Page 50 of Ride Me Reckless
Chapter Thirteen
Stubborn as Ever
Colt
The door creaked open just as I finished putting on the clean hospital gown the nurse had left me. Not that it made a damn difference—it was still a gown. Still open in the back, still undignified as hell.
“Mr. Bennett,” the doctor said as he stepped in with his computer tablet in hand. His expression was bland, like he’d just left a staff meeting that didn’t go his way.
I raised a brow. “Morning, Doc. You come bearing good news or more of the usual ‘don’t lift anything heavier than your attitude’ speech?”
That earned me a dry smile. “You’re healing well, actually. Vitals look good. Infection risk is low. Range of motion’s coming back quicker than expected, which is saying something given the nature of your surgery.”
I tilted my head like I was impressed. “So I’m a medical marvel?”
He didn’t take the bait. “You’ll need a few weeks in rehab—physical therapy, supervised mobility, pain management. You’re off IVs now, so they’ll likely transfer you soon. Maybe even tomorrow.”
There it was.
The official word. The system was making its plans.
I nodded slowly, playing the good patient. “Sounds reasonable.”
He glanced up at me, suspicious already. “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?”
“Doc,” I said with all the innocence I could fake, “what do I even have left in me that qualifies as stupid?”
He didn’t laugh. He scribbled something down on his tablet and muttered, “I’ll check in later.” And with that, he walked out.
The second the door shut, I reached for my phone.
Rhett picked up on the second ring. “Tell me this ain’t what I think it is.”
“Come after dark,” I said. “I’ve got a mission.”
He groaned. “Colt?—”
“Bring jeans, boots, my shirt, and that old Stetson of mine. The one with the sweat stain under the band. I’m not wearing the same clothes I came in with.”
“You’re really doing this?”
“Damn right,” I said, shifting to ease the pressure in my back. “They want to ship me off to some sterile rehab with watered-down Jello and motivational posters. I’ve got all the rehab I need right at home.”
There was a beat of silence. Then Rhett sighed like a man who knew better but was too loyal to stop me. “Fine. But when this all goes sideways, I’m telling every nurse in that building you escaped on a stolen wheelchair.”
“Deal,” I said with a grin.
As I set the phone down, a familiar thrill crept through me.
I wasn’t running away from anything.
I was walking out—with my damn head held high.
And leaving my hospital gown behind like a flag on the battlefield.
Victory. Stubborn, reckless, and 100% me.
The hallway outside my room had the hush of a place that had already settled in for the night. Most of the nurses were probably doing charting or giving meds. I had about a twenty-minute window before they noticed I hadn’t asked for my nightly ice chips and muscle relaxer.
