I mean, it was obvious he’d already seen it all the way he wasn’t looking in the least bit surprised when she lifted my shirt.
Plus, he had seen me naked. Several times, might I add.
He shrugged. “Your sister had to go back for her game.”
I snorted. “You made her, didn’t you?”
“I did.” He shrugged again. “She was talking about getting fined a couple grand. And she can be back here by the next day. I don’t see why she needed to take that hit when she didn’t need to.” He winked. “Plus, you already woke up a couple of times and ordered her to leave. You said, and I quote, ‘Don’t be a pus-pocket-filled pimple, Nettie. Nobody likes those kind of people. I’ll be fine with my husband.’”
I snickered. “Me and pain meds are great.”
“I noticed,” he said. “It’s in your chart that you’re also combative under anesthesia.”
I blinked. “What?”
“It happens like that sometimes,” the nurse said as she started to lift up my gown. “Do you want to see?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
The nurse left my breasts covered, but only just.
The whole right side of my body was covered in bandages.
From my hip to my arm.
“You have some more bite marks going on under the bandages on your arm,” she said. “That’s why you don’t have a permanent cast just yet. Once we’re sure those are healed all nice and properly, we’ll get you in a permanent cast that you’ll wear for six to eight weeks.”
Then she started peeling off bandages, leaving me with the grotesque view of my body.
“Whoa,” I said.
“Pretty gruesome,” Nurse Brenda said. “But one hell of a story, right?”
I studied the claw marks and bites all along my right side, shaking my head as I did. “No issues with my legs?”
“You had those tucked against you pretty tight. Your torso got the brunt of the damage. Your ribs will hurt for a while, too, but there’s nothing we can do for those. You’ll just have to be super careful.”
Of course I would.
“Oh.” I turned to Weaver, who was glaring hard at my wounds. “Do you happen to have my phone? I want to call the school…”
“Already done.” His eyes flicked up to me. “Your sister called them. They know you’re in the hospital. They have a sub covering your classes.”
“Good.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, my cat!”
“It’s at my place, getting real comfortable with my new recliner.” He chuckled. “You’ll owe me a new one by the time that this is said and done. Fucker has some crazy claws.”
“He’s a polydactyl,” I admitted. “He has seven toes on each paw.”
“I noticed.” He paused and leaned closer. “I’m your husband, remember? I should know these things.”
I wondered if he wasn’t allowed to be in here without that “hubby” title.
“Am I in the ICU?” I asked.
“Sure are,” Brenda confirmed. “Bear attack means automatic ride straight in.”
“Awesome,” I said. “I’ll try not to have any more of those.”
