Page 71 of Long Road Home

He warned her what symptoms to look out for and left her to it.

Kenna pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

A nurse strode into the room, holding a phone to her ear. Frowning. “Yes, she is. Okay.” Older than Kenna, she had the look of someone who’d seen everything at least once and was no longer capable of being surprised. Or so she’d thought until now. She held out the phone. “There’s a call for you.”

Kenna eased her feet to the floor and tried to figure out where her shoes were. “Thanks.” She took the phone. “Maze?”

“No, it’s me.”

Jax.

“I’m okay.” Kenna nearly collapsed to the floor. She heard the nurse say, “Whoa. Easy.” But she didn’t want to lie down again. “I’m okay.” She said again, into the phone. “Really. I’m all right.”

“But you won’t stay in the hospital,” Jax scolded, “and you refuse to admit you might be hurt.”

“Just because I’ve been knocked out twice in the last few days doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong. I have work to do.”

The nurse gave her a look, crouched by the bed. She retrieved Kenna’s boots from a cabinet and set them on the floor.

“Tomorrow you’ll feel like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Probably.” She wanted to say more, but the thoughts escaped her.

“Good thing I can see for myself.”

“Tomorrow?”

“ASAP,” Jax said. “And it can’t be soon enough as far as I’m concerned. My ASAC signed off on picking up Stan Tilley, so I’m going home to pack.”

“How did you know where I was?” She eased her feet into her boots.

“Maizie called when your heart rate went haywire and she couldn’t get through to you.”

“My phone was broken.” The nurse hung by the door, probably waiting for her to give back the phone. “I’m in protective custody until further notice.” Then the sheriff had said she’d be with the FBI. Which meant she’d be with Jax.

Kenna lowered her chin. “Did you get my message?”

“Yes.” His voice softened. “We’ll talk about it. But for now, can you just trust that we get more done together than we do apart?”

She might need another case—and a lifetime working together—to fully let that sink in. But she was willing to try. “For now.”

“All right.” He sighed. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

The nurse came back over to get the phone from Kenna. “Boyfriend?”

“FBI,” Kenna corrected.

“Whatever floats your boat, I guess.” She wandered to the door. “You good?”

“Yeah, but do you know where I can find Theodore Campbell?”

“Down the hall to the left. Follow the noise.” She disappeared into the hall.

Kenna used the bathroom across from this room, moving gingerly. There had to have been pain meds in that IV bag. She’d refused a prescription from the doctor. It wasn’t worth messing around with narcotics, even if she was going to be grumpy tomorrow if everything hurt.

She wanted to feel the pain so she could work with her body, not be clueless as to what hurt and carrying on as per usual. That would only make recovery take longer.

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