Page 49 of Trapped Truth

“Here, give me an arm.”

“Fine, but don’t tell anyone. It’ll hurt my manhood.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter in exasperation. “Your ego’s safe with me.”

Taking some of his weight, we navigate the busy hospital corridors together. It’s as packed as you would expect in peak flu season. If Warner and Hyland weren’t busy at HQ, I have no doubt they’d be here, complaining about the human traffic too.

I don’t have the best memories of ending up in this place, and bringing Axel back with a stitched hole in him is hardly an improvement. With any luck, they’ll tell us he’s on the mend. He’s certainly more mobile.

Once checked in by the grumpy receptionist, we linger in the waiting area until Axel’s name is called. As I stand to help him up, I meet Blaine’s dark eyes.

“I’ll stay here,” he says quietly. “Keep watch.”

“Thank you.”

“Any issues, shout, and I’ll come running. Promise me.”

“Promise.” I offer him a small smile.

He nods back, softening a little. “Good.”

“Worried about me, Phantom?” Axel huffs, leaning on my elbow.

“Hardly, Slaughter. Go get patched up so we can get out of here.”

“Aw. I think he likes me, Em.”

“Come on, let’s get this done.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone.”

Blaine’s cocky smile makes no promises.

In the examination room around the corner, an elderly doctor awaits, greeting Axel by name. Sabre must’ve sent all of his medical notes over with the strictest instructions for patient confidentiality.

I position myself in the corner of the white-washed clinical room while Axel is laid down on the bed by Doctor Holiwell, the resident trauma expert. He has warm eyes beneath a bush of wispy white hair that resembles cotton candy.

“How are you doing, Mr Slaughter?”

“Just peachy, doc. Having a great time.”

“Hm, I’m not inclined to believe you with that tone. Raise your shirt, please. I’m going to change these bandages out and examine your wound.”

Axel follows his instructions without talking back for once. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so obedient. His wound is still red and enflamed beneath thick adhesive bandages, but the stitches seem to be healing well.

“I think a few more weeks and these will come out nicely.” The doctor closely examines his wound. “You’re healing well. I’m not concerned about an infection at this time.”

“When can I return to work?” Axel demands.

“Hold your horses, lad.”

“Give me a timeline. Something. Anything.”

“This is a serious injury; your body requires recovery time. I’d advise light exercise once your stitches are removed, but no heavy lifting for at least another month. You may need physical therapy to regain core strength.”

“Shit!” Axel’s head hits the flat pillow.

“Now, now, don’t be disheartened. You’ll make a full recovery in time.”

“That’s not good enough. We don’t have time.”