Loving the Crown (The Crown 3)

Liam

It felt good to put on a set of dry clothes. I seemed more human this way. More normal. I checked my phone again. Gillian had been gone thirty minutes, but while she was having X-rays done, I decided to research the American actress.

With a quick search, there were thousands of hits on her name. I clicked on the first few news articles. There was a rundown on her fashion trends. I didn’t care. There was buzz about what award nominations she’d receive. I was more impressed the show had reached that level.

And then I saw the headline about her love life. I glanced at the door before clicking on the link. When the fuck had I done something this grade school? I skimmed the article.

I shoved my phone in my back pocket when the nurse appeared with Gillian. She was wearing a white fluffy robe and a pair of slippers.

“No leather?” I asked.

She twisted her lips together. “Wet clothes aren’t allowed for the X-ray machine.”

“I’m glad you’re more comfortable.”

She still cradled her arm. “Slightly. Wet leather isn’t my thing, but necessary for a vampire wrangler.”

I chuckled. “I had no idea.” What I did know, was she looked sexy as sin in leather. “Does your character always chase vampires in high heels and leather? That seems like a dangerous combination for a demon fighter.”

She sighed. “Mostly yes. Comes with the territory. But I do get to play with weapons.”

The nurse interrupted. “I’m going to get the images for Dr. Fines. We’ll be right back.”

“How does your arm feel?” I asked.

“Like I slammed into a wall.”

“We’re almost out of here. It shouldn’t be long now.”

The door opened and Dr. Fines walked in. There was a small group of doctors who worked this floor of the hospital. Dr. Fines had set my shoulder when I dislocated it playing rugby. He had stitched my brother Corbin’s chin after he fell from a tree in the orchard. I was certain he had healed all the Marquis children at one point in his career. It didn’t help that we were reckless and wild. I trusted him. I knew whatever his diagnosis would be, it would be the right one.

“Ahh, Miss Sparks. I have some good news.”

She leaned forward expectantly. “Please tell me.”

Dr. Fines placed his laptop next to her on the bed. He pointed to an image of her humerus.

“You can see here that the bone is intact. I’m not concerned about the shoulder joint. Everything looks fine.” He zoomed in. “And I don’t see any evidence of a fracture. There are no breaks.” He moved to the next slide. “Same with your radius and ulna. I can’t find anything.”

“That is good news.”

He looked at me. “But I can’t rule out a bone bruise. With this level of swelling and your description of the accident, I think it’s a likely possibility. The only way I can see a bruise is with an MRI.”

I saw the sudden panic in Gillian’s eyes. It was as if the strong stubborn woman was instantly overshadowed.

“Doc.” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “What if it is a bone bruise? How would you treat it?” I don’t know why I felt like I had to keep stepping in. Why I had to keep intervening, but it was as if there was an instinct that kicked in when I was near her.

He shook his head. “I’m afraid it’s not going to be immediate. It needs to be elevated. You need ice and anti-inflammatories. I can prescribe something extra for the pain.”

“No.” Gillian shook her head. “I don’t want anything extra. I can manage the pain. I have to stay clear for tomorrow.”

“Miss Sparks, you won’t be able to return to work tomorrow. The swelling is going to get worse before it gets better.”

“But how long?” she squeaked. “How long until I can work?”

“You may not be fully healed for at least a month.”

“A month? I have a day, maybe two. Lance is going to loose it if he hears this. I need to be better for tomorrow, Dr. Fines. Tomorrow.”