Page 22 of Burn Bag (Owens Protective Services #31)

“Well, if I had to go to the hospital because of your murder cats, you could at least do me the courtesy of going when you have third-degree burns.”

“They are not murder cats!”

“I like how she jumped to the defense of her cats before the whole burn thing,” Red mused.

The curtain was tugged back and the nurse from yesterday, Kristy, grinned down at me. “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“It’s his fault,” I snarled.

Bradley’s eyes widened in shock. “How the hell is this my fault? ”

“Because I was trying to be a good wife and make you breakfast! It’s not my fault I didn’t know how to make bacon or pancakes!”

“She’s right,” Kristy grinned.

“How the hell is she right?”

“Well, she was trying to be a good wife and got injured for it. And because she was trying to be a good wife for you, it therefore only makes sense that it’s your fault.”

I smiled triumphantly at her logic while Bradley gaped in confusion, along with his friend.

“That makes no sense at all.”

“Sure it does,” she laughed. “Now, here’s the prescription for your medicine. Keep it wrapped for at least seven days or until the burns have healed. And the dressing may need to be changed every three days.”

I glared at Bradley for making me come here, and that’s when I noticed the needle sticking out of my arm. Swallowing hard, I stared down at it, feeling the room spin. “What…what is that?”

“It’s an IV,” Kristy said distractedly as she walked over to me. “Your husband insisted on giving you something for the pain, and since you were out of it…”

I didn’t hear the rest of what she said as the room spun around me in a dizzying tilt-a-whirl. I was going to pass out. Just as I flopped to the right, Bradley caught me, holding me upright.

“Is that what this was all about?” he shouted.

At least, it sounded like shouting through the fog in my head. “Don’t feel so good,” I muttered just before my stomach lurched. I turned just in time to vomit all over the floor.

To his credit, Bradley didn’t even move out of the way. Instead, he just sat down beside me and rubbed my back as I slumped against him.

“I don’t feel so good.”

His low rumble against my cheek soothed me in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge. “Yeah, I kind of got that.”

“Well, this has been fun,” Red laughed. “We should go before anything else happens and we end up here for the night. ”

“Just let me clean this up,” Kristy said, hurrying over to the side of the bed.

The smell of vomit nearly had me gagging, but I held back. How was Bradley just sitting there with the smell all around him?

“You two are quite the pair,” the nurse laughed. “Try to stay away for at least another day before we see you again.”

“I make no guarantees,” I muttered.

“Then try to come after seven. That’s when my shift starts. Any earlier and I’ll miss all the excitement.”

I wasn’t sure how much longer we were at the hospital. I tried my best to ignore the way it smelled and had to turn my head when the person in the gurney beside me had his own IV attached. It was just about that time that Bradley hoisted me up into his arms and carried my limp body out the door.

“Why do I feel so fuzzy?”

“Because you got the good stuff,” he chuckled.

“Good stuff,” I said, the words catching on my lips in a weird way. Why did everything sound so weird? Did I sound like this before?

“You guys sure are off to a good start,” Red laughed. “Two days in a row at the hospital. That’s gotta be a record.”

“Shut up,” Bradley muttered.

I snuggled into his chest, feeling rather sleepy, even though I’d just woken up from passing out not that long ago.

“We should definitely get insurance,” I muttered.

“For what?”

“Disaster relief.”

“Not sure disaster relief covers cat scratches and oil burns,” he rumbled, “but I’ll look into it.”

I nodded against his chest and sighed heavily. Now seemed like a good time to go back to sleep.

“Ow! Goddamnit!”

I flung the covers off two seconds after I woke up and bolted from the bed. Dizziness washed over me for a moment before I righted myself and headed for the stairs.

“You demon cat!”

“What happened?” I shouted, nearly tripping over my own feet as I rushed into the room.

“Your demon cat climbed my fucking leg again! I swear to God, if he tears into my balls, I’m going to fucking kill him!”

I hurried over, desperate to get the kitten away from him before things got bad. “Shoo, shoo!” I said, trying to get the kittens out of the room.

Bradley was scowling at my babies, looking like he was about to kill them. “I swear, I’ll find them all homes.”

“You’d better. I need some fucking sleep without the fear that my body parts will get eaten!”

I nodded, feeling the panic well inside me. I knew it would be an issue from the first day here…which was really only two days ago. Things were not off to a great start.

