Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Livvy
You want to know the only thing that makes it more difficult to stay still than a threat of a spanking?
Try imitating a statue when you feel like an animal whose leg is stuck in an unforgiving metal trap at the same time it’s being stung by a hornet’s stinger the size of a spear.
At the hospital, I’d tried to be as brave as the pixie in the story, but tears were shed and blood was dripped after the cut on my chin reopened when the nurse cleaned it.
Knowing Dr. Frankenstein wasn’t attempting to put me back together using someone else’s parts but was actually carefully applying a butterfly bandage to my chin didn’t keep whimpers from being issued.
The only consolation was the fact that I wasn’t alone while undergoing this agony. Lincoln Waters had not only carried me into the ER, but had reached out to offer his hand when the first whimper escaped after the nurse uncovered the syringe and its attached needle on the tray.
So much being honest when asked the date of my last tetanus shot!
When taking his hand required me to bend far forward, the doctor had suggested Lincoln join me on the bed.
My cheeks had instantly flushed. Not due to the thought of him being with me on the bed, but because the image that flashed into my head didn’t include either of us sitting.
At the twitch of the doctor and nurse’s lips, I was pretty sure they were aware of exactly where my thoughts had gone.
Though, to be honest, they’d sorta gotten a head start with Lincoln’s traffic-light scenario.
But when Lincoln not only sat, but then lifted me to sit on his lap and tucked a stray curl behind my ear before bending down to whisper, “I’ve got you, pixie,” it wasn’t just my cheeks heating.
To say sitting on his lap with his arms around me and our fingers entwined eliminated any of the pain would be a fib. But it certainly made it hurt less. Well, it did until Dr. Frankenstein’s personal assistant picked up that syringe. Forget the pink scrubs disguise, I knew Igor when I saw her.
“Come to think of it, I might have been delirious when I said I couldn’t remember ever getting a tetanus shot.”
“Come to think of it, did I forget to go over the facts about lockjaw?” Igor asked as she depressed the plunger just a tad and then tapped her fingernail against the glass as my eyes focused on that tiny little drop perfectly balanced on the needle’s tip.
“You know, like why they call it lock jaw? You think your jaw is a bit achy now? Imagine that ache increased by, oh, let’s be cautious and say only a thousand percent. ”
I couldn’t even look away from that glistening sphere much less do advanced calculations in my head. All I could do was swallow hard… oh, and whimper.
“But it’s up to you, of course, so what’s it going to be, my dear?” Dr. Frankenstein asked as if I were deciding on which flavor of pie I’d like.
“A teensy-tiny little prick now or wasting away in agony with your jock locked so tightly that you won’t be able to speak much less even suck any nourishment from a straw?”
The ease of which Igor tagged in told me these two had performed this little dance a thousand times… nope, let’s not think about that number, okay?
“You can do this,” Lincoln assured me.
Sometimes it just sucked to have someone believe in you. Still, was there really a choice? I turned my face into Lincoln’s chest and held out my arm.
“That’s my girl,” Lincoln said and didn’t so much as protest when I stuffed what I could of his shirt into my mouth to muffle my scream when Dr. Frankenstein took the weapon from Igor and jabbed that spear into my flesh.
I swore I expected to witness my poor arm begin to swell like Violet had after she’d chewed the wrong gum at that chocolate factory.
By the time I opened my eyes and looked, I was actually a little shocked to see my arm appeared to be perfectly normal.
Regardless, I definitely had something to say about the “little prick”. Teensy-tiny my—
All thoughts of my little speech flew out of my head as Dr. Frankenstein smiled as he rubbed his hands together and announced, “Now for the ankle!”
“No!” I shouted. Well, make that tried to shout, but Lincoln assured my silence by simply patting his chest where my recent gag was still bunched into a wad of wet cloth.
Soon enough he had a matching wad on his other lapel as Igor adjusted me until my poor ankle was left totally exposed to the doctor’s evil plans.
If there was any kindness left in the world, it was given when I felt Lincoln first kiss the top of my head and then rest his cheek against it.
