“No. It’s just the leg.”
“Your mask protected you from a pretty hard fall,” she said, shining a flashlight in my eyes. “But you didn’t hit your head?”
“Not than I can remember.” I smiled at her, and Macie rolled her eyes but smiled back.
“Your knee looks bad,” she said as the smile faded. “I’m not an orthopedic surgeon, but you’ll probably need a consult.”
“Whatever,” I said with a wave of my hand. “They can throw a boot on me, and I’ll return to work. It’s a small thing, I’m sure.”
Macie didn’t look convinced—hell, even I wasn’t convinced—but we knew nothing yet. Nothing at all. I refused to let today be the day that ended my career.
As Macie and Kass unloaded the stretcher, our ER doctor, Aaron Shaffer, appeared by my side.
“How are you feeling, Butler?” he asked, walking next to the gurney as Macie pushed me inside.
“Like a million bucks, doc.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised you ended up in here,” he said. “I just figured it would have been sooner rather than later.”
“What can I say,” I said with a shrug, jabbing a finger over my shoulder at Macie. “These people make me do it.”
With a smile and head shake, Dr. Shaffer let the medics transport me the rest of the way to the patient room. A redheaded nurse came in, chewing loudly on a piece of gum.
“Hey, Butler,” she said. “Are you okay? Is Matt okay?”
“He’s okay, Rowan,” I assured her. “He got out before the second floor collapsed. I imagine they'll stop by here when they get the flames under control.”
Rowan nodded, but the concern in her eyes was evident. Even being an ER nurse, she still couldn’t always stomach the dangerous situations one of her boyfriends—out of three—had to put himself through doing this job.
“How are the boys?” I asked, just to make conversation, referring to Rowan’s other men, Dereck Denny, who was a cop at Eagle River PD, and Bryce Connor, who happened to be an art critic in the city.
“They’re doing great,” she said, her eyes lighting up as she started an IV in my arm. Whatever drugs she gave me helped because the pain in my leg, foot, and thigh subsided just a bit.
“Tell them I said hi.”
“Thanks, I will.” Rowan smiled again as the door opened again, and Dr. Shaffer came in, holding his clipboard for notes.
“Alright,” he said, lifting the blanket from the lower half of my body. “Let’s take a look at this leg.”
It was difficult to see, and part of me wanted to just look away instead of facing the fact that from the bottom of my foot to the tip of my knee was black, blue, and purple. Dr. Shaffer touched it just barely, but the pain was excruciating. Open wounds and cuts lined my leg's skin, but my knee concerned me. It was three times the size it usually was.
“We need to get x-rays,” Dr. Shaffer told Rowan. “The bruising could be from the blunt force trauma, but the knee is swelling, could be fractured.”
I grimaced, leaning back against the pillow on the hospital bed. “I can wiggle my toes. Is that good?”
“Yes,” Shaffer said. “But something can still be broken even if you can move your toes. An x-ray will show us more.”
Before responding to this, Hansen opened the door and entered the room, eyes landing on me. “Is he okay?” he asked, glancing between Rowan and Dr. Shaffer.
“Some smoke inhalation, but it’s minor,” Rowan said, making a note on her pad. “I’m going to disinfect these open wounds, and then we’ll take him for an x-ray.”
“Doc thinks my knee could be broken,” I muttered, just now realizing that if something was broken, I might have to take time off of work.
Or worse, I could never work again.
The mere thought of that shook me to my core, and I had to force a deep breath before assuming anything more. I just had to take it as it came and deal with whatever I had to.
“The crew is here,” Hansen said, stepping up to the side of the bed to scope out my knee. His expression didn’t fall or waver, even a little, but we were best friends. I knew what he was thinking without him having to say it. “They’re in the waiting room, just wanting to know that you’ll survive.”
