Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“You’ll tell us,” I promise her, relieved that she seems to be fine. “But right now, I’m taking you to the doctor.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Erin
“I’m fine,” I insist for the sixtieth time. “I’m not dizzy. I just have a hell of a headache.”
“Hmm.” The doctor, a pretty woman named Emily Peabody, doesn’t say much as she shines a light in my eyes. “Follow my finger.”
I do, and she says, “Hmm,” again, and makes notes on her computer.
“Dr. Peabody,” I repeat. “I’m fine. I just need to go home and lie low for a day or two.”
“I agree,” she finally says, and I glance at Remington triumphantly.
“Told you.”
“The X-rays don’t show any fracture where you were punched. You’re going to have one hell of a black eye for a while, but that’ll heal. I suspect the psychological trauma will take longer, though.” She turns to me with kind eyes. “I can recommend a good therapist if you’d like.”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard and grip Remington’s hand. “Yeah, I think I would.”
She nods and stands. “I’ll write it on your discharge papers. Take ibuprofen for the pain, and get some rest.”
“Thank you,” Rem and I say in unison as she leaves the room.
“Scared the shit out of me,” Rem says as he leans in to kiss my cheek. “My God, when I saw you there, unconscious, I…it was a bad moment.”
“I thought for sure he’d kill me,” I admit softly and brush my fingers through Rem’s hair. “His eyes, they were crazy. He’s not mentally right.”
“He’s going back to jail,” he says with certainty. “Chase will have some questions for you.”
“I’ll talk to him now. Where is he?”
“I told him to wait until you’re feeling better.”
“Remington.” I roll my eyes and then flinch at the pain. “I have to talk to him right away. I’ll go over to his office when we leave here.”
“No driving,” Dr. Peabody announces as she walks back into the room. “Not for today, anyway. Let your handsome fella here chauffer you around. Take it easy.”
“Thanks.” I stand, and Rem slides his arm around my waist to keep me steady.
Which, right now, I need.
“Let’s go,” I murmur. “I hate hospitals. Did anyone call my parents?”
“Chase did,” Rem replies. “He texted me. They’re on their way.”
“What?” I frown up at him as relief floods through me. I really want my mama. “They don’t need to come out here. I’m fine.”
“Maybe if you keep saying that, you’ll talk yourself into it.” He spares me a mild glance. “They’re worried about you and want to see you. And I can see by the look on your face that you’re relieved. You don’t always have to be the badass, you know. Also, Chase will meet us at the house. You’re not going to his office.”
“Did he say that?”
“No, I said that. I’m taking you home, Doc. No arguments.”
I don’t feel up to arguing. “Oh, shit! The kids! Where are the kids?”
“Millie took them home,” he says.
“Okay, good.”
He leads me to the Suburban, buckles me in, and then circles around to the driver’s side. My head is spinning a little, so I close my eyes and lean on the cool glass of the window.
“I know you want me to tell you everything. But it’s just easier if I say it once, when Chase is with us. I don’t have the energy to go through it several times.”
“That’s fine,” he replies and reaches for my hand. Since I woke up in Roger’s living room, Rem has had his hand on mine in some way. He’s been close to hold me and reassure me, and I’m so grateful. “I know the most important piece, and that is that you’re safe.”
“You get swoony in an emergency.” God, every piece of my body is so sore.
He chuckles. “Most people call it pushy.”
“I like that you’re protective and that you take control in a crisis. It’s hot. Pull over so we can have some car sex.” I can’t keep my eyes open.
“As tempting as that is, I’m going to pass for the time being. I’ll take a rain check, though. Baby, you’re so tired.” He kisses the back of my hand.
“You never call me baby.” I open one eye and peer over at him. “Like, never. But I think I kind of like it.”
“I’m feeling particularly tender toward you right now,” he admits. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be monitored in the hospital overnight?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never taken a punch to the face.”
“I’ve had my share.”
“And did you spend the night in the hospital?”
He doesn’t say anything, and I close my eye again.
“See? I just need a nap and some ibuprofen. Part of me thinks I should call my parents and tell them to stay home, but the other part kind of wants my mommy, so I won’t.”
He pulls off the freeway and through the gate, and when he stops in front of the house, I frown.