His whispered, “I’ve got you, pixie,” wrapped around me like a beloved patchwork quilt.
Five hours passed, or perhaps as little as fifteen minutes, until I felt another kiss brush against a curl, and heard the nurse state, “You were very brave,” which cut my pity party short. Or that might have happened when the doctor informed me that good patients got a prize.
“What is it?” I asked suspiciously.
And the scary Dr. Frankenstein turned into the fabulous Dr. Eastman right before my eyes when he grinned and said, “All the ice cream you can eat.”
“Wait, does your definition of ‘all’ fall along the same line as ‘teensy-tiny’?” I asked.
The doctor chuckled. “Nope, it’s more like the Grand Canyon,” he said while scribbling something on the papers attached to the clipboard the nurse handed him. Once he finished, he looked up and met my eyes. “Does that make me less a monster?”
If my mouth just happened to drop open, it wasn’t because he’d evidently seen right through me, but because… well, just because he was most likely psychic.
“And let’s save the jumping for happiness for later, okay? It might further damage your ankle and we don’t want to have to do any realignment do we?”
I shook my head. Nope, we certainly did not want that!
“No jerking your head either, little girl,” Lincoln said in a tone that had me instantly stilling before ever so slowly tilting my head back to stare up at him. “That’s better, pixie.”
Wow, he might not have a medical degree like Dr. Eastman, but I was beginning to believe Linc’s expertise was in an entirely different field.
Dr. Eastman stood from his stool. “He’s right.
Your neck might not be as tender as your jaw and chin right now, and while you’re not showing signs of a concussion, both your head and your neck are going to compete with your ankle to see which can ache the most when the adrenaline from the accident wears off.
Keep your foot elevated as much as possible and absolutely no weight on it at all for the rest of today.
You can try walking using the crutches tomorrow, but only for short distances.
The longer you give your ligaments a chance to rest, the faster your recovery will be.
Do you have someone to watch over you for the next twenty-four hours or so? ”
Even before I began to shake my head, Lincoln’s hand moved to gently cup the nape of my neck to keep me still. “She does. If she shows any signs of nausea or her pupils dilate, I’ll bring her right back here.”
Dr. Eastman nodded and reached out to pat my knee.
“I know that hurt but you did great. There’s an ice-cream parlor on Main Street.
Make sure Linc buys you the biggest sundae they offer and”—his finger lifted to point at my mouth—“make sure you take small bites. Give your teeth time to do a bit of recovery of their own. I’d hate to have to refer you to our dentist on staff.
” He leaned closer. “Word is, he’s got quite the laboratory down in the basement. Got it?”
He’d drawn out the word “laboratory” and said it in an exaggerated accent that had me shiver and giggle even as I said, “Got it.”
After pocketing the paperwork, Lincoln thanked everyone while I smiled my thanks on our way out of the hospital.
Granted, a great deal of that appreciation might be due to the fact that I was able to carry the crutches instead of having to wobble about on them as I rode in the complete comfort of Lincoln’s arms as he carried me toward the truck.
“Than’ ’oo,” I said, then gasped in horror. “’ay ’ugge’ ’ee!”
He looked down and grinned. “No one drugged you, pixie. That’s your jaw telling you to stop opening your mouth so much.”
When I just huffed, he chuckled and opened the door and set me on the seat.
After taking the crutches from me and transferring them to the back seat, he helped me maneuver my legs inside, then gave me a grin.
“How about we make a deal? I remember how much you used to like to draw. What if we stop at the drugstore and grab you a notepad and a pencil before we go get ice cream? That way you can rest your jaw while still talking, so to speak. What do you say?”
“’ed?”
“A red one?”
I smiled as widely as I could so as not to move my neck which was indeed starting to hurt as well.
“I think it’s best we just get the whole box.” He fastened my seat belt and paused to meet my eyes. “That way you can use colorful language without danger of getting your butt smacked.”
Who knew that not only could I smile wider despite an aching chin and jaw, but my insides could shimmy and shake without actually moving a single muscle. Well, if one discounted those muscles currently fluttering between my thighs that is.