Chapter 30
TOMMASO
T he doctor I vaguely remembered from the haze on Zahur’s lawn, Dr. Awad, checked the bandages on my shoulder, then my ribs.
“Your healing is progressing nicely,” she said.
I offered her a half-smile. “Nicely enough you’ll spring me from this joint?”
She chuckled. “I suppose.”
“Ha!” I started to punch the air in celebration, but Paige’s hold on my hand kept me anchored.
A good thing, too. I’d probably have torn something and gotten another week inside.
As nice as the hospital was—and it really was, rivaling some of the more prestigious places I’d seen in Philly—I was more than ready to get out of here.
Hospital food could only sustain a man for so long.
Dr. Awad smiled indulgently. “That is, with a few conditions.”
I groaned and slumped back against my pillow. “What?”
She pulled out a sheet of paper covered in, thankfully, English. Paige took it before I could and studied the contents.
Dr. Awad addressed her instructions to Paige. “We’re sending you home with two medications, an as-needed pain pill and a twice-daily antibiotic. He’s already been taking the antibiotic….”
I drifted away from their conversation. God, I still couldn’t get over the rush of looking at Paige.
Killian told me a little about what happened in the hotel, and I understood why she didn’t want to talk about it.
Of course, I felt like shit. I should’ve set her up with more guards, a different hotel, something.
But we’d talk about that when she was ready.
Right now, I just wanted to enjoy her beautiful face, the fact that she barely left my side for anything but bathroom breaks and changes of clothes. We were going home together.
“…and avoid driving until you have fully recovered,” Dr. Awad finished.
“What?” I twisted to look at her with a small spike of pain.
“The wheel, the arms up, it is dangerous.” She crossed her arms. “If you’re not careful, you’ll reinjure yourself. Pneumothoraxes have been known to recur.”
I scowled, but Paige squeezed my hand.
“I get to drive you around now,” she said.
That did make me chuckle. “What will the shelter do without you?”
Dr. Awad stared sternly at Paige. “Make sure he follows these. I know he doesn’t listen well.”
When Paige agreed, the doctor strode out of the room.
“Gonna take good care of me, nurse?” I smiled at her.
“Let’s see.” She pulled out a bag she’d walked in with and refused to answer any questions about. “How does this do, for a start?”
Inside sat one of my favorite suits. Fuck, that nearly made me tear up. My recovery hadn’t been too much trouble, but I missed feeling like myself. Having everyone doting on me was weird.
“Great fucking start,” I said.
She eased me out of bed then helped me through changing in the bathroom.
Her hands skimmed over my skin, avoiding the still stitched-together injuries on my chest. The new movements strained me after so many days in bed.
Maybe the doctor was right about not driving for a while.
I felt like I was in a totally new body.
Paige fastened my pants, and my cock responded. Well, maybe not a totally new body. I leaned into her, angling for a kiss.
She pecked me on the lips and leaned back. “No strenuous physical activity, especially things that make you breathe hard.”
I groaned. “For how long?”
“The full recovery period.” Paige smiled. “But I guess we’ll see how long that is.”
I slung my good arm around her waist and let her escort me out. We were met with discharge papers and a wheelchair, which she pushed. On the way through the hospital, I said, “I know I joked about the shelter, but how are things, actually?”
She sighed. “According to Lauren, they’re going as smoothly as we could’ve hoped. The language barriers are a real issue. Caterina knew a bunch of translators, but none of them have enough credentials to legally be in session with Lauren.”
I grimaced. Therapy was the main thing that got Paige back on her feet. “So, what? Are they just sending those women home?”
She shrugged. “More or less? I mean, with resources, and suggestions, and everything else we usually give, as well as a staff member to accompany them on at least the flight, but there’s only so much we can do right now.”
I thought about my plans for the Mansion, how much that space would let Paige expand her operations. There had to be women who spoke other languages in Philadelphia too, even if she didn’t come across them as often. But it didn’t seem the time to tell her about my secret.
By the time we reached the door to the hospital, I was tired of sitting up so straight. The wheelchair was uncomfortable for someone of my size.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
I squeezed her closer. “With you here?”
“Real answer, Tom,” she said severely.
I dropped my smile. “I’m all right. Just wondering how much further we have to go.”
She pursed her lips but didn’t press. “Not too much. From here, it’s just a car ride to the airport, and then the plane.”
I grimaced. “Commercial plane?”
She shook her head. “We couldn’t get the timing right, so it’ll be your worse nemesis—a private jet. But I’ll be there the whole time.”
Killian appeared from behind a black sedan. “And so will I.”
I grinned at him. “And here I thought you’d fled at the last moment so you didn’t have to see my sorry ass being dragged out of here.”
“No, your sorry ass being dragged out of here has been the only thing keeping me going.” Killian opened the back door, and together, he and Paige helped me in.
Sitting in a more reclined position eased a little of the burn, but not nearly enough.
Killian could obviously tell. He drove through the streets of Amman, the capitol, so carefully I almost taunted him for turning into a grandma while I slept.
Then, he hit a bit of a bump, and I decided I didn’t need him to go any faster.
We reached a small airport on the outskirts of the city where a small plane waited with two men in front of it. Stan and Carp.
“They came back after the women were settled,” Paige explained, “but they didn’t want to crowd you at the hospital.”
My chest squeezed. I’d built an organization where my men would fly halfway around the world just to make sure I got home okay. That almost made up for stumbling out of the car.
“Thank you,” I said when the two of them raced over to try to catch me, as though Killian and Paige weren’t already there before I really knew I was falling.
Stan snorted. “Thanks for not dying.”
Carp clapped me on my good shoulder, sending a frisson of pain lancing through my body. I grunted but thankfully didn’t pass out, like I would have if he’d hit the other shoulder. With much laughter and taunting, the five of us boarded the tiny private plane.
Just like the first time, Paige sat across from me and took my hand. As the jet began to taxi forward, she launched into a story about hustling her guards at poker. I smiled and prayed I’d never have to fly this far again.