When I wake up I flinch away from the bright lights.
“Great,” I mutter. Hospital lights. I really hate hospitals.
“Sorry,” Shayne whines. “The paramedics insisted.”
“I want to go home,” I protest.
“Tell that to the nurse,” he mutters.
“I intend to,” I say bitterly.
“It’s only for a few hours,” he tells me.
“How long was I out?” I ask.
He bites his lip.
“Shayne!”
“About two days,” he says quietly.
“Two what? It was just a bullet!” I squeal.
“You blacked out and they kept you out. Said you needed to rest,” he winces.
“Where’s my mum?” I glance around the small, private room.
“Umm, your parents don’t know,” he admits.
“Shayne!”
“Luca’s idea,” he says defensively.
“Ugh!”
“But on the bright side, the Doctor’s said you could keep the bullet. They even put it in a jar for you.”
I stare at him. “I don’t want the bullet you moron! I want my mum!” I howl.
“I was joking. Well, actually they did say that. But I was joking about the jar,” he stutters, looking nervous.
I sigh. “Are you okay?”
“Me? You’re the one in a hospital. I can’t believe I let this happen,” he moans, running his hands through his hair.
“Shayne, sweetie, you couldn’t have stopped the bullet even if you knew it was going to hit me,” I tell him, rubbing his shoulder.
“But you’re my responsibility.”
“I’m my responsibility,” I correct him.
“No. You’re my fiancée. It’s my job to look after you,” he sighs.
“No, it’s your job to look after other people. You caught the guy, now knock it off.” I frown.
“You’ve been spending too much time with your Fed,” he chuckles.
“My fed?”
“Nick,” he prompts.
“Did you take a hit to the head?” I ask him, tapping the side of his head lightly.
“Actually, yes. But that’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
“Knock it off…it’s an American phrase,” he says.
“I don’t think Nick’s ever said that,” I muse.
“He says that all the time. It drives me crazy,” he mutters.
“Can I just go home? Please?” I ask.
“I’ll get the Doctor,” he says, smiling as he waltzes out of the door. Within seconds of his departure the door swings open and a familiar Fed with chestnut-coloured curls and a cheeky grin steps into the room.
“Hey kiddo,” he says casually, dropping a whiskey kiss on my forehead. “How you feeling?”
“I glance down at my leg. “Broken.”
“No kidding,” he mutters, sitting down in the chair next to me, swinging his feet up onto my bed.
“I’m so confused,” I admit.
“Talk to me,” he says calmly, taking my hand.
“It’s been, like, less than a week but so much has changed. I…I have no home, no car, my granddad’s trying to get me killed, I’ve been in a car crash and a shoot out and I’m engaged,” I say in a rush.
“You forgot to mention joining a highly secretive government agency,” he says.
“Right, yeah. I just want everything to go back to the way they were,” I moan.
“But then you wouldn’t be with Shayne,” Nick reminds me.
I sigh. “I know. I guess at least something good came from this.”
“Something great,” Nick corrects me.
“Something really great,” I smile.
“Good to know,” Shayne says, smiling down at me as he comes into the room.
“Hey,” I mutter.
“Up you get, we’re going home,” he says, ushering me into a wheelchair.
“I don’t want a wheelchair.” I wrinkle my nose up in disgust.
He swats me gently over my head. “Get used to it.”
“Yuck. I feel like an invalid,” I complain.
“Your parents are at mine, we’re going to tell them, okay?” He says as he wheels me out of the room.
“Sure,” I mutter.
** This story is bugging me... When I've finished LwtLB I think I'll edit this one completely. **
