Luke
I woke up back in the hospital bed where I’d been lying for the last week. The doctor was there, a humorless little fucker with thick glasses and cold hands named Shively. He was shining a fucking bright light in my eyes and asking if I knew my name.
“My name is get that fucking light out of my eyes,” I said, trying to wave him away with a hand that wasn’t quite working right. I heard him say something to the old nurse who had walked in on me boning the young thing. She was on the other side of the bed, changing the dressing over the gash in my side. Obviously, the woman had no comprehension of the concept of being gentle. She was poking and prodding me with the finesse of a goddamn one-armed butcher.
“You can’t get out of bed without assistance, Mr. Daniels,” the doctor said, sliding the pin light into the front pocket of his white lab coat. He leaned over my belly and poked his fingers around the wound. Lightning bolts of pain shot through me and almost made me jump off the bed.
“Fuck, man,” I said, leaning my head up to glare at him. “Get your fucking fingers out of there.”
“You busted your stitches,” the nurse growled as she finished redressing the wound. She had one of those deep husky man voices like she’d been smoking cigarettes and drinking rotgut whiskey all her life.
I made the mistake of glancing into her eyes. She was still pissed at me, but I thought I saw something else there, maybe a little spark of lust, given that she did help get me back into bed with my sticky pecker hanging out. It probably just took one good look at it to melt all the rust off her old cooch.
Jesus, I hoped she didn’t come back later wanting to ride my knobby pony. She was a big old girl with dark hair on her upper lip. If she climbed on top of me it’d probably kill me. Then again, I’ve stuck my cock into bigger, uglier women, but that was always late at night after getting a snoot full of booze. Funny, how your standards drop the later at night it gets.
I’ll be honest with you, fellas. I’ve woken up with some coyote ugly women in my days. I call them coyote ugly because I was like a coyote with its leg caught in a trap. A coyote will gnaw off its own leg to get out of a trap. If a coyote ugly woman was laying on my arm, I would have gnawed it off to get the fuck away from her.
“Can you give us a few minutes, nurse,” the doctor said, nodding toward the door. The nurse huffed at me and gathered up the stained bandages and carried them out the door.
The doctor stuck his pudgy fingers under his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He blew out a long sigh and shook his head at me. “Mr. Daniels, I’m going to tell you once more. You cannot get out of that bed without someone helping you.”
“I had help getting up,” I said, smiling through the pain. “And I had help getting off.”
He cleared his throat and shook his head again. “You do realize that you probably cost that girl her job.”
I winced as I brought my hands up behind my head. “Oh come on, doc. They ain’t gonna fire that girl just because we were having a little game of hide the sausage in the bathroom.”
“You’re wrong,” he said. He took off the glasses and cleaned them on his tie. “Nurse Pritchett is on her way to human resources right now to file a complaint. At the very least, the girl will be suspended for a week or two without pay. At worst, she will be fired without references.” He set the glasses on his nose and glared at me through them. “So, I hope you’re happy with yourself. I hope it was worth it.”
I grinned at him. “Jesus, doc, did you see that little girl? Big old tits, big old ass, pussy tighter than Dick’s hatband. Of course, it was worth it.”
He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at me. “You really are an asshole, Mr. Daniels.”
I held out my hands and smiled. “Guilty as charged, doc,” I said. “Guilty as charged. Now, cut the shit and tell me when I can get the fuck out of this place. I’m starting to get bed sores lying here.”
“You had massive internal injuries where that bull gored you,” the doctor said. “And you just busted your stitches. You’re not going anywhere for at least another week.”
I pushed myself up on my elbows to shoot him a hard look. It hurt like a sumbitch, but I wasn’t gonna let him know it. “Doc, you either sign my fucking release papers or I’ll walk out of here on my own.”
He folded his arms across his chest and huffed at me. “You wouldn’t make it half a block before you collapsed and bled to death.”
I nodded at the window. “I’d rather die on the sidewalk out there than die in this bed in here.” I locked onto his eyes so he would know that I was not fucking around. “I can’t spend another week in this bed. I’m not cut out to be a fucking patient. I make my living on the backs of bulls and broncos. Every minute I lay here I can feel my body dying. I need out of here, doc. I need out of here now.”
He blew out a long breath and held out his hands. “Fine, I can release you in two days if you have someone who can at least look after you for a week or two, just in case you do something stupid and bust those stitches again.” He wiggled a finger at me. “Seriously, Mr. Daniels, if you bust those stitches again you could get a serious infection or even bleed to death.”
“I’ll be careful, doc,” I said, falling back on the pillow. “My pal Cody said I could stay at his place until I was all mended up.”
“Okay, then I’ll release you in two days.” He had my chart under his arm. He flipped it open and scribbled something on a page.
“Fine,” I said, closing my eyes. Without warning, a sharp pain shot up my left side and crashed into my brain. Fireworks started going off in front of my eyes. I felt a cold sweat wash across my face. My stomach started churning like a cement mixer. For a moment, I thought I was going to hurl chunks in the air.
The doc glanced at me from over the chart. He saw the color draining from my face and the sweat dotting my forehead. He gave me a smug look but didn’t move to help. He tapped the medical chart on the foot of the bed. “See, this is what I was talking about. You need to stay here.”
“Fuck you,” I said, gritting my teeth at him. “I’m getting out of here in two days, with or without your approval.”
“Okay, Mr. Daniels,” he said, moving toward the door. “It’s your funeral.”
“Fucking A right it is.” I managed to stay awake long enough for him to leave the room, then my head started to swim and I passed out dead to the world.