“Yes?”
His voice was still warbled, and she wondered what drug-induced statement would come out of his mouth this time. Hopefully it wouldn’t involve any vivid descriptions of her coming on his carpet.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.”
The embarrassment of having Shirley as a witness was worth hearing that. Even if Houston had no idea what he was saying. Her hands slowed down and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat, which clung there like a large grape.
“It’s hard for me to get close to people, but if I was going to, it would be with you.”
Her leg jerked back and hit the metal table with a loud bang, rattling the equipment lying on it. She gaped at him in shock, even though she told herself he was not in his right mind. He was watching her earnestly, his mouth pulled down in a frown, his blue eyes glazed with pain.
Those damn tears were back, which meant she really was unqualified to do her job. Swiping at her eye with no attempt at discretion, she frowned at him. “Go to sleep, Houston.”
She didn’t want to hear any more. Or rather, she wanted too much to hear more. A little seed of hope had sprung to life in her heart, and that was a bad thing. Because when Houston was off the drugs, he’d grind that hope beneath his foot.
Ignoring Shirley’s questioning look, she went back to work,wishing she could just staple his leg and his mouth shut and get the hell out of there.
Houston obviously didn’t like her answer. He was beginning to show signs of agitation. He was trying to sit up, and Shirley was pushing him gently back down. His hand snaked out and tried to grab Josie’s, which at the moment was occupied stitching his flesh back together.
“My father. It’s not your fault.” His eyes closed for a minute and he sighed.
When he spoke again, his tone had changed, become flirtatious. “You know, I really like your hair.”
Shirley smothered a laugh behind her hand. Josie felt a flush rushing up her neck.
“And your tits, and your hot, round a?—”
Josie cut him off, her voice about three octaves higher than normal. “Let’s get him some Augmentin, Shirley, and arrange for him to be moved to a room. He’ll be ready to go in about twenty minutes.”
Glancing at his wet swimming trunks above his wounds, she added, “He needs these trunks taken off, they’re soaking wet.”
“You can take my trunks off.” A loopy, sexual smile crossed his face.
“Shirley can do it while I talk to your relatives.”
His head rolled back and forth. “You do it. It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”
Geez, oh Pete. So much for discretion. Within thirty minutes this juicy piece of gossip would be making the rounds of the hospital faster than the SARS virus in Beijing. Josie wanted to hide under the bed, and couldn’t quite bring herself to meet Shirley’s curious stare.
Finishing her last suture, she told him firmly, “The nurse will handle it.”
Eager to get away from him and his colorful descriptions of herbody, she dropped the needle on the tray. “Is there someone in the waiting room I should talk to?”
He nodded. “Yeah. My buddies. They’ll be worried. Tell them I’m fine, will you?”
Fine was probably overstating it. “Sure. Let me finish up here, then we’ll get a unit of blood going. You just lie back and try to rest.”
His eyes remained closed but he didn’t seem ready to fall asleep yet. “So I’m okay? No devitalized muscle?”
“No. You’ll have some really interesting scars, but I expect you’ll recover.” Josie backed towards the door, rolling her shoulders.
“I’m finished. I’ll go talk to your friends, then I’ll be back.”
Houston didn’t answer, finally having given in to the effects of the painkiller and fallen asleep.
She gave him a once over, remembering the EMT mentioning his hand. Josie frowned, stepping back to the bed. Houston’s right hand was covered in blood under a bandage.
How could she have missed that earlier? She mentally berated herself for not being as thorough as she should have been.