Page 11 of Spade

“Good, keep me informed. If you need me to run to the hospital to relieve you, just give me a shout,” Ink ordered.

“Will do, but I’m staying with her through this whole shit show,” he insisted.

“I figured,” Ink breathed. “Keep in touch.” Spade ended the call and looked over to find Cynthia laying back in the seat with her eyes closed.

“You really don’t have to stay with me at the hospital. I just appreciate you taking me in to be checked out,” she said. Cynthia meant it too. She had gotten used to being on her own since moving back to town.

“Not a chance,” he growled. “If someone put something in your drinks, I’ll need to let Mace know. You might not be the only one affected, so he’ll need to get the word out. Plus, he’ll want to figure out who did this.”

“You think that other people were drugged?” she asked. Cynthia didn’t know what to believe, but hearing that others might be affected upset her more than she thought it might.

He shrugged, “No clue, but we need to find out if this was done to just you or if more people were drugged. Do you have any enemies?” he asked.

“What, no,” she insisted. “I mean, I’ve never made enemies that I know of. A client might not be one hundred percent satisfied with their tat, but if that was the case, I’m sure that it wouldn’t warrant them drugging my drink.”

“Any former boyfriends who might want to hurt you?” he pushed.

“No,” she breathed. “My ex quickly moved on while I was in California helping my parents after my father’s fall. He was married and everything by the time I got back to town. I’mguessing he was cheating on me the whole time that we were together.” She was leaving out the part about initially leaving town after Eric broke up with her. Cynthia didn’t like to tell anyone about that. The rest was true, so she didn’t feel too bad about her story.

“That sucks,” Spade breathed, “I’m sorry.” Cynthia nodded and closed her eyes. They felt so heavy; all she wanted to do was sleep. She knew that it was probably whatever drugs her drinks had in them, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Yeah, I’m so tired,” she said, laying her seat back further.

“No, sit up,” Spade insisted. “You can’t fall asleep yet. We’ll be at the ER in about three minutes.”

“You’ve been talking to me to keep me awake this whole time,” she guessed.

Spade shot her a sheepish grin and nodded. “I could lie and say that I was just being friendly, but my initial thought was to keep you awake so that the ER could ask you questions. You might have seen or heard something that could help us figure out who did this to you.” He was right, and she did want to find out who drugged her, but she couldn’t believe that she saw anything that might help the Road Reapers who did this to her.

He pulled into the emergency room parking lot and straight back to the entrance. Spade wasn’t wasting any time getting her into the ER. “Wait here,” he ordered, “I’m going to grab you a wheelchair.”

“That’s not necessary,” she shouted after him as he practically slammed the door in her face. Cynthia wasn’t sure why she tried to fight him. Spade seemed to have his own agenda, and he wasn’t up for suggestions from her or anyone else.

He reappeared at her door with a wheelchair, his expression stoic. He seemed more worried about her than she was. Cynthia pushed her door open and tried to gracefully hop down out ofthe truck, but her head had different ideas. Her whole world went wobbly, and before she knew it, Spade had her in his arms and was carrying her into the hospital. She wanted to tell him that his theatrics weren’t necessary, but she couldn’t get the words out. Her world was spinning, and she was sure that this time, no amount of talking was going to keep her awake. Cynthia called Spade’s name as her world went dark, and the last thing she remembered was the worry on his handsome face.

Spade

Spade worried that Cynthia wasn’t going to wake up. She had been asleep for almost two hours, and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, almost willing her to wake up. The doctor had come in to check on her a couple of times, and the nurses came into the tiny room every fifteen minutes to take Cynthia’s vitals while they waited for her blood test results. He felt crazy for almost hoping that she had been drugged. That would explain why she was acting the way she was, but wishing that on her wasn’t fair.

“It’s time to check her vitals,” a nurse said, rushing into the room.

“When will she wake up?” Spade asked. He had asked that question of every nurse that came into the room since Cynthia passed out in his arms. He could tell that the nurse was annoyed with him by the way she smiled and rolled her eyes. Spade didn’t care though. He’d ask it every time he saw a nurse until Cynthia woke up.

“We’ve already told you that we can’t know that. We need to figure out what issues she’s facing before we can treat her. I’m sure that once all that happens, she’ll wake up. In the meantime,we’re going to move her to a private room when she’s more stable so that she can be better monitored.” All that sounded good to him, but she really didn’t answer his question. He knew that she couldn’t—no one could, but he’d probably still ask when he saw a nurse in Cynthia’s room.

He nodded, “Thank you,” Spade said. “Patience isn’t my strong suit.”

The nurse finished taking Cynthia’s blood pressure and smiled over at him. “No kidding. I couldn’t tell.” She told him to use the red call button if Cynthia needed anything, and he nodded again. The nurse left and he sat back down in the chair next to Cynthia’s bed. For now, he planned on watching her and waiting for some good news.

His cell rang and he pulled it from his pocket. “Hello,” he growled into the phone. He felt as though he was angry at the whole world and was taking it out on everyone around him.

“Hey, man,” Mace said. “From your tone, I take it things aren’t going well.”

“Far from it,” Spade grumbled, “Cynthia hasn’t woken up yet.”

“Jesus,” Mace spat, “have the blood tests come back yet?”

“No, and waiting is driving me crazy. I promise to call you when they do, though,” Spade offered.

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