Page 17 of The Broken Wolf's Redemption

He straightened, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. It felt like his guts had turned to liquid, and if things didn’t improve, he was going to have to find a bathroom before he embarrassed himself in the worst possible way.

He breathed through it the best he could and hunched over. He must look and smell like a vile creature. His eyes kept half closing. He almost considered jamming his fingers into his sockets to keep the damn things open. He needed to be aware, and whatever they’d given him was going to make him pass out.

The time it took Seren to get there might have been twenty minutes, but it felt like twenty days.

Due to another round of puking, which went all over the sidewalk beside the bench, people gave him a wide berth, and no one came up to ask if he needed help again. No one came out of the hospital either to chase him down or wrangle him back in. They must have taken his phone and wallet for ID. Everything could be replaced, but since all the ID was fake, it would be a nuisance. When he wasn’t in the middle of a crisis, he’d come back and hunt it down as well as pay whatever his insurance didn’t cover for the ambulance ride and whatever shit they’d pumped into him.

Whether it was her wolf senses that guided her straight to his bench or straight up luck, Seren’s silly pink micro mobile slowed to a halt. She threw it into park, got out, and cringed.

“You should have warned me I’d need a tarp to protect my seats. I’m going to have to take my baby to the carwash after you’ve been inside it. Bleeding and barfing all over. You’re a wreck, Rome. Seriously.”

“I don’t have time to debate that with you.” The words felt like syrup in his mouth, sticky and slow coming out.

She swept up a handful of pink hair and tossed it over her shoulder. “I should make you beg me for this favor. I had to apologize to a client and leave the job half finished, which is extremely unprofessional. I had to ask Becka to close up the shop for me and move all my appointments for the next few days and that’s not her job. We do our own scheduling. Plus, there’s my time and gas, the degradation to my vehicle—”

He’d never needed out of a place more than he’d needed out of there. He closed his eyes and balled his fists. “Please.”

“You can do better than that.”

“Seren.” Fuck, he’d earned that. He looked her straight in the eye, which made his head pulse and his stomach churn. He stopped before he vomited again. “Please.”

“You must be in a terrible position if you called me. You knew that the only thing I’d be serving up was giant sized humble pies.”

He tried to stand up, but wavered. She rushed forward despite her smug taunting but stopped just short of grasping his shoulder. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

What kind of question was that?

“You stipulated in the contract that what we engaged in would never involve touch. I doubt that was for my benefit. Do you have some condition? Something I could set off? Am I going to hurt you further?”

“It’s not like that. Not that simple.” He ground his teeth against a fresh onslaught of nausea. His mouth was foul and acid crawled up his throat again.

“You’re going to need help getting into the car.”

“If it wasn’t a child’s toy, it would be more helpful.”

“I’m sorry, should I have walked? It would have been so much faster to hoist you onto my back and carry you all the way to your—”

He took two steps, bent over, and heaved up what little was left in his stomach. It was mortifying being in such a vulnerable position. Beneath his hair, cool fingers curled around the back of his neck. His stomach was still convulsing when Seren slipped her hand to the small of his back.

“Okay. I’m sorry. This is enough torture already. I know you can’t go back in there, but I strongly feel that you need medical attention immediately. Think about the risks before you let your daughter see you like this.”

“Can’t help it,” he panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand yet again. He’d never been more disgusting. No, that wasn’t true. The night he’d killed eight wolves he’d been nothing more than a walking, blood-covered corpse. “Can’t trust that I won’t shift.”

“You could be damaged inside. Your leg and arm are clearly ten shades of fucked up.”

He almost laughed. Almost, but instead he used the rest of his energy to hurtle himself the few steps to the passenger seat of her car. Seren flung the door open for him and he carefully eased his leg in. It was definitely broken somewhere.

“It’s the morphine,” he stated.

“That’s what’s making you sick?”

“I haven’t thrown up blood, so I think my insides are fine.”

Seren shook her head and slammed the door, but she couldn’t hide her worried frown.

She got in beside him, reached across, and grabbed the seatbelt. It was no easy task given that he looked like he’d just stuffed himself into one of those plastic toy cars truly made for kids. She didn’t have far to reach, but his chest was practically in the dash. She grabbed it anyway and buckled him in.

She punched his address into her phone and tore away from the hospital.

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