Chapter Sixteen
Nathalie
There’s something wrong with me.
I can’t sleep.
This time I don’t have an excuse. Fisher is out of town. His bed is more comfortable than the one in my apartment, and the bedding makes it feel like a cloud. I should be able to close my eyes and get lost in dreamland, but I can’t.
He broke me.
It’s around four in the morning when my phone buzzes.
Fisher: Are you awake?
Nathalie: Did you text me to see if I’m awake? Are you kidding?
Fisher: I take that as a yes?
Nathalie: Have I mentioned how much I hate you?
I truly do.
Fisher: Not lately. It’s good to know that your feelings for me haven’t changed. It makes coming home worth it.
Nathalie: I don’t understand your sarcasm.
Fisher: It’s the pills talking. Do you have a thread and needle to stitch up a wound?
Nathalie: Are you drunk?
Fisher: Nope. I have my sewing kit at home if that helps.
Nathalie: Never use cotton material for wounds. It’ll grow bacteria. I do have my suture kit in my medical bag.
Fisher: Is it with you?
Nathalie: Yes. I always carry it with me.
Fisher: See you soon, gorgeous.
I read the exchange three more times before there’s a chime announcing that the main door is open.
“Hottie, I’m home.”
I make my way downstairs. Manelik is helping Fisher walk toward the kitchen.
“You’ve been gone for three days and you come home drunk, texting gibberish?”
He turns around and grins. His eyes can’t focus on one thing. “You’re so pretty. All of you.”
“How long did this party last?”
That stupid grin never leaves his face. “You missed me.” He lifts his shirt and asks, “Can you fix this?”
I finally notice that there’s blood on the side of his torso. It’s not bad, but he has a wound big enough that it requires some stitches. “What happened?”
Mane hands me a tablet. “Would you mind signing this before we continue?”
I glance at it and shake my head. “An NDA? Can you people be more…I’m not sure how to describe you.”
He rolls his eyes. “Never try to describe us. We’re too complicated. Listen, he’s bleeding, and I need you to stitch him up. Is that possible?”
I walk toward the couch where I have my bag. “Bring him over.”
“You need to sign the document before I let you do anything to him.”
I glare at him as I pull out my surgical gloves. “I’ll think about doing it after I finish stitching him up. Did he lose blood?”
Manelik helps Fisher walk toward the living room. I take off his shirt and gently lay him on his right side. The wound isn’t deep. I doubt it punctured part of his intestines, but… “He could have internal bleeding. Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?”
“Other than he’s a stubborn idiot and I need to go home? I talked to the doctor on call, and since there wasn’t much bleeding, he said it only needed a few stitches. It’s already clean. I know first-aid. Trained as an EMT a few years ago.”
I glare at Manelik. There’s a lot more behind that explanation, but I’m not going to bother asking questions he’s not going to answer.
“Date of your last tetanus shot, Fisher?”
“It was when we were in…Mane?”
“Four years ago,” Manelik answers
“You know that how?”
“We all got it,” he answers.
I stare at him suspiciously for a couple of seconds before I get to work. After I finish, I put on a bandage. “I’ll check it tomorrow morning. I have to prescribe him antibiotics. Can someone go to the pharmacy in Silverthorne Bay to pick them up?”
Manelik hands me his phone. “Can you call the prescription into this pharmacy in Seattle? I’ll get someone to bring it in a few hours.”
“If I had a computer, I could do it electronically. This is like living in a bad sixties movie. We don’t have many resources. You’re Al Capone, and I’m just an accessory to your illegal trafficking of…ugh.”
“Isn’t she pretty when she’s angry?” Fisher asks as he moves into a sitting position.
I scrunch my nose. He smells like alcohol. “What did you give him for the pain? A distillery?”
“Tequila and ibuprofen.”
I roll my eyes. “Men.”
“Well, Doc, if you can sign that NDA tomorrow morning, I’ll appreciate it. For now, I’m going home to my woman.”
“Are you going to leave him alone?”
Manelik looks at me, concerned. “He’s with you. Why should I worry?”
“I’m not going to take care of him,” I call after him as he makes his way toward the door.
“You’re going to leave him alone?” He gives me a disapproving look before exiting the house.
He left me with Fisher. Not only Fisher Hannigan—drunk Fisher Hannigan.
What the fuck?
“Are you going to kiss it better, Dr. Hottie?” He points at his wound.
I lift my finger. “Behave, or I’ll leave you bleeding to death.”
He lifts his hands in surrender and flinches. “It hurts too fucking much.”
“What happened? I have the right to learn how you got hurt.”
“I’m drunk, not stupid. I can’t tell you,” he mumbles. “In any case, it’s best if you don’t know.”
“You should go to the hospital.”
He brushes the hair out of my face. “You’re prettier when you’re not angry at me.”
“You never stop flirting, do you?”
“You never take a compliment, do you?” He leans closer and kisses me on the cheek. “Why don’t you go to sleep?”
“Someone has to take care of you.”
“I can do that,” he assures me. “No one takes care of me when I’m wounded.”
“Does this happen often?”
He shakes his head. “A time or two a year.”
I caress his face. “What are your secrets?”
He takes my hand and kisses it. “There are too many and too dark for someone so innocent like you. Let’s go to bed.”
“I’m not sleeping with you, Fisher.”
“Promise to be a good boy, Doc.”
His bed is big enough that even if he tries anything, I’ll have a barrier of pillows between us and he won’t be able to do much. I won’t lie, though. I would very much like for him to do plenty.
“Fine, but don’t think that I like you.”
“I wouldn’t dare. You still hate me.” He smirks, and my insides melt. If he wasn’t him, maybe I’d give it a taste.
Chapter Seventeen
Fisher
I spend two days in bed.
I wish I could say that Nathalie plays nurse both days, but she doesn’t. Lang sends a nurse to take care of me. She’s nice and old enough to be my grandmother. On the third day, I feel well enough to go back to work. Nurse Virginia reminds me to check in with the doctor before leaving the house.