Page 17 of Trapped with the Covert Ops Soldier

She sat up again. “I’m a doctor, I say I’m fine.”

He pushed her back down again. “You’re covered in blood, there’s glass in your hair, and someone tried to kill you. You arefarfromfine.” He snarled the last sentence.

She’d seen him in this mood before. He wasn’t going to let up until she allowed him to complete whatever mission he’d just assigned himself. “Okay, okay. What do you want to do next? Hospital maybe?”

He stared at her a moment, then turned and bellowed at the paramedics who’d backed off several feet. “Can we get some assistance here? She’s obviously in need of medical attention.”

The two paramedics rushed over, put their tackle boxes of medical supplies down and began a standard check of her.

“Hey Stan, Mike, how’s it going?” she asked them.

“Better than you, doc,” Mike replied looking into her eyes while shining a small, powerful, light directly into them. “Can you tell me what day this is?”

“Sure, it’s three days since I won a hundred bucks from you in our last poker game.”

He didn’t respond to that, but a blush crept up his neck. “How about your breathing, any trouble?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I lost consciousness for a moment or two though. Smitty thinks I have some lacerations on my scalp.”

“I’m checking that next.”

He leaned over her and began examining her scalp with his gloved fingers. Every second or two he found some glass and tossed it to the side.

“I feel like you’re grooming me like a gorilla.”

“No, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? When did I suddenly become a ma’am? I’ve known you my whole life.”

Mike leaned down a little closer and said softly, “That friend of yours has been giving me a death glare. I thought it was a good idea to keep things on a professional level.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Smitty,” she called.

He appeared in her peripheral vision almost immediately. “Everything okay here, Abby?”

“Yeah, but I left my purse in the clinic. Could you grab it for me? It’s in my office in the top drawer of my desk.”

He looked around, then said. “I’ll get it later.”

“Smitty, I’m going to be right here for several more minutes while the paramedics do their thing. I’m not going any where and I’ll be surrounded by police and medical professionals the entire time.”

His concerned expression turned into a glare. “You’re playing dirty, doc.”

She waved a hand at him. “Shoo.”

He gave Mike one more evil scowl, then left.

“Thanks Abby.” Mike let out a breath. “Your friend is kind of scary.”

“No problem. That he-man act of his is getting old really fast.”

“If someone is shooting at you, you’d better get used to it,” the Sheriff said, squatting down next to her on the sidewalk.

“Why on earth would someone be shooting at me?”

“Don’t know, but a high calibre bullet came damned close to blowing your brains out. You want to count on luck saving your ass again?”

“This is ridiculous. There’s no reason for anyone to be shooting at me. It’s probably a stray shot from a hunter.”

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