On instinct, I reach over from the good side and grab his hand. “I didn’t, though.”
“Doc still has to stitch you up. That’s why you can’t move yet. After that, he said you could; you just have to take it easy.” He kisses me gently, surprising me. “You can’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promise, knowing with all my soul that I will never leave him or Les.
“You want pain meds before or after I carry your ass back down the stairs?” Ryder asks, striding into the room. His usual gruffness with me is back, but his eyes aren’t hard anymore.
“Thank you,” I tell him, remembering him apologizing for hurting me and getting me out of the car.
He nods. “Yep,” he answers, and I realize that’s as good as I’m going to get.
“If I say before, does that make me a pussy?” I ask because it’s already hurting.
Ryder snorts, “Fuck no.” He pulls a syringe from his pocket with a grin. “Your leg or your ass?”
I look at Gage, alarmed, and he’s struggling not to laugh. He gestures to my hand where the IV still is. “It goes in there.”
I look back to Ryder. “How do I know you aren’t trying to kill me?”
He rolls his eyes. “If I wanted you dead, I would have let the bullet wound take you out.” He walks over to the bed. “I’ve done this before. Doc loaded it downstairs,” he says, softening his voice a little.
“When?” I ask, giving him my hand.
He swipes an alcohol pad over the top of the IV and then uncaps the syringe, screwing it on the top with a twist.Huh.I guess he wasn’t lying. “Too many to count,” he finally answers, slowly pushing the plunger. “Hospitals ask too many questions, so we were taught to take care of ourselves and each other.”
That makes sense. I heard Les tell Zane to take us back to the house and was confused at the time, but now I realize why.
“The time that fucker broke Les’ arm,” Gage answers the unanswered question, ticking them off on his fingers. “The last gunshot wound that I got, the stab wound to Les, the gunshot wound to Dex’s leg. I can keep going,” he says, looking at my stunned face.
I look at Ryder. “You took care of them?”
He shrugs uncomfortably. “It’s my job. They take care of me in turn. Doc can’t stay here twenty-four seven.”
“What the hell was in that?” I ask when he unscrews it again; my head is already fuzzy, making the pain sink into the background.
“No clue,” Ryder laughs. “It’s Doc’s special concoction.”
I don’t even have it in me to be worried anymore. I hear Gage chuckle, but it sounds too far away. “He’s ready.”
“Hold your breath,” Ryder repeats the same thing he said to me last night. I suck in a breath, and he slides his arms under me, lifting me up.
“Fuck,” I groan.
Ryder winces but doesn’t comment. He goes as slowly down the stairs as he can, and I try to keep the expletives from falling out of mymouth. He goes straight to the room I was in last night, the one I didn’t even know was here, laying me on the table.
“Next time you fucking walk,” Ryder quips, walking out of the room. Gage laughs, following him out.
Doc walks over, snapping a pair of gloves on. “I need to unpack the wound and stitch you up.”
“Great,” I mutter.
His sweet blonde wife Loretta walks over, grabbing my hand. “He’s going to numb it. That hurts the worst.” She frowns. “You’re still too pale.”
“We’ll get blood levels,” Doc says, all business. He peels back the tape holding the gauze on, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from screaming. She squeezes my hand tighter to distract my attention from the sick feeling of him pulling gauze out of the wound. I take a quick glance and wish I hadn’t. It’s huge and ripped right through the Perez part of my tattoo; I don’t miss the irony.
“A few sticks, and then you won’t feel a thing,” Doc says, pulling something up into a syringe. I close my eyes when he starts coming near me. “First one,” he warns.
“Motherfucker,” I grit out when he sticks again. With each one, the pain fades away until I don’t feel anything. I still don’t open my damn eyes.
