“Like some asshole shot me in the guts.” He huffed.
“They did.” The doctor stepped to the side of the bed. “We’ll change this dressing today and get some of these drips and drains out. Sooner you’re up and about the better. Bodies aren’t designed to be in bed for too long.”
“And the pain med?”
He smiled. “That can stay for now, and the IV fluids. Tomorrow you can start drinking a bit more, maybe a tea, but not coffee, and we’ll get the drips down.”
“I can live with that.”
“And…” The doctor frowned. “Your colleagues are outside, they are very eager to come in and take a statement. You just showed up outside the emergency department, half dead and muttering about dogs.”
“Dogs?” Mitch appeared confused. “Why would I—?”
“I guess that’s why they want to speak to you.”
Mitch cleared his throat and glanced at me. “Do you think you’d go get me some ice, while I speak to them?”
“Of course.” I stood. “I’ll be back soon.” I was a bit hurt that he clearly wanted rid of me, but that was his decision.
“I’ll send them in,” the doctor said. “But keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll be home within the week.”
“Home.” Mitch nodded. “Right. Good.”
I walked past two uniformed officers who stood with their arms crossed and faces stern. Clearly they were very unhappy about the events that had unfolded and were going to do their utmost to catch the culprit.
I hoped they did, and then I hoped they locked him up and threw away the key.
He’d nearly killed my Mitch…my daddy.
Chapter Sixteen
Mitch
The last five days had been a smorgasbord of pain and pleasant hallucinations. But now the morphine had gone, as had all my drips and drains, and the physiotherapist—who I privately referred to as The Torture Queen—had me sitting out of bed and walking to the bathroom on my own. At least I’d managed a shower two days in a row which had been pretty damn awesome, even if I had slept for three hours after it each time.
“Looking good today.” Amy walked into the room wearing a pretty pink dress and her hair up in high ponytail with matching pink bow.
“You’relooking good,” I said from my chair by the window. “Come here.”
She set a bag down on the bed and then came to me.
I caught her hands and drew her in for a kiss.
As our tongues connected and I tasted her sweetness, a familiar stirring rumbled in my groin.
Thank fuck for that! It still worked despite me taking a bullet.
I pulled back and grinned. “They said I can go home tomorrow.”
“That’s great news.” She kissed me again. “I can’t believe how quickly you’ve recovered.”
“Caveat. They said going home isn’t the same as being better, I’ll still need to rest up for a bit.”
“Yes, about that.” She straightened and folded her arms. A line plowed over her brow.
It was the sternest I’d ever seen her.
“Mmm?”
