He picks up one of the pillows next to his head. “I want you to buy this same set again, ruffled pillows and all.”
“You like it that much?”
“You like it so I like it.”
Jamie leaves after he’s finished caring for Sin and it’s the two of us. “We should get you out of these trousers.”
“Now, you’re talking.” He lifts his hips when I pull downward. “I believe you, Miss MacAllister, are trying to take advantage of a man while he’s on the poppy.”
“You wish.”
“Aye. That is an incredibly accurate statement.”
I wrestle his pants off and decide to leave him in his boxer briefs. The morphine is kicking in. I don’t feel like dressing a giant toddler.
His breathing becomes heavy and steady. He’s asleep.
I can’t believe I’ve come so far with Sin in such a short period. It was my plan to make it happen as quickly as possible. I wanted to get the job done and return home but I never dreamed it would occur in this short time. At this rate, I’ll be inside Thane’s home very soon. And my work here will be done.
I push Sin’s hair from his forehead. “I’m going to miss you when I’m gone. I truly will.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sinclair Breckenridge
Bleu hasn’t been happy with me in days. She thinks I should have stayed home to recuperate longer. I think differently.
We’re alike in so many ways but this isn’t one of them. I don’t know how to make her understand that this wound is nothing. It was a simple gunshot to my shoulder. I’ve been through so much worse.
“Mr. Breckenridge.” I look up to see my secretary standing at my desk. “Are you feeling all right ?”
“Of course.”
She looks puzzled. “I called your name three times before you responded.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”
“You were looking right at me, sir.” I don’t think so. I’d remember looking straight at her while she said my name. “You don’t look like your usual self, Mr. Breckenridge. You’re pale.”
The truth is I don’t feel well. “I could be coming down with something. I think I’ll take the rest of the afternoon off.”
“Take it easy over the weekend,” Heather says. “You’ll be back to a hundred percent by Monday.”
Rest. That’s what I need. “I’ll do that. See you next week.”
I get into my car but the next coherent moment I have is when I realize Sterling is waiting for me to get out of the car. I can’t remember the drive home from work. “Are you all right, sir?” No. I’m not. Something isn’t right.
“I’m fine. That will be all.”
I go into the house and call out for Bleu. I’ve come to know better than to startle her by coming home unannounced. She’d probably throat punch me before I knew what hit me. “Bonny, I’m home early.”
She comes into the living room from the back of the house and I can tell she’s recently come home from her daily run. “Hey. This is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting you for a few more hours.”
She’s going to enjoy hearing me admit this. “I fear you were right, Dr. MacAllister. I believe the shooting has finally caught up with me.”
“See? Do you believe that I know what I’m talking about now? You. Need. Rest.”
No way I’m arguing with her. “I think I’ll lie on the couch for a while. Maybe watch some TV.”
“Can I get you anything?”
I shake my head no.
“Then I’m going to get a shower. I’m stinky.” I usually love catching her hot and sweaty so I can help her out of her clothes and into the shower. But not today.
I fall onto the sofa.
“After my shower, I want to show you the pictures I took today.” Her voice fades as she walks toward the bedroom. “They’re magnificent. I think I could sell them to a travel magazine or something like that.” Or maybe she’s fading because I’m drifting.
* * *
I wake to Bleu calling my name. “Breck! You’re burning up with fever.”
“Hmm … ?” Again, I’m confused.
Hands are touching my face, moving from my cheeks to my forehead and back again. “You’re on fire.”
No, I’m not. I’m shivering because I’m so cold. “I need a blanket. I’m freezing.”
“I’m going to help you up so I can take you to the emergency room.”
I’m not confused about that. “Hell no, you’re not.”
“You’re sick. Bad.”
“I may be but I’m not going to the hospital.” My voice is stern. I’m not in the mood to discuss it.
“Something’s not right about this.”
I curl into a ball so I can get warm. “Call Jamie.”
“Excuse me if I don’t have a lot of faith in his medical care right now.”
I feel dizzy so I cover my eyes using my hand. “Just call Jamie.”
She huffs but takes my phone from my jacket pocket. “It’s Bleu. You need to come see Sin now. He has a really high fever and isn’t feeling well at all.”
She sits on the couch at my feet and rubs my leg. “He’s on his way. How long have you had fever?”
“I have no idea. I was busy today trying to finish up research for a case going to court on Monday. I haven’t had time to think about it.” It suddenly seems important to tell her about my confusion. “I’ve had a couple of incidents today. I guess you could call them memory lapses.”
Her hand stops moving. “What kind of memory lapses?”
“My secretary—she had trouble getting my attention.”
“You said you were busy with an important case. Maybe you were preoccupied.”
“She was standing right in front of me. I apparently stared blankly while she called my name three times. I have no recollection of it.”
“Oh.”
“And I don’t remember the drive home.”
“Infection wouldn’t be unusual after a gunshot wound so I understand the fever and chills but your mental status shouldn’t be affected. That concerns me.”
She isn’t the only one. “Tell no one except Jamie.”
“Not even your parents?”
“Especially my parents.” I don’t want my father to tell Abram I’m not well. He could see it as a perfect opportunity to act out against Bleu a second time. “I mean it. I have important reasons for them not knowing. Not a word.”
“I won’t.”
I lie on the couch waiting for Jamie. I didn’t think it was possible but I feel worse by the time he arrives. “Your temp is 103. How long have you been running a fever?”
“No idea.”
He listens to my chest. “Your respirations and heart rate are faster than they should be. Something’s definitely going on.” He pushes up my pant leg and squeezes my ankle. “You been pissing normally?”
“What constitutes normal?”
“Has the color or amount changed?”
I hadn’t considered that until now. “It’s darker and I’m not going as often.”
“In the very least, you need an IV and antibiotics.”
“Then let’s do it.”
He sits in the chair across from me. “I’d be treating you blindly. You need blood cultures to make sure this isn’t something worse than a simple infection. I don’t have a lab so you’ll need to go to the hospital.”
“Come on, Jamie. You know I can’t go into a hospital.” I haven’t stepped foot in one since the day I was discharged six years ago. I’m not sure I can do it.
“I wouldn’t advise you to go if I thought I could treat you here. I’m sorry but we need to rule out an inflammatory response to infection. I don’t have the things I need for that.”
“Inflammatory response? What does that mean?” Bleu asks.
“It’s a way the body sometimes responds to infection.”
I think this could be something serious but he’s not telling me. “Don’t dance around, bullshitting me w
ith medical jargon. What do you think is happening?”
“Have you experienced any confusion?”
This isn’t good. “I’ve had two incidents.”
I’m not going to like this answer. “I think you’re becoming septic. That means you can’t wait. You must go now so a culture can be done immediately. The results will identify the antibiotic that will best treat your infection.”
This isn’t what I want to hear. I can’t protect Bleu from Abram if I’m lying in a hospital bed. But I guess I can’t if I’m dead, either.
* * *