Never one to underestimate his own irresponsible stupidity in the face of danger, he almost laughed that she thought such a response was beyond the norm for him. “That’s not hard for me to believe at all. In fact, it sounds just like some shit I would do when I’m outta my head. I’m a natural born fighter, and that shit does not just go away every time I bump my head.”
The woman grinned at him, clearly appreciating his manly idiosyncrasies and self-deprecating humor. “I’m no doctor, but since you’re hydrated and alert enough to take medications, you won’t need the IV you…umm…removed to be reinserted.”
Trying to shake off the slowly diminishing headache, he chose not to argue that they weren’t sticking him again because he’d already drawn his line in the goddamn sand by removing it. To demonstrate his appreciation for her being kind and trying to understand his point of view, he tried to moderate his tone. “Look, lady, I don’t care if you’re a doctor or not. You must know if and when I can get the hell outta here.”
“I know your physician had not approved you to be ambulatory yet, and that’s a strong indication that it would not be reasonable to expect you to be steady on your feet while the medications are still in your system. Continual attempts may result in tearing open your sutures or even falling and incurring another injury. If you lie back down, I’ll tell you everything I know and help you get whatever you need as best I can.”
Knowing he was being somewhat unreasonable, Ryder massaged his chest as he tried to formulate a plan of action. His chest ached as he nursed the irrational fear that if he laid down, he would not be getting up again. “I ain’t laying back down until you start spitting out answers to my damn questions. Where the hell am I?”
“You’re at St. Mary’s on the outskirts of Bismarck, and you’ve been here—”
“Fuck,” Ryder hissed under his breath. “Bismarck, North freaking Dakota?”
Following what appeared to be her normal, empathetic manner of interaction, she fluffed his pillow as she conversed soothingly, “Yes, Mr. Staunton, you’ve been here nearly five hours. As I said, EMS elected to bring you by helicopter due to the severity of your injuries. Some bright spark probably thought we were the best option for you because we specialize in traumatic brain injuries.”
“Jesus, I hear what you’re laying down for me, but I seriously need to get out of here.” Though she hadn’t explained why, Ryder didn’t reckon there was much chance of that since his head was splitting open just from sitting up in his bed.
“I’m unclear on exactly why you’re so intent on leaving this very modern and well-appointed medical facility. I cannot stress to you enough that your very survival might depend upon the monitoring and medical support of our TBI team. They are the best in the business, as evidenced by the fact that doctors come from all over the country to see how we operate.”
“Christ, you sound like an infomercial extolling all the virtues of St. Mary’s; do you know that?”
Frowning at his insolent remark, she pressed her lips into a thin line as if she were attempting to hold back a torrent of insults. Instead of cutting loose with those critical remarks, she spoke as respectfully as possible. “If you leave before you’re stable, you can be pretty much guaranteed of a negative outcome. Nothing going on in the outside world could possibly be worth your life.”
For some reason, annoying her was somehow gratifying, and he couldn’t stop himself from stating curtly, “I have someplace to be.”
Continuing her calm and respectful tone, she explained, “Your loved ones will understand. None of them would expect a seriously injured man to leave the hospital, especially one in your condition.”
He wheezed out a laugh and his hand immediately went to his side. “The fact that you actually believe that I have loved ones is downright adorable, doll.”
“Everyone has someone who cares about them.”
Her presumptuous words demonstrated how little she understood of his world, consequently provoking the dark beast lurking just beneath the surface. “Ain’t nobody out there that gives a fuck where I am, except my club brothers and the man tryin’ to kill me.”
As if to illustrate his point, he growled, moving forward in a vaguely threatening pose that had served him well over the years and watched her jerk slightly away from him.
Absurdly pleased with her response, he thought to himself that she should be warier of dangerous men. This pretty little bitch was far too trusting of the wrong kind of men to suit him.
Moreover, after what happened to his sister, he was on a mission to see that kind of shit didn’t happen to anyone else he knew. If edging into her personal space taught her to be appropriately wary of strange men, she would be safer for having experienced the momentary fear. In his mind, he was doing her a service.
Getting back to the subject at hand, he stated flatly, “I can’t be sitting around here making nice with all the doctors and pretty nurses with a goddamn target on my chest. Can’t you see how having a killer on my tail might make it impossible for a man to relax?”
Her occupation notwithstanding, Ryder got the feeling she genuinely cared about her patients in general, especially when her voice took on a twinge of desperation as she tried to convince him to prioritize his medical needs. “The trauma surgeon pulled one slug out of your leg and another out of your arm. As I mentioned, you have a concussion and some fairly potent sedatives in your system. If you walk out now, I doubt you’d make it a hundred yards before you collapse.”
“I sure the hell can’t just lay here and do nothin’, doll,” he sneered.
Waving one delicate hand in the air as she placed the other on the slight curve of her hip, she didn’t seem inclined to give up on him. “You can’t shake off a couple of gunshot wounds like they’re nothing and just go on about your merry way.”
Rolling his eyes, Ryder barked a humorless laugh, both annoyed and charmed by her naiveté and persistence in trying to save him from himself. “A couple of bullet holes are nothing. If the bastard hadn’t hit me with his truck, he wouldn’t have gotten the opportunity to shoot my ass, that’s for sure. Thank God he wasn’t going at top speed, or I’d definitely be a dead man.”
“Her hand flew to her mouth in horror at the visual he’d inadvertently created in her mind’s eye. After shocking her, he lowered his voice, attempting to dial down the alarm. “He’ll be comin’ for me. I gotta get movin’.”
Once his words sank in, her head came slowly up to look at him, and he could see shock and some disbelief on her pretty face. “You think a killer is going to stalk you across the state line?”
However smart she was, this chick just didn’t get it, and he was quickly losing his patience with her innocent ways. “Hell, the fuck yes, I surely do. Look, lady, I know that sounds all manner of crazy, but I promise you, he won’t stop ‘til one of us is dead.”
Her enormous, pretty, blue eyes stared at him for a long moment. After a lengthy pause, she spoke so softly that at first, he wasn’t sure what she said. “I don’t know why, but I do believe you.”
Finally, here was a woman willing to go the extra mile to understand where he was coming from. “You have got to get me outta here because he will be comin’ for me, I promise you that.”