Page 248 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
“Yeah, we’re good,” I reply as the doctor who assessed me earlier enters the room.
I move off Hugo’s bed to join Isaac at the side. He slings his arm around my waist, then tugs me in close, so the material of his shirt can catch my tears before they roll down my face. The doctor checks Hugo’s vital signs before peeling the hospital gown off his chest. More tears spill from my eyes when I see the stitched and cleaned, but still obvious, bullet wound in the top half of his chest.
“You must have a guardian angel looking out for you,” the doctor remarks, lowering the dressing. “Do you remember anything that happened?”
Hugo’s lips purse before he shakes his head. “I only remember chasing after the car and suddenly being sprawled onto my ass like I was hit in the chest by a bull… or Isaac’s right-swung fist.”
A smile curls my lips. Even being shot can’t dampen his cheeky demeanor. I’m not the only one laughing. Isaac tries to conceal his smile with a stern glare, but his lips curve high, giving away his deceit.
“What’s Hugo’s condition, and how long until he can be discharged?”
The doctor moves to the end of Hugo’s bed so she can address us all together. “The bullet entered Hugo in the front upper left chest cavity and exited through his left shoulder region at the back. The bullet was a through and through, so astonishingly, no significant bone damage was caused since it entered and exited in between Hugo’s ribs.”
Hugo weakly winks, seemingly pleased with himself.
“You're not out of the woods just yet, Hugo. We need to make sure the wound doesn’t become infected and that the damage to your lung remains stable.”
My gaze shifts from Hugo to the doctor. “What damage to his lung?”
“When the bullet entered Hugo’s chest, it slightly veered and nicked the top of his left lung, causing it to deflate. When he arrived, the surgeon noticed the wound was sucking, and the skin had a bubble- wrap appearance. They inserted a tube to drain the blood and air pooling in his chest around the wound site. The tube will also assist in re-inflating his lung. This type of injury isn’t uncommon for someone with a gunshot wound. It is called a hemopneumothorax. Since it was treated adequately and quickly, Hugo shouldn’t suffer any long-term side effects.”
“So how long will I be subjected to sponge baths by sexy nurses in tight white uniforms?” Hugo asks with a frail waggle of his brows. Even though his voice is laced with cheekiness, the spark in his eyes isn’t as prominent as normal, and his jaw is set in a tight line, showing he's in pain. “A bullet deserves a muchmoreworthy reward than a bunch of stinky flowers.”
When Isaac snickers over his comment, I elbow him in the ribs. All snickering stops when a nurse with perfect timing enters the room. She’s young and cute with long platinum blonde hair with a streak of pink down one side.
In silence, she checks Hugo’s blood pressure, temperature, and his wound site before handing him the remote control that was resting near his hand. She advises him that he can self-administer his pain relief by pushing a button on the remote and shows him how to operate the television hanging from the ceiling.
“If you need me for anything,anything at all, press the big green nurse button in the middle.”
When she leaves the room, my wary eyes shoot up to Isaac. He shrugs, pretending he didn’t organize for the sexy little kitten to be Hugo’s nurse. He kisses the crinkles on my nose when I squint my eyes even more, calling bullshit.
“We better let Hugo get some rest.” The doctor gestures her head to the door. “If youbehave, I may get you out of here before Christmas.”
After farewelling Hugo with a kiss on his cheek, I exit the room huddled in the crook of Isaac’s shoulder, grateful Hugo wasn’t more injured than he is but hating that he was injured at all while protecting me.
“It’s his job, Isabelle, so don’t carry an unnecessary burden on your shoulders.” Isaac’s mutter is only audible to me. “Hugo wouldn’t blame you for being shot any more than you’d blame him for being kidnapped.”
I pop my head off his chest to peer at him. “It wasn’t Hugo’s fault they took me.”That was my own stupidity.
“Exactly.” Isaac glances into my eyes. “Just like Hugo being shot isn’t your fault. Some circumstances in life are beyond our control.”
Yes, they are. Like the death of Ophelia was beyond his control. Only now do I realize everything I said to Hugo about only getting half a man was an extremely inaccurate assessment. A man with an aura like Isaac’s could never be half a man. Even if I only got five percent of him, I'd still be getting more of a man than any of the previous men I’ve dated.
CHAPTER6
ISAAC
Ijerk up my chin in thanks to Raquel when Isabelle and I stroll past the nurses’ station located outside of Hugo’s room. Raquel isn’t a registered nurse. She's a qualified trauma surgeon—nearly. She's in her final year of medical school and works as a waitress at Kiki’s to pay for her tuition. By agreeing to be Hugo’s nurse until he recovers, she’ll have her outstanding student fees paid in full.
She was given this opportunity years ago, but just like me, she has difficulties accepting assistance when required. Jae was apprehensive about allowing a non-qualified nurse into her unit until Hunter supplied her with the last two years of Raquel’s transcripts. She was grateful to accept Raquel on her team with the hope she’ll consider becoming a full-time trauma surgeon at Ravenshoe Private Hospital once she's qualified.
Raquel returns my greeting with a playful pucker of her lips. I snicker and shake my head. Raquel is beautiful, and just like her big sister, Regan, she knows it.
Isabelle stifles a yawn before burrowing her head in deeper to my chest. I increase my strides, wanting to get her back to her hospital room so Jae can complete a final set of observations and hopefully permit me to take her home. My efficient steps falter when Isabelle tightens her grip around my waist. I stop walking to glance down at her. Her breathing is quick, propelling her chest up and down, and her eyes are wide as she peers at something down the hall.
Following her gaze, my blood thickens, my knuckles popping when I clench my fists. Isabelle’s kidnapper is being ushered down the corridor by a nurse and four plain-clothed officers. The shackles encasing his ankles hitting the tiled floor, bellow over the paging of nurses and doctors.
When his eyes float up from the ground, they lock with Isabelle, his head tilting to take her all in. Fury courses through my veins when he has the audacity to smile at her. Blinded by rage, I charge at him. My stealth movements catch the plain-clothed officers by surprise, freeing me to unleash a lethal left and right combination on his unprotected face.
