“You haven’t changed much since we first met. Talking too much when you would be better served keeping your mouth shut.”
“You’re trying to get on my bad side again,” I said with a small grin.
He reached the top of the stairs, breathing heavily. “You’re injured and need to reserve your energy. Keep still, don’t speak, and your mother-in-law will be back soon. Which is your room?”
After a silent beat, his eyes darted down at me.
“You told me not to speak.”
“Such an insolent woman.” He moved down the hall and peered into the open rooms. “How about the one with the model airplanes? That looks like you and would explain what you’ve been doing for all these years instead of making babies.”
“Keep going. To the left. I’m going to forget you said that, but Santa won’t. He keeps a list,” I muttered, hoping humor would distract me from the pain.
The feel of my soft bed against my back was divine—something I’d taken for granted all these years. I never realized how much I loved home until I smelled my house, felt the familiarity of my sheets, and took comfort in seeing all my memories scattered about the room. A home is an extension of a person, and my home was family, love, and laughter.
Lorenzo returned with a wet towel.
“What are you going to do with that?”
“I don’t know,” he said, looking down at it. “I thought you might need it.”
The poor man looked conflicted, and it made me wonder if he was even in the house when Ivy had given birth.
I touched my shoulder. “Has the bleeding stopped?”
He withdrew the soaked material they’d used to bandage me and ripped the hole in my shirt wider. “It’s still weeping. I can’t use my healing magic while the bullet is still in your body. We’ll have to wait for the Relic. If he doesn’t come, then…”
“Then what?”
He stood up straight and pinched his chin. “Then I’ll need a really long spoon.”
“You have a terrible sense of humor.”
The front door slammed, and heavy footsteps barreled up the stairs until they found the open door.
Edward breezed into the room and dropped his bag on a chair. “I came as soon as I heard.”
A look of relief swam across Lorenzo’s face, and he backed up like a deer retreating from a predator.
My Relic briefly examined my chest before retrieving a pair of scissors from his bag and slicing my shirt straight down the center.
“You can leave now, Mr. Church,” he said, not taking his eyes off my wound. “Looks like a large bullet. Did it exit?”
“No. I think it’s lodged in my shoulder behind my back.”
He cut away my bra and then reached around with his fingers, pressing my back until I winced. “Yes, there it is.”
Having a professional put me at ease, especially seeing how adept and confident he was. Edward placed a cold stethoscope against my chest and asked me to take in a few breaths.
“Well?” I asked. “What’s the diagnosis?”
“You’ve been shot, and you’re having a baby,” he said, his voice deadpan.
It made me smile to see he had a sense of humor after all.
Edward placed his stethoscope on the nightstand. “I can’t know for certain without X-rays, but I think you have a collapsed lung. Is there pain?”
“Yeah, but I thought it was from the gunshot.”
He bit his lip and averted his eyes.
That scared me. The last thing you want your doctor to do is look worried.
“I’m going to insert a chest tube to relieve the pressure, and it’s a painful procedure. If we don’t do something about it now, it’ll become harder for you to breathe.” He opened his large bag. “Let’s try it first with a needle.”
My eyes widened. “That’s a big fucking needle!”
“The good news is I don’t hear any fluid in there, but you have air in your chest cavity that’s putting pressure on your lung. We need to release some of that air so you can be comfortable. Let me clean you up a little before we begin.” He wiped down the site with a cold antiseptic.
I turned my head and searched for something to focus on—something that would take me to another place where I didn’t have any worries. I centered my gaze on a miniature vase on the dresser with a green sucker sticking out. It was a keepsake from a candy bouquet Austin had given me a million years ago when we stayed our first night in this house. It reminded me of a simpler time when the only thing that mattered was how much I loved him.
Edward bandaged my gunshot wound and pressed his fingers around my chest, searching for a spot for that big-ass needle. I kept my eyes focused on the green sucker as the cold antiseptic circled around one spot.
“You’re going to feel some pressure,” he said.
He wasn’t lying. Just then, I got a contraction that was powerful enough that I didn’t focus on the needle going in. I pulled my legs up and closed my eyes.
“Just one more minute while I attach the valve.”
I heard a quiet hissing noise and felt the pressure in my chest leaving, allowing me to breathe easier.