Desperate Times (Boys of Silver Ridge 2)

I always feel a little weird talking about what’s physically wrong with me. I’m not dying of cancer—like my mom—and I feel like a baby complaining. I have every right to, and it’s perfectly fine to allow yourself to wallow in misery every once in a while, acknowledging how crappy it feels to just have a cold. “I have the flu,” I start.

“Fuck, it must be bad if you’re in the hospital because of it.”

“I had a pretty high fever, but it was the migraine that brought me in, and an allergic reaction to the medication I was given to treat said migraine that caused me to be admitted overnight.”

“That sounds absolutely terrible. I’m sorry, Chloe. You’re going to be okay, aren’t you?”

“I think so, but if I die, I’ll kill your character off too. It won’t matter who’s mad at me if I’m dead.”

“Hilarious. We both know you could never do that to Marcus,” Charles replies. It sounds like he’s on set somewhere, with an action scene going on in the background, because he’s way too calm to be talking me amidst real gunfire.

“I couldn’t. I love him too much. Though sometimes I do think I should make everyone suffer a lot more. It’s good for them, you know? Builds character, and it’s been a while since I killed anyone.”

Charles laughs. “That is true. If you’re going to off someone, do it with style.”

“For sure. It’ll be bloody and violent with slow torture. Being in the hospital gave me some new ideas about murder, actually,” I say right as the door opens. Sam walks in, followed by a nurse, who’s giving me the side-eye and probably wondering if she should call security. “I gotta go,” I tell Charles.

“Call me later, don’t die.”

“I’ll try not to, but if I do, I will haunt you.”

“I honestly will be disappointed if you don’t. Make sure that hot doctor boyfriend takes good care of you.”

“He has been,” I say, unable to help but smile. “Bye, Charles.” I end the call and put the phone on the bedside table. “You’re early.”

“I missed you,” Sam tells me. He has a bag full of the personal items I requested, like new underwear, my hairbrush, and PJs so I can change out of this hospital gown.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” my nurse says. She's young and told me she just graduated from nursing school in the spring.

“He’s totally obsessed with me and has been begging me to go out with him for years,” I joke. “I finally said yes.”

The nurse, whose name I can’t remember because it was way too early when she came in and introduced herself, laughs and takes her stethoscope from around her neck to check my pulse.

“Still good,” she says. “Do you need anything?”

“Sleep,” I say with a frown. “I’m tired.”

“It’s hard to sleep here, I know,” she says. “And I need to come back and check your pulse and blood pressure again in about half an hour.”

“Okay,” I say, biting my tongue on asking when I can go home. It’s only been a few minutes since I got my blood taken. It’s not at the lab yet, I’m sure.

“How are you feeling, for real?” Sam asks, coming over and kissing my forehead. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a navy-blue long-sleeved shirt. His hair is messy, and the perfect amount of stubble covers his sharp jaw. It’s not fair for anyone to be this good-looking with so little effort. Though who I am to complain when I’m the one sleeping with someone that good-looking?

“So tired,” I confess. “I didn’t sleep well last night and everyone and their mother has been in my room today.” I pull back the blankets and pat the bed, motioning for Sam to come join me. “I’m going to get sicker if I don’t sleep.”

“The nurse was right. Resting in a hospital setting is difficult, and I’ve actually seen patients regress from lack of sleep,” he admits ruefully.

“See? I should leave now.”

He kicks off his shoes and lies down next to me. “Let’s see how your labs are. Did anyone come and take blood this morning?”

“Yeah, and I think I freaked the girl out because I tried to make a vampire joke.”

He covers us up and carefully takes me in his arms. “Sleep now. I’ll deal with anyone who comes in. Unless it’s urgent, you need to sleep. I don’t think you’re dehydrated anymore, but you are still sick and need to take it easy when you do leave.”

“I know, and trust me, I don’t want to get worse. I don’t have time for this as it is, and having a repeat is not something I want to do.” I close my eyes. “We can still drive back to your apartment tonight, though. I’ll sleep in the car on the way there.”