“I’m afraid not.” I kissed his temple.
He chuckled. “Kissed by Death. Nice.”
I chuckled, too. No one had ever said that to me before. Of course, I’d never kissed anyone just before making them immortal, either.
“Will I see you again?”
“Yes.”
“How will I remember you?”
“I’ll order a pizza.”
“What name will you use?”
“Grymley Reaper.”
Elliot lifted his eyebrows as he met my gaze. “Ordering a pizza will shake loose the memory. Is that your theory?”
“It will. I promise.” It would feel like a dream until the memory was fully formed. “Time to go, beloved.”
“Beloved?”
Elliot’s soul was spirited back into his body before I could answer.
The paramedics shouted about bringing Elliot back. They stabilized him, then wheeled him out of the restaurant and into the ambulance.
Chapter Eight
Elliot
The hospital beds were better than the cots in the emergency room, but the overnight stay was unnecessary. All I saw was my money flying out of my bank account. Hundred-dollar bills just flowing out of my mouth, making me sick with worry.
Healthcare in this country was too expensive. That was all I was saying. All it took was hitting my head twice to break me. I’d be eighty years old and on my deathbed before I could pay off the bill.
What made it all worse was the reason the doctors made me stay. They were baffled. They said I should have died, and apparently, I did for a couple of minutes, according to the paramedics.
I felt fine. Better than I had in several days, actually. I was going to go back to work. This time, I would make the doctor give me a work release so Mandy couldn’t send me home, but the doctor had to release me first.
The nurse said the doctor was reviewing the results of the tests they had put me through. If those came back all clear, I could go home. Those tests probably cost more than my house. I hatedthinking about money when it came to my health, but Tylenol in the hospital cost fifteen dollars per pill. I googled that shit. What else was I supposed to do while in the hospital? I felt fine enough to go home. Hell, I could probably run five miles if something with sharp teeth and pointy claws was chasing me.
Money stress was the worst kind of stress.
When the doctor walked in, I saw dollar signs again. Really, he was a walking billboard for how to get people to spend money they didn’t have. They got sick and went to the doctor. The bill was so high that they stressed out to the point of making themselves ill, and then had to go see the doctor again. It was a brilliant marketing plan.
But I wasn’t planning to come back. Ever again.
The doctor took one look at me and shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s as if the injury never happened.”
“That means I can go home.” I hopped off the bed.
He nodded. “I still recommend seeing your primary care doctor.”
I didn’t have one of those. I probably should have told the ER doctor after my initial head injury, but I’d been too tired to think about it. “I need you to clear me for work. My boss won’t give me a shift otherwise.”
“I would think not. Collapsing at work would make a boss panic, I would imagine.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine, but you already know that since you ordered a bunch of expensive tests I can’t afford.”
