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She held M’s gaze, tears gathering in her eyes. He looked so happy to see her, but also nervous. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” His fingers brushed against her skin where he held her.
She glanced at the other scars marring his bare skin, the wound to his head, the gash down his arm, the strained look in his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
“I’m okay, Lyric, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if you’d get that thing out of your arm.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
The doctor glanced up. “Is your hand numb?”
She nodded. “I can’t really feel it anymore.”
The doctor set aside the needle and tools he’d been using to close up the worst of the gash on M’s shoulder and stood up. “Please sit. I need to look at that.” He turned to M. “I’m sorry. This could be very serious and time sensitive.”
M waved his good hand. “Take care of her. I can wait.”
Lyric shook her head. “No. It’s fine. Finish sewing him up.”
Drew pulled her away from M and back toward the bed. “Let the doctor assess the wound first.”
Lyric lay back on the bed and let the doctor inspect the shard and her fingers. He pressed on the fragment, and she yelped.
“Hey,” M said, looking like he wanted to get up and come to her.
The man with him ordered, “Don’t you move.”
M glared at the person behind the curtain and stayed put.
“Looks like this is pressing on the ulnar artery. It’s a good thing you didn’t pull this out. You could have nicked it and bled out. We’ll need some imaging to confirm this hasn’t actually cut the artery before we take it out and stitch you up. We need to hurry, though, because the blood supply to your hand is compromised. We don’t want there to be any permanent damage.”
“Are you saying I could lose function in my hand?” She panicked. How would she play guitar or piano or work in the kitchen?
“We’ll do everything we can to prevent that.” Dr. Thomas turned to Drew. “Get her upstairs. I’ll put the order in now. Once we have the scan, we’ll need to move quickly.”
The nurse pulled a wheelchair into the cubicle.
Lyric glanced over at M. “Text me where you’ll be later. We need to talk.”
“I’m not leaving here without you.”
The man behind the drape swore. “I can’t stay. I have to go finish what we started.”
M looked at the man. “Then, go. I’ll be fine.”
Aria stood. “I can take you home, along with Lyric,” she volunteered.
The man behind the curtain glanced around it at her. “Who are you?”
“Lyric’s sister, Aria.”
The man stared at her for a long moment, then moved back behind the curtain like he didn’t want them to get a good look at him. As it was, they barely saw more than his face because he had a black knit cap covering most of his head. “You need to go home and rest,” he implored M.
“Not without her. I need to know if she’s going to be okay.”
The doctor sat down to finish with him. “She’ll probably need minor surgery and be released in a few hours, unless there are complications.”
M looked up at the man. “Go. I’ll stay with them.”
