47. Doc
A wareness comes in waves, my brain getting with the program way ahead of the rest of me. It takes what feels like years to finally open my eyes, I almost instantly regret it. Slamming them closed once more, I groan before carefully fluttering my eyelids open a little bit at a time.
As I adjust, going from the darkness of unconsciousness to the bright lights of the room, I’m aware of someone else. I can hear them moving around, and by the time I get my eyes all the way open, they’re standing over me.
It takes a moment for my brain to process what I’m seeing, and when I do, my mouth opens and words come out before I can think better of what I’m doing. “The fuck are you doing here?” I ask in a scratchy voice as Doctor Aidan Murry stands over me.
He scowls. “Oh you know, only saving your ass.”
“What…” I’m not sure I actually make a noise when I try to talk, my throat and mouth are so dry, and it hurts to even breathe right now, let alone speak.
Murray reaches off to the side and comes back with a cup and straw. He helps me take a few slow sips, wetting my parched throat. When he’s deemed I’ve had enough, he pulls the cup away and I try not to whimper.
“You’re going to be fine,” he says. Almost begrudgingly, he continues. “How much do you remember?”
I sit with that question for a moment, urging my brain to hurry up and fire all its synapses so I can figure out what the hell is going on. Remembering how the bullet ripped through me makes me flinch, and I look back up at Murry. “Most of it,” I tell him honestly.
He nods and folds his arms across his chest. “I got a call from someone named Dmitri, who told me you needed my assistance. I resisted at first, of course. I don’t owe you anything anymore, but they threw my sister in my face.” A dark look crosses his features before he smoothes out his expression again. “When I arrived, your people already had you on a table, hooked up ready for surgery. I had to dig the bullet out of you, but, I’ll give you this, your guys are well trained.
“They had you prepped and ready by the time I got here. It was a straightforward surgery. I would have preferred to do it at the hospital, but your setup isn’t terrible.”
I chuckle, and regret it as pain shoots through me. “Damage?” I manage to ask once I catch my breath again.
“As I said, it was straightforward. You got lucky. The angle of the shot wasn’t great, so while it was close range, it didn’t have the best entry point. It lodged itself neatly against your intestines without perforating it. I don’t know any other bastard who’s as lucky as you are.”
I give him a pained smile. “What can I say? I have nine lives.”
Murry snorts. “All in all, you’re going to be fine. I’d like to monitor your healing progress, but I’d say you should be up and about six to eight weeks. That’s not to say you won’t take longer, but in my estimation, because you’re the luckiest fucking asshole I’ve ever met, that’s the timeline we’ll be working off of.”
“You’re going to be my doctor?” I tease.
He gives me a blank stare. “Well, you can’t very well monitor yourself, and you only have three nurses and a med student on your staff, so yes, sadly for you, you’re stuck with me.”
“Such a shame,” I mutter. I shift in the bed and say, “I’m surprised you allowed me to be moved.”
“Your clinic isn’t exactly set up for long-term stay. So we had no choice but to move you. Your Boss assured me you had a space set up, and I am pleasantly surprised.”
I roll my eyes, but the remarks aren’t surprising. I’ve spent years setting up my office here at the main house so that it fits my needs. I didn’t exactly ever picture myself laying in one of the beds, but here we are.
“Your faith in me is astounding,” I snark.
He rolls his eyes and moves on to the next point on his agenda. “Your…partners haven’t left your side much. I finally managed to convince them—along with your Boss—to get some actual sleep. I suspect they’ll be back in here soon, but I’ll stay and make sure you’re not overstimulated.”
Swallowing around the dryness in my throat, I look Murry in the eye as I say, “Thank you. For everything.”
He scowls at me. “Don’t make this a habit of yours. There are only so many times I’m willing to save your life.”
I laugh, ignoring the pain rushing through me, but Murry must see my wince as he sighs and reaches for something off to the side.
“Here, you should get some rest. You have a lot of people waiting for you to be up, and I don’t want you to overdo it.” He pushes what I assume are painkillers through my IV before reaching again for the cup and straw.
Grateful, I take more slow sips before he pulls the cup away. The water is soothing after all the talking, and the meds don’t take long to work, dragging me back under.
The next time I open my eyes, it’s easier. Looking around, I meet Roman’s wide, dark green eyes. He gives me a wobbly smile. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Zero out of ten. I don’t recommend getting shot,” I reply.
He laughs. “Yeah, it’s not fun.”
“What are you doing here?”
