T H I R T Y - F I V E
The ringing in my ears and fluorescent lighting hitting my closed eyes roused me awake.
My eyelids felt heavy, my head pounding as though I had gotten hit.
Which I probably had.
I didn't need to be fully awake to know I was in a hospital bed, the smell of the sterile room making my stomach turn.
"Sedated beauty is finally awake."
A familiar voice echoed through the room.
Someone else cleared their throat, "I think we should be a little more professional Dr. Hughes."
"No thanks. Jakob needing to be sedated because he's too loud will never not be funny Dr. Liu."
Oscar's voice sounded as though it was coming from a completely different room, the sound of the heart monitor blaringly loud right next to my ear.
I tried to shift, my body feeling like lead.
"No need to move too much Mr. Laurent," the unfamiliar voice tutted, "Just your eyes is fine."
As though that wasn't what I was trying to do.
With great difficulty, I pried open my eyes, feeling as though they had been glued shut.
I blinked, trying to get used to the light.
"Nice of you to join us," Oscar's voice sounded muffled, but I could still hear the teasing lilt in it.
I opened my mouth; I had been in this exact same situation enough times to know that speaking would be difficult.
I tried anyway.
"What happened?" my throat felt like sandpaper, my voice barely loud enough for them to hear.
Oscar rolled his eyes, "You got shot."
He paused and then smirked, "And you also got beat up."
The other doctor gave him a side-eye before clearing his throat, "Good evening Mr. Laurent, I'm Dr. Liu. I treated your gunshot wound. It wasn't anything of great concern, more of a graze. The rest of your injuries are the major cause for any soreness and pain you feel at this time."
He looked down at the file in his hand, "You seem to have hit your head at some point, as well as a few other bodily injuries. Rest and painkillers is what I'm prescribing. No heavy lifting, no pressure on any injuries. If you begin to feel confused at any point, that could be a concussion, so please notify someone immediately."
He cleared his throat again, looking at Oscar and then at me, "I'll be taking my leave now."
I had barely registered half of the words he had said, my head pounding too much to even nod in thanks.
The door clicked to a close behind him, and Oscar stepped forwards, eyeing me.
I slowly lifted my hand to feel the stitches on my eyebrow.
I winced, "How bad is it?"
My voice was practically a croak.
Oscar shrugged, "You've been hurt worse before, nothing major."
He stared at my face for a second before grimacing, "You haven't been so outwardly bruised like this before though."
I swore under my breath.
YOU ARE READING
Jakob Laurent was an intensely quiet, no-nonsense type of man. Callan Grant was a sweet, slightly eccentric, small-business owner. ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ Callan needed to take some extra security precautions, but she could have never predicted that it would co...