does this seem familiar?” Lyric asked him.
“Yes,” the doctor and Viper said in unison.
Lyric looked up at him. “How’s the arm?”
“It’s starting to hurt.”
“And the head?” she asked.
He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “I’m fine. I promise. We’ll talk about all this later.”
“Where’s Aria?”
“In the waiting room.”
Lyric scrunched her lips. “She hates blood.”
“I hate seeing your blood.” He brushed his hand over her hair, accidentally pulling out a few strands from her bun. He wanted to let it all loose and run his fingers through it.
Lyric watched the doctor tie the next stitch. “I prefer it on the inside, myself.”
They all fell silent while the doctor worked on Lyric’s arm and finally bandaged it. “You’re all set. Try to keep the stitches dry. Make an appointment with your regular doctor to have those looked at in ten days, when they should be ready to come out.”
She looked up at him. “We can do it together.”
He shook his head at her but stopped because itmade his vision go wonky. “That’s not the kind of date I had in mind.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”
He hated that he couldn’t give her everything. “Can I take her home?”
The doctor pushed the stool back and stood. “I’ll write you a prescription for some pain meds.”
“I’m good with ibuprofen.” Lyric flexed her fingers. “The feeling is back.” The relief he saw in her eyes told him how scared she’d been that she’d been hurt far worse than it seemed.
“If you feel any further numbness or nerve pain, get it checked out immediately, but judging by the scan and how well that came out without a ton of bleeding, I think you’re in the clear. I’ll have to come by the bar the next time you sing.”
