Trigger

Trigger: Chapter 25

Watts nodded then shifted his gaze toward me.

"I'm sorry, by the way. I was only concerned about your safety," he apologized.

"It's no problem," I assured with a small smile.

"Hey, are you okay? We should really get going. You look really pale and-"

"Melinda!" I heard Ayden's voice call out and arms wrap around me just before everything went black.

***

"Don't worry about that now. She's fine," I heard Mick's voice promise. "Just hold still, damn it!"

I smiled to myself. It seemed those two were always arguing about one thing or another. Yawning, I pried my eyes open and glanced around. Blinking a few times, I recognized that I was in the bed in Cole's room. Ayden sat on the edge of the big wooden desk by the window while Mick placed himself on a chair facing Ayden's back and working on his wounds. He pulled a small desk lamp over and positioned it to illuminate Ayden's back. I could see the gash from here – a bloody mess of torn flesh. It almost looked as if he'd been burned in some places. Ayden twisted slightly to try to look in my direction. Mick responded with a quick slap across the back of his head.

"I need you to sit still! You know this is one of the worst injuries you've ever gotten. I don't even know how long it will take you to heal," Mick grumbled.

"I'm fine," Ayden whined, trying to push off the desk then stumbling slightly.

"Sit. You lost even more blood than Melinda and your body isn't used to being so vulnerable. You're weak right now and what you need to do is let me finish patching you so you can go lay down and rest."

"She's awake," Ayden pointed out calmly.

I pushed myself to sit upright with a smile. Mick moved his gaze from Ayden to me with a sigh of relief.

"Thank God you're okay," he breathed.

With Mick no longer nagging him, Ayden continued on his path toward the bed. Plopping down beside me, his face read concern. Still silent, he reached for the blanket, peeling it back to reveal my bandaged stomach. He flicked his eyes up to meet mine, lips pressed to a tight line.

"It's not your fault," I mumbled before he spoke.

"No, it wasn't," he agreed, though I could see the truth in his crooked smile. "It was Mick's."

Mick scoffed from his place by the desk. He leaned forward to rest his elbow on his knee. A pair of small glasses sat toward the tip of his nose.

"Oh, yeah, everyone just blame the medic!"

The door suddenly busted open and Cole waltzed in followed by Giselle. Dropping a bag on the desk, he patted Mick on the shoulder before making his way toward me and Ayden.

"Our two little wounded soldiers," he muttered almost proudly as he looked us over. "Cathan and his men retreated. You should be happy to hear we suffered only a minimal amount of injuries and no casualties thanks to our two medics over there," he informed, gesturing toward Giselle and Mick.

"All the trainees also performed well," Giselle added. She then noticed Ayden's back and roughly shoved Mick's shoulder. "You didn't patch him up yet? Even with accelerated healing, you need to mend the wound first – you know that."

Mick rolled his eyes, plucking his glasses from his nose and running his hands through his hair. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed.

"You act like I haven't been trying. The damn bastard wouldn't sit still long enough," he explained with frustration. "It's a pretty severe wound. It's taken several layers of repair already. Even with," he paused, "special accelerated healing, he seems to be healing at a fairly slow pace. Well, I suppose I should call it a fairy normal pace."