Page 103 of Of Grief And Gratitude

“I’m going to put some antibiotic ointment on it, but it shouldn’t need anything else.” He applied something slimy, and Romeo rested my head on the pillow. “Let’s see what happens when you sit up and stand.”

Romeo helped me sit upright and, other than the throbbing in my head, I felt okay. I wondered how long my arm would stay numb. I didn’t wobble when I slid off the exam table, and my stomach was calm.

“I’m happy with that,” Doc Adams said with a nod. “Of course, I’ll tell you I think you should have a brain scan as a precaution. But you'll likely be fine if your headache doesn’t get worse and you don’t throw up or pass out.”

“Flying is okay?” Romeo asked. Were we taking a plane?

The doctor shot him a pensive look. “I don’t recommend travel, but I understand your… unique circumstances. Make an old man feel better and promise you’ll take her to a doctor when you return to Chicago.”

“I will,” Romeo said solemnly.

“Then I guess that’s about it.” He scribbled something on a pad of paper and tore it off, handing it to me. “If you hurry over to the pharmacy, you might make it in time to fill this script for pain meds.”

“Do I have to take them?”

Doc Adams shook his head. “Of course not, but it might help you rest more comfortably.”

“I think I’ll hold off for now.” I folded the paper, and Romeo took it from me before I could shove it into the pocket of my wet jeans, slipping it inside his suit jacket. “I’m not sure you’re much drier than me.”

“I’m not as muddy,” he pointed out, looking at his phone when it buzzed.

“I’ve got some spare sets of scrubs in the back if you’d like to change,” the doctor offered, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “Got a shower, too, but I’ll have to wrap your arm to keep it dry. I figure you might not want to go back to the cabin.”

My brows furrowed. What was wrong with the cabin? I looked to Romeo for answers, and he paled.

“I think the shower would be a good idea,” he answered for me. He rubbed my back. “I can help you clean up before we catch the flight. Dante texted, and he’s taking care of everything.”

“How long do we have?” I asked as the doctor wrapped my arm in plastic wrap.

“It’s not fancy, but it’ll work for now,” he said, ensuring it was sealed well. “Try to keep it out of the spray. I’ll get the shower started for you and set the scrubs out. I assume you want these things burned?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Romeo responded. When the doctor left, he took my hand. “You can take all the time you need. I promise the plane won’t leave without us.”

I giggled at my sudden power, all because I got shot. “Sounds good. I’m ready to get cleaned up.”

Doc Adams returned and led us down the hall and to the left, where there was a full bath and a shower already steaming up the mirror. He left us, and Romeo insisted on undressing me, carefully helping me out of my clothes, so nothing touched my injuries. Then, he removed his suit and helped me into the shower, using the little hotel-sized bottles of soap and conditioner to clean my hair.

When he bumped the knot on my head, I winced, and he looked pained.

“I’m so sorry, Riona,” he said, pulling his hand away and looking at it like it had committed a great crime.

I tried to offer what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, really. It will take some getting used to.”

He gently soaped my body and rinsed me clean, then cleaned himself. We smelled sterile from whatever the scent in the soap was, but at least the blood and grime were gone.

“What happened at the cabin?” I asked as he rinsed off.

“The guys and I took care of things.”

“You killed all those men?”

“I did what I had to in order to save you,” he said harshly. “So yes, I killed most of them. All save my uncle.”

“What? I don’t understand. Why was your uncle there?” Not that I didn’t know why. I needed him to confirm it for me because the thought was incredulous.

“Somebody sent him, I assume,” Romeo said, scrubbing a hand down his face. There were circles under his eyes.

I bit my lip. “Your father?”

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