Raiden (The Kent Brothers #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,12

this would pay.

Turned out, it was a surgical retrieval of the piece of metal. It had gone in deep but wasn’t a critical wound.

Raiden’s situation wasn’t as bad as we first thought. He faced a potential loss of one finger. It was the one closest to the blast—his pinkie.

“How the fuck will I pinkie swear now if they have to take it?”

“Seriously? That’s your biggest concern?”

“It was a joke, Scottie.”

I let out a lungful of sour air. “Don’t joke about this right now. Later, after we catch the fucker who did this.”

A couple of days later, we were both still in the hospital, but he’d come to my room to pay me a visit.

“Hey, we’ll find him. My only concern right now is you getting better.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m worried about your hand and wrist.”

He held the bandaged appendages up and wiggled them. “They’ll be fine. See?”

A devilish grin curved my mouth. “I’m just glad it didn’t affect your tongue.”

“Ooh, such a naughty girl.”

I waggled my brows. “I thought you loved naughty?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Follow me.” I inched my way out of bed and grabbed the IV pole tethered to me. I ushered him into the bathroom and locked the door. “Get ready, Mr. Kent.” I lifted his gown. “How convenient. No underwear.”

“Wait a second, you can’t do that in here.”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Ms. Sullivan? Are you in there?”

“That’s why,” he whispered.

“I am.”

“It’s time for your vitals and medication.”

“I’ll be right out.” A giggle gushed out of me that was impossible to stop. Raiden raised his brows, most likely because I rarely giggled.

When we walked out of the bathroom, it was the nurse’s turn to raise her brows. “Oh. Well then,” she stammered.

It was obvious what we’d been up to or about to anyway. Then I glanced at Raiden and he grinned too.

The nurse took my temperature and blood pressure.

“Your pressure’s a little high but that’s normal, considering.”

I’d say. Anything to do with Raiden raised my blood pressure.

Then she handed me a cup with my medicine in it. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you.”

“Behave you two.” She waved as she left.

When the door clicked shut, we shared a glance. I covered my mouth to suppress the loud laugh.

A cocky grin appeared on Raiden. “That was a first for me.”

“What? The nurse or getting caught in the bathroom?” I snickered.

He chuckled along. “Both, and I was referring to the hospital bathroom. For a minute there I thought she would scold us.”

“So did I!”

One glance at the clock and he headed to the door. “I have to leave. They’re coming to do my wound treatment.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You sure? It’s super gross.”

“Come on.” I hooked my arm through the crook of his and off we went. His room was on another floor and when we arrived, a nurse at the station commented as we passed, “Mr. Kent, we’ve been searching for you.”

He held up a hand. “Right here.”

“The doctor wants to check you. I’ll page him now.”

It took a half hour for the doctor to arrive and he unwrapped Raiden’s hand and wrist. Ugh, they were awful. Some of his skin was red and other parts were black.

“I have to debride this. He pointed to the blackened bits.”

“I figured as much.”

“Is it painful?” I asked. It looked horrific.

“Not much,” Raiden answered.

The doctor explained, “With deep burns such as this, it often destroys the nerves. This is looking good. I can identify a few areas that will need skin grafts. I’m still concerned about this finger, but it appears to be improving. Your wrist looks great. We’ll keep you on the antibiotics so infection doesn’t set in and then if this continues, we’ll do the grafts soon.”

“And then?” Curiosity over what came next spurred me on. My heart thumped as I waited for the answer. The doctor looked at Raiden as if asking for permission to answer.

“It’s fine to speak in front of her.”

“After we do the grafts and I’m satisfied they’re healing with no sign of rejection or infection, he’ll be free to go home. Occupational therapy will get his finger moving again.”

“Rejection?”

The doctor nodded. “Even though we’ll use his own skin, there’s always a chance of rejection. It’s not likely, but it can happen. He’s young and healthy though, so the odds are in his favor.”

“Hey, doc, when will I know about the pinkie?”

“I’d say soon. If good blood flow establishes and healing occurs, I think they have a chance. The problem is it’s small and took a

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