He shrugs. “Someone had to sit with you. Dad is making James and Soren eat, but they should be back soon. That doctor friend of yours is kind of scary, otherwise, they totally would have stayed here.”
“He's not my friend, but good. I’m glad you’re taking care of them.”
He gives me a look that my pain-addled brain can’t decipher. “Of course we are. You’re family, Doc, and they are, too.”
Before I can respond, the door to the office opens and I have just enough energy to turn my head and watch Soren walk in, with James trailing close behind.
As soon as our eyes meet, Soren makes a distressed sound and crosses the room. “Fucking hell, baby. You took about twenty years off my life.”
I give him a small smile. “I’m fine, Daddy.” My voice is rough, my throat once again is dry.
Daddy reaches for the water and helps me take a few sips before he takes a seat on the bed near my hip. His hand finds mine and he brings it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
“You’re not allowed to scare me like that again, Ashby,” he mutters. “Got that?”
Swallowing around the sudden lump in my throat, I nod. Tears prick the back of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. “I’m sorry I scared you, Daddy.”
“You should be,” he says in a rough voice. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I love you, Ashby.”
“Love you too, Daddy.”
Roman makes a snort-like noise on my other side and we both look at him. “Really?” he asks. “Your name is fucking Ashby .” He laughs before covering his mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I… This is serious, but,” he removes his hand and asks, “Did your parents hate you or something?”
I groan and turn to look at Daddy again. He has the good grace to grimace.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t think.”
“I…it’s fine.” I turn back to Roman. “If you ever call me that, I will gut you. Understand? And don’t go running your mouth either.”
His lips twitch but he nods. “I’m a little shit, as Tennant says, but not an asshole,” he replies. “I promise, your secret is safe with me.” He stands and straightens his skirt before saying, “I’ll leave you alone for now, go check in on Hollis or something. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Roman.”
He gives me a bright smile and reaches down to squeeze my hand. “As I said, you’re family, Doc. I care about you, even when I’m bitching about you.”
I laugh and pain flashes through me. Everyone looks at me with concern, but I wave them off. “I’m fine. It’s going to keep happening, you can’t jump every time it even looks like I’m hurting.”
“Yes, we can,” Daddy tells me firmly.
Roman steps away from the bed. “I’ll be back later. Remember, call if you need anything.”
When the door is closed behind Roman, James sits and takes my other hand in his. “You scared me, Ash,” my best friend says, unshed tears shining in his light brown eyes.
I squeeze his hand in mine, trying to reassure him. “I’m sorry. I can’t promise not to do it again, you know I can’t. But I do promise not to ever bitch about training or extra protection again, because fucking hell , this sucks.”
James leans forward and presses his lips lightly to mine. I end up choking on my own spit because never, in all the years we’ve been sleeping together, has he ever tried to kiss me. Though like many things over the last few months, even that limit is shifting.
It doesn’t bother me as much as it maybe should that he took the liberty, as a lot has happened in the last day or so. I don’t blame him for needing the reassurance that I’m here. Besides, I’ve never been opposed to kissing him. It was just a defense mechanism I was too use to throwing up by the time our relationship shifted from friends to fuck buddies to more.
Daddy begins fussing over me, but when I can catch my breath again and the pain goes from red-hot heat to a dull throb, I wave him off. “I’m fine,” I croak. “I was just startled.”
“Savor it,” James tells me. “That’s the one and only kiss you’ll ever get.”
Letting out a strained laugh, I squeeze his hand again. “I love you.”
He grunts, and I enjoy the way his face flushes at my words. Most of the time, James can ignore the ‘squirmy’ feelings he gets whenever I express how much I care for him, but sometimes, they hit just a little differently.
Maybe it makes me an asshole for enjoying the way he tries his best to show me he cares, even though he doesn’t feel it in the same way I do. I know sometimes it can be uncomfortable for him, but I’m injured, so that should give me a little more grace.
“Leave him alone,” Daddy gently reprimands.
Huffing, I shoot Daddy an innocent look, which makes him roll his eyes.
The brief return to normal, even though the pain running through my stomach and torso reminds me that this is anything but a normal situation, eases some of my tension, and I can relax in the bed. My heart feels light in a way it wasn’t before.
Being with the two people who mean the world to me, it’s easy to ignore what happened. None of us will be able to forget, but…there’s hope we’ll be able to heal, eventually.
Daddy leans in to kiss me, his lips lingering softly against mine for a long time, but I don’t mind. I need the connection as much as he does. James holds my hand tightly, and for a moment, I don’t think anything could be more perfect than this.