“I’ll be counting down the hours, Doc,” I tell him, causing Braxton and Bridger to laugh.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask Bridger. I’m not stupid enough to know he didn’t come back here scheming something.
“What do you mean, what’s the plan? We break you out of here, take you home, and nurse you back to health.” His hands are in his pockets, and he rocks back on his heels.
“Bullshit. I know that stance. I’ve known you for how many years now? What do you have cooking up?”
“We’re in the process of getting you a certain nurse to help you.” He winks.
“Yoo-hoo,” someone says, walking through the door. I swear to Christ this place is like Grand Central Station, where anybody can come and go as they please.
“I’m here to take out your IV.” A woman who looks to be as old as my own mother comes in. Not the angel I had before.
“Where’s Giana?” I grumble, not wanting this nurse in here. Which is stupid. It’s not like she can’t do her job.
“She’s on her break. Giana will back in a bit and is pulling a double tonight, so she’ll be your night nurse.” She goes about her business removing the line for the pain medicine, allowing me to move my free arm better.
“Thanks,” I tell her, trying not to be so harsh with my tone this time around.
“No problem. Visiting hours end in an hour,” the nurse tells Braxton and Bridger.
“We’ll be leaving in the next little bit,” Braxton states. I know why he’s leaving. He’ll be heading back to work. That’s going to put him in an early grave. Not like I can say much—I did the same thing when Slade started Nighthawk Security.
“Who’s the nurse who’s helping me out?” I ask Bridger, making sure his eyes don’t leave mine, meaning business.
“It’s still a work in progress, but I think you’ll be happy if it all works out.”
“That’s not ominous or anything.” I roll my eyes.
“Don’t worry. If she doesn’t work out, you’ll be pleased as punch to have me by your side, forever and ever.” He does this stupid dance and smiles. It causes me to laugh, which jars my shoulder, making me stop.
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“Yeah, but you love me. Alright, I’m outta here before Kellie eats dinner without me.” Kellie really has calmed his ass down. Sure, he’s still a clown day to day, but you can see the calmness in him now.
“Enjoy. I’ll be here eating shit on a brick.” My demeanor isn’t getting much better, and I know I’m poor company.
“It’s only for tonight. You’ll be back to eating your bland chicken breast, vegetables, and brown rice before too long,” Braxton replies for him.
“As if you don’t eat that?” I quirk my eyebrow.
“True enough. Get some rest, big brother. I’ll see you when you’re home.” He clasps my uninjured shoulder, and both of them leave me staring at a vacant room. Not that I blame them, but damn, what I wouldn’t give to have someone in my life to love and cherish.
Four
Giana
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Well, really, I can. When you’re twenty-five and up to your ears in debt, you do some crazy shit. Including work off the clock with your hospital’s administrator being okay with it for double the pay. Drake is going to need someone every day for the next six weeks, at least. I did the math. The total would knock out a huge chunk of my student loans. So, I leaped, and now I’m here knocking on Drake’s front door to a mammoth of a home, a door so big it’s double the height of myself, and this is after giving my name at the gate.
“Why would someone need a home this big with an eight-foot-high wrought iron fence, not to mention all of the foliage to hide everything? This guy must have issues,” I ramble to myself.
“The door is open, and yes, I probably do have some kind of issues.” Drake’s voice comes through what must be some kind of intercom.
“Shit.” I twist the doorknob. I’m already screwing this up left and right.
“Heard that too.” I just roll my eyes and step inside the foyer. It’s as grand as the outside stonework is. My eyes don’t know where to look first. There’s a staircase that’s wrapped in a striking dark walnut wood that matches the white walls beautifully, the floors being the same exact color as the treads of the stairs as well as the railings.
“I’m in the living room,” Drake says. I roll my eyes. Sure, his shoulder is hurt, but is it too much to stand up and open the door? I bet he’s going to be the biggest pain in the ass when it comes to every single thing.
“Coming,” I grouse. I walk past what looks like a library—every nook and cranny is full of books. What I wouldn’t give to further investigate it. Maybe I can do that when Drake isn’t in a mood. Past the stairs is where I find the patient. That’s how I’m going to refer to him if his attitude doesn’t change. Either that or I’ll end up putting him back in the hospital.