* * *
I sit up in the hospital bed and seethe. It’s been an entire day since the cops came, and the doctor hasn’t been in to check on me once. It’s been nurses and nothing else. I have to get out of here.
The questioning the night before didn’t help allay any of my fears. In fact, it seems that I’m missing some things. I can’t remember how I wound up in the warehouse, or even where it is. I have no friggin’ clue as to who would have done this.
There might be a list, one which I’ve given to the cops – all the corrupt politicians and assholes I’ve researched recently – but I can’t pick one. They’ll have to follow leads, and that’s super frustrating for me.
The door to the ward swings inward and Isaac appears.
All the anger and frustration saps out of me, and my shoulders relax. It’s good to see him. He’s a center point in my foggy, head throbbing world, right now. Behind him, is a person I’m less amped to see.
Doctor Sattler strolls into the ward, carrying her clipboard and disdain. “Good morning, Miss Smith. How are you feeling?”
“Perfect. Just great. Can I go now?”
She wriggles her nose. Isaac pulls a face behind her back and I clamp my lips together to keep from laughing.
“That remains to be seen. I’ll run some quick tests to see if you’re stable enough to be discharged.”
“Thank you so much,” Isaac says, his voice the pinnacle of gracious gratitude, funny faces hidden, now.
I want to grin, but my head hurts too much. The doctor approaches and begins examining me, running a light past my eyes for me to follow, testing my reflexes. She asks me a series of questions, and I bullshit my way through them. The truth is, I still feel like complete garbage but I know hospital beds are expensive, and this woman has clearly been in the game for a long time. If someone wants to leave the expensive room, there’s no reason to stop them.
“You’re lucky, considering,” the doctor says. “It would seem that you’ve only sustained mild injuries from the fire.”
As she talks, she begins removing the wires from my skin, freeing me from my hospital prison.
“You’ll likely experience some vertigo from the loss of consciousness as well as the damage to your head. Try to take it easy over the next couple of weeks. Do you feel any dizziness now?”
My head has been spinning since I woke up. The only thing solid in this whole world is Isaac, and I don’t even know if I can trust him. What if he was the one trying to kill me? Dare I rely him to bring me home?
As soon as the thought arrives, I dismiss it. Something in me trusts the man, and I’ve always had good instincts.
Well, most of the time. I think.
“Nope, I feel great,” I say through clenched teeth, forcing a smile.
It’s obvious that neither the doctor nor Isaac are convinced by my paltry display but I hardly care. I will do whatever it takes to get out of this hospital and onto the trail of whoever put me here. Take it easy, my ass. I’ve got work to do.
The doctor stands, finally stepping toward the door.
“Your voice will be hoarse for a little while as your throat heals. Try not to overdo it. I’ll go get your release paperwork and then you’re free to go.”
If I wasn’t in so much pain, I would cheer. Instead, I nod.
“Thanks.”
She makes no effort to show that she heard me as she walks from the room, leaving me alone with Isaac once again. I turn to look at him. Somehow, in the few minutes I wasn’t looking at him, he got more attractive. Was he always that… muscular?
“You don’t need to bring me home.”
“Nonsense. I have a car, you’re clearly not in any condition to get home alone, and it’s actually convenient for me. I’m headed that way already.”
“Hmm,” I say, noncommittal.
It occurs to me in this moment that I have no idea where my clothes are. My eyes scan the room, and, seemingly reading my mind, he stands, towering as he walks to a closet and opens it, pulling out a pair of clothes that aren’t mine.
“The firehouse keeps spare clothing, just in case,” he says, like that explains everything.
I take the proffered clothing and stare at him, waiting for him to give me some privacy. As much as I’d love to show him my ass hanging out of the back of my hospital gown, it sounds a little less than glamourous. He takes the cue, stepping out into the hallway to give me a moment to dress. I make quick work of it, shoving my arms into a tank top, then a baggy sweater, silken boxers, way too loose, and a pair of sweatpants… not exactly my style.
Still better than nothing.
The door opens, and a man with a wheelchair enters and gestures for me to take a seat.
I glare at him. I am not that delicate flower.
“Ma’am, I’m here to escort you out of the building,” the guy says.
“I can walk just fine on my own.”
“Ma’am, it’s hospital procedure to –”
I huff, but settle into the chair. Whatever will get me out of here sooner. The guy wheels me out and Isaac falls in at my side. He doesn’t mention my new mode of transport, thank God. We reach the sliding doors, and the doctor reappears, a nurse appears, with her clipboard and discharge papers in hand.
A couple of signatures and wincing smiles later, I’m good to go. The wheelchair dude pushes me out into the world.
Isaac halts beside me and places a hand on my shoulder. “I didn’t think to bring an extra coat. Would you like mine?” he asks.
I can’t answer. Outside, a fresh coat of snow covers the parking lot, the sky dark gray and cold. I glance over at the security guard’s desk, where a calendar is set to the month of December.
Which is impossible, because before I woke up, it was definitely August.