Flirting Under a Full Moon - By Ashlyn Chase Page 0,88

the cops for me. I need to report the bastards who shot me.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We report all gunshot wounds to the police. It’s New York State law. Sherry’s probably calling them now.”

“Efficient,” he said.

She didn’t follow up with any more conversation. Just led him to a room and instructed him to lie on the gurney, facedown, of course.

“Of course,” he said and took the prone position.

She peeled back the gown and said, “It looks like it’s stopped bleeding. When did this happen?”

“Ah…” What would sound realistic? “I don’t know. It was a while before I could locate the hospital, so a couple hours, at least.”

“I’m surprised you’re not moaning in pain.”

“Nah. I’m tougher than I look.”

“I’ll be back with the doctor. In the meantime, keep working on the form.”

He had laid the clipboard on the nearby table, so she handed it to him along with the pen and left him alone with his form.

Let’s see, do I want to give my real name? And what do I use for an address and date of birth? He had to think about that for a while. He and Konrad had been born on December 12, 1912. They had agreed on a more recent year to go with their looks, but was it time to update it? Did he look older than he had thirty years ago?

Crap. This is harder than I thought. He moved on, figuring he’d come back to that stuff. Next of kin. That was easy. He filled in Konrad’s name and phone number. Konrad was his only kin. Their parents, both human, had died long ago, and they’d lost track of any extended family they might have had. He and Konrad had been running away from home at age ten when they came across a pack shifting in the woods under the full moon.

The only reason the pack turned them instead of killing and eating them was because the alpha at the time had stopped them. Stop ruminating, and get the damn form finished.

Name of primary-care physician? None. Insurance? Self pay. Place of work? Self-employed. Okay, now back to the difficult questions.

A partial truth was always easier to admit to than a downright lie, so he wrote down his name as Nicholas Wolf. Close enough.

Again he thought of Brandee. Would she want to keep her maiden name, or would she want to become Mrs. Wolfensen like his sister-in-law Roz had? He shook his head as if to clear it. The crazy things I think about. She might not even want to speak to me when I finally get to talk to her.

Now they wanted his address. He couldn’t use his own. Maybe the bar? He almost laughed out loud as he pictured writing down Boston Uncommon as his address. They’d probably believe he belonged in an asylum since he’d walked in stark naked.

He fudged the rest of the form and hoped no one would check his facts until he was out of there. He signed his fake name with an illegible scrawl and stuck the pen into the gap at the top of the clipboard.

The nurse returned to take his blood pressure and temperature, start an IV, and check his wound again. It had already stopped bleeding, as she’d noted before. Maybe she just wanted another peek at his butt.

“The doctor will be here soon. Hang in there,” she said, and left.

The pain had settled into a dull throb. He hoped the doctor would be able to just dig it out right there in the emergency room instead of scheduling an operating room for the following day. By then, it would be too late.

Chapter 23

Brandee’s phone finally rang. “Please be Nick, please be Nick,” she chanted, running to the kitchen where she’d left it to recharge.

She grabbed it and didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway, shouting, “Hello,” a little louder than necessary.

“Brandee?”

“Oh, Nick, thank goodness! Are you all right?”

“I will be. I just had a little trouble down here and I thought you might be worried. I wasn’t able to call for a while.”

“Oh, my MIA. Of course I was worried. It’s been two days with no word at all.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It couldn’t be helped. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“Nick, what did you mean when you said you will be all right? Does that mean you’re not okay right now?”

“Not exactly. I got shot in the ass. Fortunately my hide is pretty tough so the bullet was shallow. Digging it out