Whiskey & Vows

T H I R T Y F O U R

T H I R T Y   F O U R

"Explain to me how this happened." Derek frowned, scratching his neck. Smiling sheepishly at him, I sat on the creepy steps back stage and coddled my ankle. The managers backstage tried to keep from laughing as I tumbled down the steps from my performance. Luckily, the stairs were hidden from the rest of the audience. There's no way I could handle that.

"I fell." I winced.

"Clearly." He answered dryly, taking in the sight of my large heels and my now awkwardly bent leg. Crouching down, he looked at my ankle and grimaced.

"Do you think you broke it?"

"It hurts like a bitch," I grunted. Pressing his lips into a flat line, he slowly unzipped the heel. Holding my breath, I watched in horror as my swollen ankle came into view.

"Holy shit." Derek gasped. Frowning, I looked at my ankle.

"You think I broke it?"

"I think you almost cracked off your foot." Glaring, I crossed my arms over my chest. Looking at me carefully, Derek slowly stood up.

"I'm going to carry you to the car." He said, handing me my heel.

"You can't do that! They'll think I'm drunk!"

"Who cares?" He groaned. "Anna, I need to take you to the emergency room."

Fuck that.

"We can ice it at home." I smiled, trying to ignore the shooting pain. Derek, looking sexy as ever, pursed out his lips and gave me a serious look.

"It wasn't an option." I could feel them looking at me backstage and I tried to ignore the stage crew.

"I don't want to go there!" I groaned. "I feel like we're there all the time!" Unfortunately, it was true. Andy's appointments, seeing my father, and even seeing Joel there resulted in too many hours at the hospital.

It drove me insane.

Instead of listening to me, he swept me up in his arms and carried me out of the bar.

I didn't even get a drink.

***

"I shouldn't see you as much as I do." Dr. Wilson grinned as I sat on the bed. Glaring at Derek, I prayed Dr. Wilson would hit on me as his punishment.

"You're telling me." Derek muttered. Ignoring him, I smiled politely at Dr. Wilson.

"Can you tell him it's just bruised?" Smiling, he looked down at my foot.

"Unfortunately, I can't." He smiled. "I'm going to have to get an X-ray to see what you broke, but first I want to run some blood tests.

"Why?" Derek asked. Rolling my eyes, I watched as he immediately jumped to my side.

"There's nothing wrong with me." I groaned. Grinning at the two of us, he shook his head.

"You look dehydrated and pale. Are you feeling alright?"

"Irritated, but yeah." Narrowing his eyes at me, Derek gritted his teeth.

"What could be wrong with her?" He asked worriedly. Rolling my eyes at his concern, I glared at the men.

"Might just be a cold, but her coloring looks off and even though you've been in a bar, you have no alcohol in your system." Shrugging, he flipped my chart closed. "Let me just make sure you're as fine as you say you are." Derek smiled politely at him as he left and for once, I was extremely annoyed in Dr. Wilson's behavior.