Mac watched with concern as they converged on her, sure someone would try to make him leave. He prepared himself to take control of their minds and prevent it if necessary. He wasn’t leaving CJ. She was his life mate. If worse came to worst and it looked like her life was in danger, he would turn her on the spot. Without her permission. That was something that was considered a no-no to his kind except in emergency situations, but if this head wound proved to be life-threatening, it would pass the emergency situation requirements. Actually, it would almost be a relief if he had to, Mac acknowledged. He would have to explain everything to her much more swiftly, of course, but once she was turned it would be easier to claim her as his life mate.
He’d barely had the thought when he heard the doctor say, “She’s regaining consciousness.”
“Understand, Ms. Cummings. I don’t approve of this at all. I really think you should stay overnight for observation,” the gentleman whose name tag read Dr. Pearson said firmly.
“I understand.” CJ shrugged out of the gown they’d urged her into when she’d first woken up, and pulled on her blouse in its place. She’d stripped for so many doctors over the last three and a half years she felt no discomfort at all standing around in only her panties and bra in front of this one and the nurse with him. “But you’ve done tests and scans, and even an MRI for heaven’s sake, and found nothing wrong. I’m sure I’m fine, but I’ll return if I have any symptoms. Anything at all.” Pausing in doing up her buttons, she frowned and lifted the collar of her shirt to get a closer look at the spot of blood there. “Damn.”
“It’ll wash out,” Nurse Becca said reassuringly, and then smiled as she added, “Consider yourself lucky that a couple of splotches of blood is all you have to worry about. Had you not woken up when you did, you’d be without clothes at all. I was about to start cutting them off when you opened your eyes.”
“Cutting them off?” CJ asked with surprise. “I hit my head. Why would you need to— Never mind,” she interrupted her own question. She didn’t really care, but supposed it made it easier to check for other injuries and probably to attach heart monitors and whatnot if necessary. Finishing with her top, she pulled on her pants next and then peered at her bare feet and said, “I had boots.”
Nurse Becca was holding them out before CJ finished the statement and she wondered that she hadn’t noticed her holding them.
“Thank you.” CJ took her cowboy boots from the woman. Pulling out the socks she’d tucked into them a good seven hours earlier when they’d asked her to change into the hospital gown for the X-rays and myriad other tests they’d insisted on, she quickly donned them as well as the boots. Straightening once she was done, CJ glanced to Becca and asked, “My purse?”
“There was no purse when you were brought in,” Becca said with a shrug.
“Oh,” CJ said weakly, and then started toward the door.
“Ms. Cummings,” Dr. Pearson said, following her. “I can’t make you stay, but you will have to sign a release before you go, relieving us of any responsibility should your refusal to stay be detrimental to your health.”
“Yes, fine, I’ll sign a release form,” CJ agreed.
“Good, good.” He sounded relieved, but then added with a small frown, “Although I think you should really wait here at least until the police come to interview you. They’ve been notified and will want to question you about the vehicle that hit you.”
“Waiting isn’t necessary. I’m going straight to the police station from here anyway,” CJ assured him, concentrating on keeping any sign of the headache she was suffering off of her face. She didn’t want them to change their minds and insist on keeping her whether she wanted to stay or not. CJ had always hated hospitals and doctors and avoided them like the plague. Besides, she had things to do here in Sandford, and that didn’t include lying around in a hospital bed being monitored when she was okay other than a skull-splitting headache that a couple of aspirin would no doubt fix. Which made her think of her purse, because she had a bottle of aspirin in it, but it wasn’t here. Hopefully, Mac, Decker, and Bricker had it with them wherever they were. Her car was probably with them too. Which meant she’d need to call a taxi.
“Mrs. Vesper mentioned that there’s a taxi service in town,” CJ said moments later as she signed the release form Dr. Pearson had brought to the nurse’s station.
“Yes,” Becca agreed, looking a little confused as to why she’d bring that up.
“Do you think someone could call them for me? I’ll need a ride to the police station.”
“You don’t wish to go with your man and his friends?” the nurse asked with surprise.
CJ glanced up sharply from the release form, her gaze sliding between Dr. Pearson and Nurse Becca. “My ‘man’ and his friends?”
“Yes. The handsome young fellow who carried you in,” Dr. Pearson explained. “He was in the emergency room with you when you first woke up.”
