Page 45 of Erik's Redemption
“That’s why I’m calling,” Chandler said. “The guy I’ve got on her today said she left work in a rush. She was holding her head before she got into her car and wasn’t steady on her feet. He stuck closer to her than usual on the drive to her place because he was worried she’d get into an accident. She drove really slowly and swerved a couple times.”
His skin chilled. Was she sick? Fuck, she shouldn’t be home alone with her diabetes.
“Thanks for calling, Chandler.” He hung up before his friend had a chance to respond, then he made his way across to her house.
A voice in his head said he should call someone else to check on her. That seeing him might make everything worse. But fuck, he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to see with his own eyes that she was okay.
When he reached her door, all he wanted to do was walk straight in, but he forced himself to stop and knock. His fist hit the wood too hard. When there was no answer, he knocked again, this time harder. Every second that passed felt like ten.
No answer.
Fuck it.He turned the knob and stepped inside.
The knockingon the door pounded into Hannah’s skull like a small hammer hitting at her head from the inside.
She scrunched her eyes closed, begging it to stop. It did, but only for a second, then it started up again, this time louder.
She groaned deep in her throat, wanting to cover her ears with her hands, but God, she felt weak. When the knocking stopped for a second time, the air rushed out of her. Then there was the soft click of the door opening, followed by footsteps.
The scent that tinged the air made emotion clog her throat. It was a scent she’d recognize anywhere. Crisp pine and deeply masculine.
“Angel, talk to me. What’s going on?”
Erik’s words seeped into her skin, calming some of the panic that had been unraveling in her belly from the pain. When hiswarm hand touched her cheek, she wanted to lean into it, borrow some of his warmth and strength.
She forced her eyes open, cringing at the light that shone into her eyes. “Need you to check my blood sugars.”
She’d just closed her eyes again when strong fingers lifted her wrist and pulled up her sleeve. He cursed. “You’re not wearing your watch.” There was the distant sound of him rummaging through her bag. “Your phone isn’t here.”
It wasn’t? Had she left it at work?
She knew the second he left her. Not because of footsteps or the rustle of movement, but because shefeltthe loss. Immediately, she wanted to tug him back, but she could barely move. God, why was she so tired? And not just tired. Achy and thirsty. And when she’d opened her eyes, her vision was blurred.
Those were the classic symptoms of high blood sugar, but she’d injected before breakfast. Why would she be high?
His voice sounded again, but it was distant. It took her a moment to realize he was on the phone. She heard words like “sick” and “sugars.” She was half-asleep when she felt warmth surround her hand, then a prick. When he lowered her hand again, his touch only left her for a moment before arms slipped around her and air rushed around her body.
A mattress dipped under her weight. She wasn’t sure if she fell asleep or not, but the next time she was cognizant, there was a second voice. It took her a moment to recognize it as Andi.
“Did you check her sugars?”
“She’s high at four hundred and ten,” Erik said. “I couldn’t find the pump on her body. I don’t think she’s wearing one.”
“Okay. We need to administer a correction in the form of an additional dose of insulin to bring her blood sugar back to normal. Then we’ll wait a bit and recheck. Her level of exhaustion isn’t in proportion with a high, though. So I’mthinking she has a virus that’s pushing her levels up. We need to keep checking and watching her.”
The words started to blur, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
Warm hands took hers, then there was a prick on her side.
“Sorry, Angel.” Erik’s soft words filtered into her head, soothing her. “We’re going to make sure you’re okay.”
“Check her levels again in about an hour,” Andi said.
“You don’t think she needs a hospital?”
“All they’ll do is give her insulin and fluids like we’re doing now. She would only need to go in if her numbers got into the six hundreds—that will mean she’s in diabetic ketoacidosis.”
Hannah stopped listening as the headache pulled her under.
