“Hi.”
She gave me a kind smile. “You’ve been through the wringer tonight, haven’t you?”
“It hasn’t been one of my favorite evenings.”
She chuckled and moved to the side of my bed. “Well, let’s see if we can get you feeling better.” A man in scrubs stepped through the curtains. “This is Nurse Joe. He’ll be helping me out. Is that okay with you?”
I realized she was asking because I’d been attacked, and the knowledge of what could’ve happened tonight made me shudder. “It’s fine. As long as he has access to the good drugs.”
Nurse Joe chuckled. “Honey, I’ve got you covered.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Dr. Balicanta slipped on gloves and carefully peeled back the gauze near my temple. “Joe, can you get me a suture kit? I’m afraid this is going to need a few stitches. Luckily, I aced my plastic surgery rotation, so I think I can get you through it without a scar.”
A scar was the least of my worries. “Whatever gets it to stop bleeding.”
“I’m agreed with you there.” She probed the wound a bit, and I winced. “Pain on a scale of one to ten?”
“I don’t know…seven?”
“Okay. I’m going to shine a light in your eyes, and it might not feel fun.” She plucked a penlight from her coat and aimed it at me. I squinted but did my best not to let out a moan. “Painful?”
“Not a trip to Disneyland.”
“I like her,” Joe said as he set something on a tray next to Dr. Balicanta.
“If you’ve won Joe over, that means you’re a good egg,” she said. “You’ve got a mild concussion. I’m going to send you for a CT scan, just to be safe, but I think you’ll be feeling better in a few days. Do you have pain anywhere but your head?”
I did a mental inventory. “My side.”
“Let’s have a look.” Dr. Balicanta pulled down the blanket. “Just roll onto your side.” I did as she asked, and she lifted my scrub top. “Ouch.”
Angry scrapes and blooming bruises looked back at me. “Not exactly pretty.”
“Joe, can I get antiseptic, ointment, and some bandages?”
“You got it, boss.”
She ripped open a gauze pad and poured something onto it. “This is going to sting, but I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
“I can handle it.” Pain was something I’d learned to live with as a child, and that had stuck with me—a handy by-product.
The doctor moved swiftly, and I simply focused on my breathing. The ointment soothed away the sting the antiseptic left behind, and soon, Dr. Balicanta was taping off a large bandage. “All done with that portion of events.”
I rolled to my back. “Thank you.”
“Let’s see if you’re still thanking me when I do these stitches.” She moved with practiced ease as she readied her tools. “Ready for a little pinch?”
“Sure.” Pain was one thing, but I’d never been a fan of needles. What other choice did I have, though?
Joe moved to the other side of the bed. “Here. Squeeze my hand. It helps.”
I took his offered hand. It wasn’t as rough or warm as Hayes’, but it was comforting. And the kindness of the gesture had that burn returning to my throat. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
Dr. Balicanta readied the syringe. “Here we go.”
I kept my eyes closed as she worked. I mentally reviewed all the bones in a cat. The symptoms of diabetes in a dog. Anything I could think of to keep my mind off the needle in my flesh.
“We’re all done. I just need to cover the sutures. And Joe will print out aftercare instructions while you’re getting your scans.”
I slowly released Joe’s hand, heat rising to my cheeks. “Thanks for that.”
He sent me a wink. “Any excuse to hold a pretty girl’s hand.”
Dr. Balicanta chuckled. “I’ll be back as soon as we get your results, and then we can get you some painkillers.”
Anything to dull the pounding in my head would be a miracle at this point. I didn’t have to wait as long as expected. An orderly came in moments later, and the scan itself went quickly. I guessed that was the benefit of coming in after ten on a weeknight.
“Knock, knock,” Dr. Balicanta said as she pulled back the curtain. “Everything looks good. Since you have a concussion, we can keep you overnight, or you can go home if you have someone who can stay with you and wake you up every three hours.”
The burn was back, and it was fiercer than before. The last thing I wanted to do was stay here tonight. I wanted real sleep. “I guess I’ll have to stay. I don’t have anyone to come get me—” The curtain being pulled back cut off my words, and then Hayes appeared. “W-what are you doing here?”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I figured you’d need someone to take you home.”
Dr. Balicanta’s eyes held a twinkle when she spoke. “Can you stay with her tonight? Everly will need to be woken up every three hours and asked simple questions since she has a concussion. If she seems confused or her pain worsens, you’ll need to bring her back. But I’m about to give her a painkiller and a prescription that should help.”
“It’s okay. I can just stay here.”
“No. You’ll stay with me.”
I couldn’t help the scowl that rose to my lips. “Will I now?”
He took the papers the doctor handed him and turned to me. “Do you really want to stay here and be woken up every hour to have your vitals taken? Or would you rather suck it up and sleep in my guest room for the night?”
I really didn’t want to stay here. “Fine.”
“Or, you could say ‘Thank you.’”
“Thank you,” I gritted out.
Joe peeked his head in. “I couldn’t help but overhear. You two are like a soap opera.” Hayes glared at Joe, but he simply ignored it and handed me a bag. “Had this filled at the pharmacy for you. Take care of yourself, doll.”
“I’ll try. Thanks for holding my hand.”
“Anything for you,” he said with a wink and bustled out. Hayes’ glare intensified.
Dr. Balicanta cleared her throat, but it sounded more like she was trying to cover a laugh. “Well, now that that’s settled, all I need is for you to sign these discharge papers while I give you a dose of these meds through the IV.”
I signed while Dr. Balicanta gave me the drugs. After a couple of minutes, she took out my IV, giving me another of her kind smiles. “Take care of yourself and come back if you have any concerns.”
“Thanks again. For everything.”
She patted my leg through the blanket. “Thanks for being a trooper.”
The drugs were already making their way through my system, and I started to feel as if I were floating just a bit. Hayes moved to my side. “Think you can sit up?”
“I might need a little help there.”
“I got ya.” He moved smoothly and gently, one hand going behind my shoulders and the other taking my hand. He guided me to a sitting position. “Think you need a wheelchair?”