“Special Agent Duncan Palmer. This is my wife, Sloane. What’s wrong with her?”
“From my initial exam, she appears rather dehydrated. We’ll know more once the blood work comes back.”
“She had a pretty bad headache the other night. Could it be linked?”
“Headaches are a symptom of dehydration, yes. We’llstart her on some intravenous fluids and medications to get her fever under control.”
Dammit, I should’ve realized something was wrong then. With all the stress she’d been under, plus the preparation for the kids’ party, she’d completely neglected herself. That shit ended immediately.
“When will I be able to take her home? She’s going to want to get back to our twins when she wakes up.”
“Let's wait for the blood results, but I’d say if she’s doing better in a few hours, she should be fine for discharge.”
“Appreciate it.”
“If you’d like, I can show you where the waiting room is. You might be more comfortable there while they’re getting her settled.”
“I’m not leaving her side.”
“Very well. I’ll let you know once I’ve confirmed her diagnosis.”
He typed something into the tablet he carried before leaving without another word. I remained in the same place until only one nurse was left in the room, Callie, the one who’d met us at the SUV. She was kind, yet tough, like the majority of the women I knew. She dimmed the lights, pulled a chair over next to the gurney, then stared me down until I sat in it.
“The call button is on the table. Press it when she wakes up. Can I bring you anything to drink? Coffee? Water?”
Before I could answer, a familiar voice sounded from the doorway.
“I brought him a coffee. Trust me, D. You don’t want to drink the swill they try to pass off as coffee here. It’s disgusting.”
“Shayne.” I dropped my head to my shoulders. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Rude much?” She entered the room without permission, holding two orange-and-white paper cups. “Waverly was right. You’re being a grumpy fucker. Maybe I’ll give your coffee away since you don’t seem to be appreciative of my kindness.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Shayne can giveth, and Shayne can taketh away.”
“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person?”
“Because I can.” She stuck out her tongue. “Are you done being a dick?”
“Depends. What’s in my cup?”
“Americano with a splash of half-and-half. Just the way you like it.”
“Fine. You can stay.”
Nurse Callie chuckled at our antics. I’d completely forgotten she was still there. Slipping past me, she dropped the metal safety railings on the side of the gurney, which had been blocking me from touching my girl, then excused herself to check on her other patients. I slid closer, interlocking my fingers with Sloane’s. Shayne didn’t bother to wait for an invitation, she picked up a metal folding chair, moving it across from mine.
“Seriously though. How is she?”
Taking a sip of my coffee, I answered, “The doctor thinks she’s dehydrated.”
That reminded me. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I shot off a text to Waverly with the latest update. She responded quickly, letting me know the kids were still asleep.
“I know this isn’t the time, but Maeve’s lawyer is requesting she be evaluated to determine if she’s fit to stand trial.”
It hadcome as a shock when the judge denied her bail after the kidnapping. He’d felt she was a flight risk, considering her relationship with Shawn O’ Lachlan, Sloane’s father. His illness had been the catalyst for her criminal behavior after all.