Southern Heat (Southern 6)

Glancing around the room, I look for where I can escape, and then I see him. Standing in the hallway with a blonde who smiles up at him. She gets on her tippy toes and kisses his cheek and then turns to walk away from him. He stands there watching her walk away from him. I swallow down the sudden lump in my throat as I watch him walk back into the room.

"Good morning,” he says, and I see the big brown bag in his hand.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Just after nine,” he says, putting the bag down on the hospital tray. “How are you feeling?"

"Groggy," I answer him honestly. “But I’m fine." He just looks at me with his hands on his hips, and I see he’s wearing a different shirt. Maybe he did leave when I was sleeping.

"I’ll get Shirley,” he says between his teeth, almost hissing.

"Good morning, Willow,” Shirley says, coming in, and I wait for Quinn to follow her, but he doesn’t. He just stands outside the room, looking in.

"Good morning," I say, and she comes to me and takes my vitals.

"How are you this morning?" she asks.

"Fine,” I say, and she looks at me over her glasses.

"Um, Shirley," I say her name softly as I look out to see Quinn still standing there watching. I move my head back to make sure he won’t see me. “Why is he here?"

"He hasn’t left here since you got here,” she says. “He takes off for twenty minutes each night to take a shower."

My mouth opens. “What day is it?"

"Friday,” she says, and she looks at me. “Now answer me honestly, and I promise not to tell anyone." I swallow, not sure I can actually answer the truth to anyone. "How are you really feeling?"

I look down. “I’m in a little bit of pain," I admit and don’t meet her eyes. Just in case she sees that a little bit means a lot.

"Where does it hurt?" she asks, her voice so soft it’s like we’re whispering to each other. She puts her hand on my arm to make me feel safe.

"My head throbs,” I say. “Side feels like someone is stabbing me, and then on the other side, it feels like I’m being kicked." Tears sting my eyes, and I lift my hand and hiss out at the pain shooting all the way up to my shoulder.

"Did your arm hurt when you lifted it?" she asks, and I want to tell her yes, but I look down at my lap.

"It’s not that bad." I ignore the thumping of my heart as I try to block out the pain.

"I’ll be back,” she says, and I grab her arm, surprising her.

"Don’t tell anyone," I beg, fearing she will tell someone how much pain I’m in. "I’m fine."

"Willow,” she says, her voice very low. “No one is going to know what you told me,” she says. “But I think you need an X-ray just to make sure everything is okay."

"But …" I look from her to Quinn, who sees my face and comes charging in.

"What’s the matter?" he asks, his tone going from low to loud.

"Nothing is the matter,” Shirley says before I do. “She’s fine. But the doctor ordered some tests, so I was telling her about them."

"What kind of tests?" he asks, his face full of worry. “He hasn’t been here this morning.”

My mouth is suddenly dry as I hear the galloping of my heart in my ears. “It is a routine test,” Shirley says. “Stop asking me questions; I’m taking care of her,” she huffs and walks past him. “Don’t make me hurt you,” she says to him, and he rolls his eyes as she walks out.

"Why do I feel like she’s lying to me?" He looks at me, his eyes never wavering from mine.

"I don’t know anything about you," I say. “So I have no idea why you would think that. But if I did, I would just say that you’re paranoid and have too much time on your hands." I shrug my shoulders, and I almost cry out in pain.

My lower lip trembles, and he sees the pain this time. I expect him to say something to me, but he doesn’t have the chance because Shirley comes back in. “Okay, let’s get you going,” she says, coming to me and unclipping things and then unlocking the wheels. “Let’s take you for a ride," she says with a smile. “We’ll be back in about thirty minutes."

He just nods at her as she wheels me out of the room. “Thank you,” I say softly when we are far enough from the room for him to hear.

"You don’t have to thank me for doing my job,” she says and pushes me through the blue doors. The lights shine in from the windows as we roll down the beige hallway.