“I promise. I’ll talk to some of the other wives and see if anyone wants a cat.”

“Or three,” he retorted. “If I have to suffer, so does everyone else.”

“It’s not suffering. These kittens were in a bad place. You have no idea what I had to go through to rescue them.”

“They’re just cats,” he sighed. “For every one that dies, four more pop up. Have you seen how they populate?”

I tried not to let his harsh description bother me. Yes, cats multiplied quickly. Especially if they were barn cats, but they also had shorter lives outdoors. These poor things hadn’t deserved what was about to happen to them.

“Look, I promise, I’ll take care of it.”

“Soon,” he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

I held up my injured hand as a promise, but also because I wanted to remind him I was injured so he wouldn’t be so hard on me. Luckily, it worked. His face softened immediately and he sighed.

“At least by the end of the week. ”

I nodded, grateful for the reprieve. “Definitely. I’ll work on it as quickly as possible.”

“Now I see why you got so much cat food. You aren’t hiding more than the seven cats, are you?”

“No, I swear.”

“I thought maybe that burn incident was some kind of way to get out of trouble yesterday,” he smirked. “Like you were hiding another litter, but didn’t know how to tell me, so you burned yourself so I wouldn’t be mad.”

“I would never do that.” Cry? Absolutely. Purposely injure myself? Not a chance. I hated hospitals, which he now knew.

“Well…” He rocked on his heels, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Yeah, this was awkward. It was like we were having some kind of morning-after talk, except there had been no sex. So, here we stood, both of us unsure of where to go from here.

“So, you don’t cook.”

“No,” I smiled, shaking my head. “And I’m not the best housekeeper either.”

“Well, I sort of figured that when you said you stored extra dishes in your oven.”

“Hey, plenty of people do that!”

“Okay, so we’ll need to hire a housekeeper.”

“And probably a cook,” I added.

“I can help out with the cooking. You handle the litter boxes. Under no circumstances do I want to touch litter.”

“Of course,” I agreed. Hey, I was just happy he was letting me keep the kittens for a little longer. “I’ll take care of it right now.”

I slid my flip-flops on and grabbed some trash bags for the boxes.

I’d have to clean them multiple times a day with seven kittens.

I started scooping the litter, but quickly found it difficult with the big bandage on my hand and arm.

Seriously, this was the most ridiculous thing ever. I didn’t actually need it.

Marching into the kitchen, I found the scissors and was just about to cut the damn bandage off when Bradley caught me .

“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting rid of this.”

“Why? It’s there to protect you.”

I dug the scissors under the bandage and ignored him. “Well, it’s in my way. I can’t do anything with my hand all wrapped up. Besides, the litter will only get inside and then be trapped underneath it. It’s not sanitary.”

He grabbed the scissors out of my hands with a grunt of disapproval, ignoring the scowl on my face. “I’ll do it.”

I held out my hand, but he marched away. “Hey! I’m over here!”

“Not that,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll clean the litter boxes.”

“But you don’t like cats!” I argued, chasing after him.

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to get over it, aren’t I?”

I gaped at him as she snatched the bag off the floor and dug the scooper into the litter, nearly gagging when a clump of poop came up.

“Oh, God, that’s disgusting,” he groaned, dumping it in the bag.

“Here, let me hold the bag?—”

“No, get back,” he coughed, hiding his face in his elbow. “This has to be toxic or some shit.”

“It’s not toxic. And I’ll be fine.”

He stood up and glared at me, but there was no heat behind his eyes. Only an intensity that had me stopping in my tracks. “I did not take you to the hospital only for you to come home and make things worse. Your hand is healing and we’re going to make sure those burns heal correctly. Got it?”

I gave a succinct nod, but I felt terrible.

All I could do was stand there and watch as he continued to scoop the litter until all the clumps were gone.

By the time he was finished, I was sure he was going to look online for a hazmat suit and rubber gloves.

I was definitely going to have to get in here and clean up so he didn’t have to do it.

I just had to make sure I did it when he wasn’t looking.

When he stomped back inside, I kept my distance, sure he was about to yell at me. Instead, he walked right past me and grabbed his keys .

“I’m going out. I do not want to see you doing anything with that hand. Is that understood?”

“Uh…yes.”

“Good. I’ll be back soon with some food. Sit down and rest.”

He turned and marched out the door, leaving me frowning after him. “Rest? I just woke up.”