Page 31 of Saving You

“It’s Gage.” His mouth thinned to a grim slash and my heart stopped before starting to beat again twice as hard as before. The unanswered messages, I should have known something had happened.

Grabbing my purse, I practically ran to where they were standing. “Take me to him.”

24

GAGE

“Did you really have to bring me to the same hospital as them?” I dug my fingers into my brow bone, trying to relieve the pressure inside my head.

I was currently lying on a hospital bed that was about two sizes too small for me, while I and the entire emergency room listened to the Turners scream at each other. At least there was a flimsy curtain that kept me from having to see them as well.

“Sorry, bud, this was the closest hospital with a trauma center. Believe it or not, stabbings and strangulations both fall under trauma,” Roe sarcastically said as he spun around on one of those stools that were reserved for hospital staff. The fucker was incapable of sitting still, he’d already taken his blood pressure twice and tried to look inside his own ear with an otoscope he’d swiped from the nurses’ station and the camera on his phone.

“You can leave you know. I’m perfectly capable of being alone while I get sewn up. Hell, I stitched my own fucking leg in the middle of an active war zone.”

“Okay, Rambo, calm down. Allow yourself to enjoy the luxuries of modern medicine like penicillin and sterile instruments.”

“It’s a rule of mine to never take advice from someone in their thirties who reads books with pictures.” My side was starting to throb more and though I’d never admit it, the bickering with Roe was helping to distract me.

“Web comics are an acceptable form of literary entertainment and you’d know that if you used your phone for something other than making calls like a geriatric.”

“Hello there,” the curtain swung aside and a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and thick glasses walked in. He wore light blue scrubs and a blindingly clean white coat. I’d never understood why white was the official color for health professionals. You’d think that someone who dealt with bodily fluids all day wouldn’t want something that stains so easily.

“I’m Dr. Glasscock and I’ll be taking care of you today.”

My gaze slid to the side to find Roe’s eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. His face was turning red from the obvious effort it was taking him not to offer a comment or joke on the doctor’s name. I smiled, enjoying how much it must be torturing him after he’d annoyed the hell out of me for the last hour.

“You’ve got a nasty wound that we’ll be stitching for you today. How’d that happen exactly?” He pulled a pair of gloves out of one of the cardboard boxes attached to the wall and slid his hands inside. He gave Roe a stern look that looked a lot like the kind my Gram used to give me when she caught me sneaking cookies before dinner. Roe winced, scrambling off the stool and moved to lean against the wall instead.

“Just lucky I guess.” He lifted the gauze that had been covering my wound and caused me to hiss in a breath through my teeth.

“Lucky indeed, it’s not too deep, no major muscle damage. You should heal up nicely as long as you keep the area clean and refrain from major physical activity. I’m going to start by injecting some lidocaine around the area and once that’s got you good and numb, we’ll get you closed up and out of here. Sound good?”

After nodding, I rested my head against the paper-covered pillow and stared at the ceiling, the prick of the needle and cool sting of the lidocaine being injected barely registering. Dr. Glasscock was efficient, the time spent sewing my jagged skin back together was quick and he was off to take care of another patient while his nurse placed clean gauze over the area and taped it into place.

Promising to return shortly with discharge papers, the nurse left, taking all the bloody supplies with her. The curtain had barely closed when it was pulled aside once more, three familiar faces assessing me.

“Every time one of you idiots gets yourself stabbed or shot our insurance goes up. Do you think we could go at least one calendar year without a trip to the hospital?” Gray asked with a strained smile.

“He’s not wrong, there were at least four nurses and two doctors that looked horrified when they saw us. One guy even ran up to us with an empty wheelchair,” Kane joked as he slipped his giant mass between the parted fabric.

“Maybe y’all need a better vetting process considering it was a client that did this.” I gestured to my bandaged torso. “I’ve done some extreme jobs but getting paid to be stabbed is not something I want to repeat.”

“Adam,” a horrified gasp had my head snapping forward to find a teary-eyed Mia standing at the foot of my hospital bed. Kane must have been blocking her when he came in.

“What’s she doing here?” I growled, mentally beating the shit out of myself when a flash of hurt crossed her face. Damnit, the last thing I wanted was Mia questioning being with me because I had a job that could be dangerous at times.

It had been a major hurdle for Roe and Sam when they first got together. They’d both been shot within months of each other, ending up in this same damn hospital. Something like facing your partner’s mortality can be hell on a relationship.

“You told me not to call her. You didn’t say anything about not telling her in person.” Now I was mentally beating the shit out of Gray as Mia’s face fell further. Unsurprisingly he wasn’t quelled by the anger-filled glare I shot his way. He never had been and it’s one of the reasons I respected him even when he was pissing me off.

“Dr. Glasscock! His doctor’s name was Glasscock,” Roe bent in half, hands on his knees and gasped for air like he’d been holding his breath for the last thirty minutes.

“Get out,” I barked, never taking my eyes off Mia. She jumped at my command and I fell further into the shitty pool that was this godforsaken day.

“Yep, that’s fair,” Roe pushed from the wall and walked toward the others.

“Glasscock, huh? That must’ve been killing you,” Sam commented.

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