Page 60 of Quinton's Quest

He winced again. “You’re too smart.”

I chuckled. Then flashed the light in each eye. “Have you seen Dr. Medina yet?”

“She’s run off her feet tonight. I told you—I’m okay.”

“How about you let the medical professionals determine that?”

“What did you see?”

I hesitated. Then decided he knew just enough to know too much. But I still plunged forward. “Left pupil was sluggish—”

“I’m tired.”

“I’m still going to let her know. I suspect an MRI is in order.”

He sighed. “I’m fine. If you could just arrange a ride home—”

“No. Absolutely not. You’re not leaving here without a neuro consult. Now, are you going to behave so I can check on everyone else?”

Slowly, he nodded.

Finn was a damn fine-looking man. Tall, sculpted, and a ginger with dark-blue eyes. He’d take the breath away of anyone with a pulse between eighteen and eighty. He also happened to be not my type in any way. Which said something as I was an unabashed bisexual who was vers. Finn just…didn’t do it for me. I chalked it up to him being too pretty although, given my feelings of lust for Leo, that didn’t hold water either.

The fact we’d gone to school together probably hadn’t helped. Still, as two of the only gay guys in Mission City, we’d felt obliged to try dating. Anyway, after one disastrous attempted hookup years ago, we decided being friends worked better for us.

“I’ll be back.” I closed the curtain after I exited, removed my gloves, and headed to curtain eleven.

Miriam also wore sweats. She also had an oxygen mask on. She yanked it down when she saw me.

I checked her pulse ox and attempted to push it back on.

“I want a canula.” She jutted out her chin.

In return, I arched an eyebrow.

She coughed. “What I really want is to go home.”

“Well, that’s not happening. Your pulse ox is shit, so you’re staying right where you are. Any other injuries?”

She shook her head.

“Care to tell me what happened? Finn took a knock to the head. You’ve got what I assume is smoke inhalation—”

She nodded.

“And the others?”

She pursed her lips. “Albert’s got a broken arm, and Marlon’s twisted his ankle. I think Giancarlo and Krish had smoke inhalation stuff as well. But they’re at Maple Ridge.”

I attempted to nudge the mask back on.

“Damn it.” She coughed again.

I read panic in her eyes. After moving closer, I asked, “What is it?”

“That shouldn’t have happened.”

“What shouldn’t have?”