I couldn’t imagine receiving a call like that in the middle of the night, having no idea what was going on and only being fed what little info had trickled back to my precinct from TJ and whoever else had responded to the scene.
How in the world was anything supposed to make sense in a chaotic mess of a situation like that?
Especially, half asleep trying to drag your three year old out of the warm comfort of their bed?
From what I was told, my sister had gotten to the hospital within an hour of me being wheeled back into the OR, waiting for any news about my condition. Sometime around three, she’d been told by one of the nurses that, while I was now in recovery, she wasn’t able to visit because it was past visiting hours and the hospital had some bullshit policy.
Thankfully, I’d been stable enough to call her after my surgeon had left and talk until my pain meds decided to kick in and send me back off to la la land for another few hours.
“Guess this means you’ll have to wait on me hand and foot.”
She rolled her eyes, giving Ainsley’s back a firm pat as she began to quiet down. “Ha, ha. Funny. If I didn’t know any better, I’d accuse you of getting yourself hurt on purpose.”
Honestly, Internal Affairs was most likely going to come back with that same conclusion once they got my statement about not securing the fucking weapon. Luckily, I had rookie-stupidity favoring my side of things, along with that being my first call that involved the use of deadly force. So, desk duty would only last a little while and, hopefully, get me out of safety training.
“Never, since it means I’m going to be forced to eat your cooking for the next few weeks.”
Amelia glared. “I’veimproved.”
“Yeah, with things you add water to.”
“Youlovedthose cornbread muffins I made.”
“Once I doused them in butter.”
“Ainsley…” The little girl popped her head up from her mother’s shoulder. “You might not have an uncle by the end of this week.”
Unfair.
It wasn’t my fault Amelia burned everything she touched. Even meals she threw in the microwave. It was a mundane superpower neither of us wanted her to possess, yet was the most consistent thing in her life aside from her daughter and I.
Small sniffles were followed with a soft, “Unca Terry go home?”
“Monday,” I told her, winking. “I promise. Mom will put it on the calendar so you guys can count down like Christmas. How’s that sound?”
“Oh, you hear that?” Amelia tickled her belly. “He’s coming home Monday. Uncle Terry never breaks his promises, huh.”
Never in my damn life.
That wasmymundane superpower.
Ainsley rubbed a fist into her eye, her face still red and splotchy from crying. “Okay.”
Come hell or high water, I was going the fuck home on Monday. No matter what bullshit my surgeon tried to throw at me.
I’d yet to disappoint my niece and wasn’t going to start now, regardless of that man’s weird and unshakable indifference.
CHAPTER 6
Terran
On Friday,I was up and out of bed with my IV drip rolling next to me while I shuffled along down the hallway, my socked feet dragging with each pained step.
It felt weird to shuffle around the hospital in nothing but a thin cloth gown and grippy socks. I missed the familiar tickle of my waist chains shifting with each step and the compression of my panties keeping me snug. Everything felt too out of place, too wild and free for my tastes.
This freeballing shit was annoying as hell.
The worst part about having a knife wound to the gut was how often that muscle group was needed in order to do literally everything. From sitting up, to going to the bathroom, to reaching for a damn drink off my tray when the nurses brought me my morning breakfast. Small twinges of pain that added up until my entire lower half was sore from overstraining it.
