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"If anything evenlookssketchy, I'll tear your throat out myself," Nate warns. "Be careful with her."
If I wasn't in so much pain, I would roll my eyes--but as it is, I just wince as the IV goes in. I feel the drugs a second later, though, getting a little woozy and slaphappy.
"I'm so sorry, Sloane," Nate murmurs. "This is all my fault. I'll get reassigned--"
"Don't do that," I say, my words slurred. "I like you. You're cute."
He flushes bright red, and I can't deny that it tickles me to make this big alpha blush.
He shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're drugged up, Sloane. You don't know what you're saying."
"I know exactly what I'm saying," I say with a giggle. "You're cute. And you smell nice, too."
He chuckles. "Thanks. You don't smell too bad yourself."
The ambulance screeches to a halt, and the doors swing open to reveal a team of doctors and nurses waiting for us. This all feels unnecessary; I'm seriouslyfine. But I guess it's standard procedure for high profile patients.
Nate jumps out first, his eyes scanning the area for any potential threats. Satisfied that we're safe, he helps me out of the ambulance and leads me into the hospital.
The inside of the hospital is bright and sterile, a far cry from the chaos of my apartment just an hour or so ago. We're escorted to a private room in the high security wing, and Nate doesn't leave my side for a second. He sits in a chair next to my bed, his hand tightly clasping mine.
"I was so worried about you," he says, averting his eyes but never once letting go of my hand as the nurses work on me. "I'm so sorry."
"Stop," I say, my eyes getting bleary as they give me some more pain meds. "It's okay; I've been stabbed before."
Nate's eyes shoot up to mine and he frowns. "What--?"
But I can't answer him, because the doctor comes in with a clipboard. I'm surprised to find my doctor is a female omega just like me, and her eyes widen as she looks at my chart.
"Oh my God--Senator Ashford!" she says. "It's an honor."
"Please, call me Sloane," I smile. I try to extend my hand, but then I remember that it's still bleeding. "I'm still not used to the senator thing."
The doctor nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Of course, Sloane. I'm Dr. Moretti. I'll be taking care of you while you're here."
"I'm really fine, Dr. Moretti," I say, still feeling a little woozy from the pain meds. "I don't need to be here."
She gives me a stern look. "You were stabbed, Sloane. You need to be here. We need to make sure the wound is clean, and that you didn't lose too much blood. We just want to keep you for a few hours."
I sigh, knowing she's right. "Okay, fine."
Nate clears his throat. "Dr. Moretti, can you tell us anything you know about the wound?"
She nods and takes a seat. "You're Secret Service?"
"Yeah," Nate says. "Enclave. And of course...I don't think I have to mention this, but this will all need to stay top secret."
"Of course," she says. "Well then...let's take a look."
Dr. Moretti pulls back the bandage, revealing two deep gashes in my arm. My vision blurs as she starts to clean the wound, and I can feel the tears threatening to spill over. Nate holds my other hand tight as he watches with a furrowed brow, his jaw clenched in anger.
"Defensive wounds," she says. "It's a good thing you fought back...otherwise this could have been a whole lot worse."
"Can you tell me about the weapon?" Nate asks.
"There wasn't any poison on the blade, so that's good," she says. "But your forensics unit will be able to do more to figure anything out about the weapon than I will."
I close my eyes, feeling the pain start to dissipate as the medication kicks in. Nate strokes my hair, his fingers gentle against my scalp.
