Chapter 15 #2
Hugh’s eyes met hers, and even from this distance, she could see him exhale.
See his shoulders lower. Still, he didn’t waste any time jogging to her, and his grim expression didn’t alter.
When police officers stepped in his path and attempted to waylay him, when neighbors called his name and reached for his sleeve to catch his attention, he simply dodged them and kept moving.
As he approached, his stare encompassed her from head to toe, lingering on her undoubtedly pale, wan face.
She blinked at him, unable to process any of it.
He arrived at her side, breathless. Hauled her up and into his taut, radiator-hot arms without apology, squeezing her so hard she squeaked. Pressed a hard, claiming kiss on her smoke-scented hair and waved over Haziq, whose interview was apparently now finished.
“Come on.” A second breath-stealing squeeze. Then, at Hugh’s direction, the two males positioned themselves to support her on either side and herded her toward his car. “I’m taking you both to the hospital.”
As her mouth opened, he silenced her with another fierce kiss to her temple.
“No arguments. I mean it, Gwen,” he told her with such stony, stern conviction, her lips clamped shut again.
His urgency and affection didn’t feel like a show put on for observers.
More the natural continuation of their previous evening together, in bed and out.
As he bundled her carefully but efficiently into his car, all she could do was hope that her instincts weren’t misleading her.
Because if she let herself believe in the truth of her seeming connection to Hugh…
It would be far too easy to fall for him. Although maybe that was just the smoke inhalation talking.
Luckily, the nearest hospital boasted a Supernatural and Enhanced wing alongside its well-regarded common human emergency department.
After Hugh initiated a low-voiced, very intense-looking conversation with the emergency department’s admittance nurse and offered his identification and credit card, Haziq was promptly taken back to an exam room.
At that point, Hugh basically shoved Gwen into a wheelchair and set a new land speed record on his way to the specialized wing.
More firm, quiet conversation and identification-brandishing ensued.
Moments later, a scrubs-clad werewolf doctor appeared at Gwen’s side, introduced himself, and led the way to her own exam room. Without further discussion, Hugh pushed her wheelchair down the long hall at a swift clip, apparently intent on accompanying her inside.
At the room’s entrance, she finally balked. “Hugh, I appreciate your concern. But I want a private exam, please.”
The doctor’s head turned, and his scrutiny of the SERC councilor turned assessing.
“Not because he caused any of this,” she assured the doctor, which didn’t seem to help matters at all. “I’m just a bit shy.”
True. But also, she intended to make absolutely sure that all her recent trauma and smoke inhalation hadn’t harmed her unborn child, and she had no desire to announce her pregnancy to Hugh under such fraught circumstances and in such a public place.
“Ah. Of course.” Recovering a sliver of his normal calm poise, Hugh released her wheelchair handles. “My apologies. I’ll remain in the waiting room.”
She tried her best to smile at him. “I’ll be fine, Hugh. I know you have more important things to do.”
He’d need to deal with the aftermath of his apartment fire. Also resume his interrupted meeting with the SERC chair and determine the architects of a world-ending conspiracy. Those tasks took precedence over waiting around for her, and not by a little either.
Hugh’s brow beetled.
“On the contrary,” he said evenly, with great precision. “I do not, in fact, have more important things to do.”
He didn’t want to leave her unprotected. Which was very chivalrous of him, but…as she’d said, he had other priorities. Not to mention other options.
“You can call Max.” She racked her exhausted brain, and her last few functional synapses did their best to fire in response. “Or…uh, Kip and Lorrie. Even Sabrina. They can get me out of here once I’m finished.”
“I’ll call to update them.” His entire body had visibly stiffened, and his expression had turned impassive. “From the waiting room. Where I’ll remain until you’re discharged from this facility.”
“We have a VIP area down the hall, Councilor Blacke,” the doctor offered as he claimed her wheelchair handles for himself, his own intensity having ratcheted downward at Hugh’s willingness to give her privacy. “Nurse Childress will show you the way and get you settled.”
“Thank you.” Hugh inclined his head. “I appreciate the offer, as well as your promptness in assessing Ms. Wexloff.”
After one last solemn scan of her pajama-clad form and dip of his head, he began to turn away. Was that…was that hurt crinkling the corners of his bleak amber eyes?
“Hugh.” Gwen stretched out a hand. “Wait. Please.”
When he immediately retraced his steps, took that beseeching hand, and gently squeezed her fingers, she sighed in relief and squeezed back. And when she tugged at him pleadingly, he bent low without protest.
“I want you here,” she whispered in his ear. “I just feel terrible about wasting your time.”
His expression softened.
“Time spent with you or for you is no waste, Gwen.” He raised her hand and pressed a brief, sweet kiss to her knuckles. “Take as long as you need. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
After that, she let him leave without further protest. Once the door to the exam room had shut behind her, she eyed the doctor carefully. “We’re covered by doctor-patient confidentiality and HIPAA, correct? Whatever I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else?”
The werewolf tilted his head, studying her carefully.
“Within certain limits,” he said, and explained those limits.
For the doctor to truly help her, she needed to tell him about her nosebleeds and nausea.
Not just explain the symptoms, but specify what was causing her such physical upheaval.
Which would mean telling him about her pregnancy—and also the newfound power of her recent visions.
Even though any outsider knowledge of the latter could prove highly dangerous.
From what he was saying, however, physician-patient privilege wouldn’t allow him to share that knowledge. No matter what questions various officials or conspirators might ask him.
“Thank you for explaining.” With his help, she heaved herself onto the exam table and lay down gratefully. “In that case, let me tell you everything that’s been happening.”
Everything not involving either zombies or conspiracies, anyway. Hopefully that would be enough.