Page 37 of The Facilitator: Part 3
“Hey,” she said, and smiled.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Two. You’ve been awake a couple of times, do you remember?” she asked, and laughed.
“No. I’m thirsty,” I said.
She rose and poured a glass of water for me before pressing for a nurse.
“You’ve had the nurses in stitches,” she said.
“Have I? What did I say?”
“They have to take care of your cock because you need to fuck your wife in your new car,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“No, did I?” I laughed.
“Apparently. A nurse was sent to ask me what car you had! I don’t think she believed me when I said, two Bentleys and two Aston Martins. I thought you’d been talking cars until they brought you back and I was actually told what you’d said,” she said, laughing more.
A nurse came to check me over. She gave Lauren a wink as she passed. “Right, mister lover man, let’s get you sitting up,” she said, and chuckled.
“Listen, you’re amazing, but my wife is here, and she’s as jealous as fuck,” I said, chuckling and wincing at the same time.
“Mr. Rules will be around to check you when the list is done. Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Starving,” I replied. “And please don’t offer me toast.”
“I think we might be able to rustle up somethingbetter than toast. Mrs. Miller there is a menu for you in the information pack. You, Mr. Miller, get the bland one, sadly.” She handed me a menu. “I will, however, send down some tea, or would you prefer coffee?”
“Tea for me and a weak coffee for him,” Lauren said before I could answer. She turned to me. “You don’t want your heart racing before we get home, they might keep you in.”
I sighed. “I feel bullied here,” I said in mock sadness.
“You wish,” Lauren added.
“Just call reception with your choices,” the nurse said, writing up her observations. “Once you’ve eaten a little something and we know you’re keeping it down, I’ll let Mr. Rules know.”
Lauren ordered a couple of sandwiches, one for her and one for me. I wiggled around on the bed, surprised not to feel any discomfort. I reached under the sexy netting shorts to feel some wadding.
“Leave them alone,” Lauren said, chuckling.
“Just checking they’re still there,” I replied, just as a wave of nausea washed over me.
I reached for one of the completely hopeless cardboard bowls and threw up. Lauren called for a nurse. I continued to throw up and it was decided it was simply the aftereffects of the anesthetic. I had a couple of shots and it settled my stomach. However, it meant I wasn’t going home that evening.
Lauren sat with me for a while until I sent her home. I actually just wanted to sleep. I didn’t do throwing up very well and I had started to feel really ill.
I was regularly checked on and then later that evening, Sam came in.
“Mackenzie, I hear you’ve been poorly,” he said. I nodded, not trusting myself to open my mouth. “The anti-sickness will kick in soon. The procedure went well and your samples are being worked on as we speak,” he said, smiling.
He told me a little about the extraction process but by that point I just wanted to close my eyes.
I slept well and I think the drugs, the fact I was doing something about my situation, was enough to settle my mind for that one night.
The following morning, after holding in my breakfast, I was allowed home. Lauren came with a car to collect me and although a little sore, I quite happily walked from the hospital to the vehicle.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