“Yes, he was very worried about you. Wouldn’t leave your side until you ordered him out when we started to help you undress,” Becca put in now, and then asked with concern, “Don’t you remember?”
No, she didn’t remember that at all. She did have a vague recollection of being made to undress and put on a hospital gown, though. At least, she remembered someone tugging at her clothes and helping her struggle into the gown, although those memories were kind of jumbled and fuzzy. She supposed she hadn’t been totally with it yet at that point. But noting the concern on Nurse Becca’s face and the narrowed-eyed look Dr. Pearson was giving her, CJ forced a smile and lied through her teeth, “Yes, of course. I just assumed he would have left by now. I’ve been here for hours.”
“Oh,” Becca said, and both she and the doctor relaxed. “No. His friends joined him a couple hours later and they’ve been in the visitor’s waiting area ever since,” Becca assured her earnestly, and then beamed and added, “He’s been asking the nurses for an update every five minutes. He’ll be relieved to see you up on your feet and moving around.”
“I’m sure,” CJ murmured, pushing the release form toward her. She turned then to find a wheelchair in her path, started to step around it, and then paused when Nurse Becca put a hand on her arm.
“The wheelchair is for you,” she said gently.
“Oh, I don’t need it. I’m fine,” CJ said with dismay.
“Hospital rules,” Nurse Becca said firmly. “All patients get wheeled out to their vehicles. Wouldn’t want you to slip and fall on the way out and sue us.” Her words ended on a grin, but CJ suspected she’d just given the true reason patients were released that way.
“Right,” she sighed, and settled reluctantly in the wheelchair.
“Here we go,” Nurse Becca said cheerfully, pushing her down the hall. “Let’s go find your man and his friends so they can take you home and start pampering you and showing you some TLC.”
CJ snorted at the suggestion. She could only think her “man” and his friends must be Mac and his bodyguards, Bricker and Decker. But none of those three were her “man,” and there definitely wouldn’t be any pampering or TLC coming her way. Fortunately, Nurse Becca didn’t hear—or chose to ignore—her derisive snort and chattered happily away as she wheeled her down the hall.
CJ let the woman’s voice flow over her and wondered over which of the three men had carried her into the ER. The last thing she remembered was . . . well, it was crazy and couldn’t possibly be true. She remembered Justin Bricker’s shout of warning and looking around. She remembered spotting the red pickup barreling down on them, and then she had some crazy recollection of being scooped up, pressed against Mac, and basically tossed forward through the air with him like they were a couple of tiny tots rather than the full-grown adults they were.
She even remembered Mac’s grunt of pain as they slammed into the ground, and the agony that had crossed his face before her head had slammed down into the pavement and she’d lost consciousness.
But none of that could have happened. She and Mac were not toddlers, and even the Rock couldn’t have slammed them together and thrown them around like that. The Hulk maybe could have done it, but he wasn’t real, and even if he had been, Justin Bricker, who had been the one behind them, was no Hulk. He must have just pushed them forward or something, out of the way of the vehicle, and the crazy memory she had was something her mind had dreamed up after she’d hit her head and been knocked out.
“Here we are.”
CJ glanced up at that cheerful announcement from Nurse Becca to see that they’d arrived at a large open area filled with seats at the end of the hall. Movement drew her attention to Mac as he stood and moved toward them with Decker and Bricker following. Her gaze slid over the man, noting that he was wearing a black T-shirt now rather than the blue one she’d bought him, but otherwise he looked perfectly fine. There was no discomfort on his face, or any stiffness in his movements to suggest he’d taken on damage when they’d been pushed out of the way of the vehicle. The memory she had was obviously something she’d dreamt up while unconscious, CJ decided, and tuned in to what Nurse Becca was saying.
“—dizziness, confusion, sensitivity to light, memory issues, sleeping issues, or things like that. But that isn’t just for the next twenty-four hours. Symptoms can show up later too, so please keep an eye on her, but definitely don’t leave her alone for the first twenty-four hours.”
“Of course not. We’ll look after her,” Mac said solemnly, and CJ gave him a grateful half smile. She wouldn’t hold him to the promise, but appreciated his saying it. She wouldn’t have put it past Nurse Becca to turn the wheelchair around and take her back to Dr. Pearson if she even suspected CJ might not have someone watching over her.