Page 20 of One for the Money

Brushing the tear away, I nodded and let him help me to sit up, remove the pillows, and lay back down. Erik started to grab the bottom of my shirt to lift it when Bear stopped him and gestured for him to move. This was the reaction I’d been expecting from my grumpy Bear, but it was odd that it took so long to happen. I tried to help by lifting my hips, but that was a terrible idea.

“Shit,” I bit out through clenched teeth as the pain stole my breath away.

“Just be still and let me do it,” Bear scolded.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, telling me that whatever Erik fixed hadn’t been something minor. Once Bear was satisfied he’d tucked the sheet around my hips securely enough so I was as covered as I could be, he allowed Erik to take over.

“I don’t know what you’re so worried about. She was practically naked when I was working on her last night,” Erik quipped, glaring at Bear.

“That was different,” Bear stated.

Erik shook his head and got to work. It didn’t matter how gentle he was, every-damn-thing hurt, and by the time he was finished, I was a sweat-soaked, shivering mess. Erik didn’t look at all pleased with the state I was in and turned on Bear.

“Are you really going to make her wait for the other doctor to get here so he can give her the pain meds?” Erik spat. “Look at her. If she weren’t someone who could handle pain, I’d never have continued. This is fucking torture. I’ve seen it done on the battlefield to make people talk while claiming to save their lives. Give me the fucking medication, Bear.”

Bear’s gaze flicked to me, and I nodded. Erik wouldn’t kill me, not while I was still his patient. Once I wasn’t anymore? Well, we’ll come to that bridge when we get there. Not questioning my choice, Bear walked over to his massive gun safe and opened it. Knowing that Bear would never question a choice I made about my body was something I valued most about the man. We’ve had fights about other calls I’ve made but never when it came to something that involved my personal autonomy. I would never force my option on him either—what he did to his own body was none of my business.

Bear returned with a bottle of medication and a syringe, offering it to Erik. The veterinarian examined the bottle then looked at me. “Do you have any addiction problems?”

“None that involve drugs,” I answered, trying as hard as I could to keep my voice steady despite the pain. “Although some say I have an adrenaline addiction that might get me killed one day.”

Erik didn’t seem to appreciate my effort to joke around as he loaded the syringe. “I don’t mind using this now, but we’re going to have to switch you to something else in a day or two. Even those not prone to addiction can get hooked on an opioid.”

“Wow, that sounds dangerously close to you caring what happens to me,” I teased. “Better watch out. The one who might get addicted to the kind of drug I offer could be you.”

“I doubt that,” Erik said as he guided the needle into the injection port of my IV. His gaze shifted to mine as he pressed the plunger. “If you never sample the drug, then there’s no risk of getting addicted. Besides, when this is over, you’ll probably kill me.”

The sweet relief from the drug started to wash over me, allowing my lungs to take a deep breath without causing more pain. As my body started to relax, I knew I wouldn’t be awake much longer, but before I surrendered to its welcoming void, I planned to have the last word.

“If you think we’re going to kill you, then it’s the perfect time to try something risky. What do you have to lose?” I murmured, letting the weight of my heavy eyelids close. “Who knows… I might decide to keep you.”

von

Recovery sucked ass.

I said what I said, and I’m not changing my mind. Bear and Erik forced me to stay in bed for two whole fucking days. Honestly, they probably would have liked me to stay there longer, but I was going to stab someone with a goddamn spoon if they tried.

Bear had filled me in on what I couldn’t remember about that night, but for me, the whole event was fuzzy. In my gut, I knew there was something important I was forgetting, but for the life of me, I couldn’t grasp it.

“What if I took some LSD? Then I might be able to get my brain to give up what it’s holding out on me,” I suggested.

“No,” Bear said, not even bothering to pull his attention from the lead he was tracking down.

“Why the fuck not? It’s not like I don’t know how I react to the stuff. Besides, it would be minimal, just enough to make me feel swishy,” I argued.

That got his attention. “Swishy?”

“Yeah, I don’t know how else to describe it, and since you’ve never taken the stuff, it probably won’t make sense,” I reasoned. “Okay, so it’s like my mind turns into a slinky, and I can mold it differently, but I don’t lose sense of reality.”

Bear’s expression told me he wasn’t believing a word I said. “Isn’t the point of LSD to distort reality?”

“Well…” I began, then trailed off, thinking of the reason why I used it when I did. Waving my hands about, trying to brush off the argument, I forged on. “Whatever, we’ll come back to that idea if I still haven’t figured out what the hell I’m forgetting. What were you looking up again?”

His brows pinched together, making the scar on his face contort his features into an expression that looked more menacing than concerned. “You’ve asked me that twice already. Maybe we need to listen to Erik and take you to get checked out.”

“Whoa there, grumpy Bear, let’s not leap to brain damage just because I asked a question twice,” I said, sitting up straighter. “Just tell me again while you have my complete and total focus.”

Leaning forward, Bear set the laptop on the table and turned it around so I could see the screen. Scanning the details, I realized he was tracking down information on the address we’d been given for one of the sparesie twins. Various tabs were open for social media, business licenses, and public records for housing deeds.