Page 11 of Renegade

She set her board aside before sitting down next to me, taking my hand in hers. I would’ve bailed off my board a lot earlier had I known I’d get this treatment.

David climbed up next and his brow wrinkled. “What the hell happened to you?”

I shrugged. “Made friends with the ocean floor—I’m good.” I unwrapped the towel to show him I was fine as blood pumped steadily from my wound. Maybe I should’ve been more worried; I was starting to get dizzy.

Patrick was the last to get back on the boat and his face paled when he saw Sadie’s hand in mine. I winked at him. “Some wave back there, man.”

He nodded absently before sitting down across from us, his eyes never leaving our hands.

Once we reached the harbor, Captain Roy made a big fuss of getting me off the boat and back to our truck. After arguing that we didn’t need him to drive us to the hospital, he went back to settle things up with the boat. David helped me into the bed of the pickup truck. “You gotta sit back here. I don’t want blood all over my seats.”

I agreed and tried to get comfortable against the metal.

“You got room for one more?” Sadie asked as she climbed over the tailgate.

I nodded, my mouth dry. I wanted to remember the way she looked in this moment—with the sunlight hitting her face and highlighting her blonde hair. That’s when I knew that I must’ve lost a lot of blood—her tits were practically falling out of her swimsuit top and I was hung up on her hair.

Patrick insisted on joining us as well, but David had him follow us in his Jeep, leaving me and Sadie to ourselves. I was going to owe him one.

Either the emergency room was having a slow Saturday night or the nurses were afraid that I was going to create a river of blood through the waiting room, so they wasted no time in getting me back to a room.

An hour later, I’d been disinfected and diagnosed with a pretibial flap laceration—medical speak for a fucked-up shin. The doctor explained that they’d have to use steri-strips to close the wound as the skin was too thin for stitches. Then, to add insult to my injury, she told me I had to be off of it for at least the next few days and out of the water until it was completely healed.

I punched the plastic bedrail in frustration. I’d just gotten somewhere with Sadie—it was crucial that I be back out on the water tomorrow or risk losing her to Patrick.

Fucking Patrick.

He was probably cozying up to her in the waiting room while they worked to close my leg up.

“I called your mom.” David shut the curtain behind him and walked over to the bed.

“And?” I asked. Knowing my mom, she was probably sick with worry and headed up here. Just what I needed for Sadie to see—Mikey’s mommy taking care of him.

Well, this day had officially gone to shit.

David grinned, “She said she’d expected something like that with all of the ‘surfing experience’ you had. Then she gave the nurse her insurance information and told me to make sure you got home safely.”

I frowned. “She’s not coming down here? Was she drunk?” My mom wasn’t a drinker—not even close, but that was the only possible explanation for why she hadn’t flipped out.

He shook his head and rocked on his heels. “She sounded fine. Don’t get me wrong, she was worried, but we’re basically grown men now.”

I agreed as the doc finished up. “Okay, Mr. Sullivan, we’re all done. I’ll write you a prescription for pain medication; you’re going to be hurting a lot over the next few days.”

They gave me a card for a follow-up appointment in a few weeks—probably wanted to make sure my leg hadn’t rotted and fallen off by then. That’d just be my luck.

Once everything was squared away, they wheeled me out into the waiting room, where Patrick and Sadie were waiting. She jumped up when she saw me, while Patrick glared right through me.

“Are you going to be okay?” She leaned down and stroked my arm. I was disappointed to see that she was wearing a hoodie now—I’d declined IV pain meds so that I’d be alert enough to appreciate the view this time around.

That’d been pointless, obviously.

“Well, the doctor had some pretty specific instructions in order for me to heal.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

Her brow furrowed in concern. “Like what?”

I sighed and looked down. “Well, I’ve got to stay off of it and keep it elevated. She also said I was going to need a date with you—that part was crucial. I could lose my leg.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Patrick muttered to himself.

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