Terror had been his constant companion since he’d received that call from Kent Jensen late yesterday afternoon.
Caley was injured. A fire. In the hospital.
Alone.
She looked so lost and ill. Her face was pale. There were dark smudges under her eyes. She seemed small and helpless.
And he didn’t like it. In fact, he fucking hated it.
“Caley, love.” He dove forward, helping her sit up so he could lightly pat her back. He glanced over as Kent handed him a glass of water. When she stopped coughing, he eased her back and held the glass up to her lips.
“Easy, poppet. Small sips. That’s it.”
She sat back and put the glass back. Kent gave him a curious look. But he didn’t have time to decipher that. He ran his
gaze over Caley, noting her oxygen levels and heartbeat on the monitors.
“How are you feeling, love?”
“I’m all right,” she said.
Uh-huh, sure she was.
He ran his fingers through her hair. “Don’t lie to me.”
She stared up at him then her shoulders slumped. “I’ve been better.”
“Has the doctor been in yet today?”
She shook her head.
“All right, I’ll have a chat with him about your care. Your hands got burned in the fire? Are you in pain?”
“No, I’m on some good painkillers, I think.”
He bet. Poor darling. “Were you in the house at the time? What happened?” He’d been frantic since receiving the call from Kent. He’d basically just headed to the airport with the clothes on his back, arranging a ticket on his way. He’d arrived too late last night to visit. He’d wanted to be here earlier, but Susan had called with some questions about shifting patients around.
“I don’t know. I left to go speak to Dave. To where I scattered his ashes further up the mountain, at this spot he used to like.”
He nodded.
“When I started back down, I could smell the smoke then as I grew closer, I could see that the cabin was on fire.”
“So you weren’t near it? How did you burn your hands?” This didn’t make sense.
She glanced at him quickly then away. “Umm.”
“Caley,” he said warningly. He knew a guilty look when he saw one.
She flicked her gaze up to him then over to Kent. “I’d rather not tell you.”
Oh no. That was not going to happen.
“Caley, you’re going to tell me. Right. Now.”
“Will this come under patient-doctor confidentiality?” she asked, sounding desperate.
He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his best Dom look on his face. “You’re not my patient, poppet. So if you’re asking me whether I’m going to keep this secret from Issy the answer is no. And you should know that even if I did agree to that, Issy would get it out of you anyway.”