Page 16 of Wild Card (Men of Action #4)

WILLOW

Fire scalds when I try to swallow. The sensation sears my esophagus. I twist, gasping from the rippling pain in my abdomen, and burrowing deeper into the mattress.

God, I’m exhausted.

Unfortunately, my body and mind have other ideas. Sweat slowly trickles down my back. The sheets are soft, but the blanket is sweltering. I kick to free myself and the stab in my stomach intensifies.

“Owwwww.” What happened to me?

A wispy softness brushes over my forehead as I clutch onto the mattress to push the hurt away.

“Try not to move, I got you.” Talon’s gruff voice breaks into my thoughts.

“Maybe this will help.” Cool air blasts over me and the blanket is gone. I sigh in relief until recognition hits. Was that Grandma?

A loud beeping screeches, jolting me fully awake.

My vision is blurred and vertigo washes over me, my stomach convulsing. I cry out, causing a new ache as my lip throbs.

“Jesus, baby, stay still.”

My head pops up, my vision clearing as Talon’s worried face comes into view.

“Talon?” I croak.

“Here, sweetheart.” A straw is thrust in front of me and I suck eagerly until it’s whipped away. “Not too much, just sips for now.” Grandma places her hand on my forehead and breathes out. “I think the fever has broken.”

My eyes dart to Talon, and I realize I’m half-sprawled across him. It wasn’t the mattress I was clutching, it is his chest. My gaze lands on the tube attached to my inner elbow, an IV leading to a bag of clear liquid. Dad, Grandpa, and Chase crowd the end of a hospital bed.

“What—”

“Shhh, talking will irritate your throat.” Grandma pats my cheek. “You gave this old lady a scare. I lost ten years of my life when I got the call.”

I rack my brain for any explanation.

I woke up at four a.m. feeling off. Stomach turning, head pounding, chills, hot flashes, shaky and weak. Called into work and went back to bed. Got up to let Wolf out and get a drink. My glass slipped out of my hand.

That’s the last thing in my recollection.

“Why am—” I rasp and Chase hands me my phone.

“Don’t talk. Text me what you remember.”

I type it out quickly and send. He scans it over, then reads aloud for everyone.

“Talon found you unconscious on the living room floor. When you didn’t respond, he brought you here to Vanderbilt.

I was waiting in the ER. Upon arriving, your fever had spiked to one-oh-five and your pulse was dangerously low.

You were convulsing, still unresponsive. They performed a gastric lavage?—”

I throw my hand in the air, bulging my eyes to my brother and his damn medical lingo.

“You had your stomach pumped,” he illuminates. “Which is why you have stomach and throat discomfort. Your tongue may be swollen, too.”

Discomfort my ass! This shit sucks.

I shoot off a text to him.

Talon’s arm circles my shoulders. He takes my hand, lacing our fingers, and kisses my knuckles. All my irritation evaporates. It’s all I can do not to melt into him.

Stomach pumping is a bit extreme, isn’t it?

Talon grumbles, reading the message I send.

“Having absolutely no fucking clue what was wrong, it was my suggestion,” Chase endorses. “Scared the shit out of me.”

“Scared the shit out of all of us,” Dad rumbles.

For the first time, I notice how tattered my grandpa looks. His dark eyes are trained on me, the lines on his forehead deeply furrowed, his lips pursed.

“I’m okay,” I mouth to him.

His expression fills with warmth as he squeezes my foot. Then he aims his gaze to Talon.

The reality of this situation hits me full force and a squeak escapes.

My grandma, my grandpa, and my DAD are all here.

Talon’s next to me.

I’m curled into him in a bed wearing my pajamas from last night. He’s wrapped me close, holding my hand.

He kissed my knuckles.

Not only that, but not one person is fazed by this fact.

He picks up on my freak out, his lips curling. “We’re acquainted.”

“Yes, we are.” Grandma’s tone is dreamy.

“Very well acquainted after watching you sleep attached to him.” Dad’s voice isn’t so dreamy. It’s more of a curt complaint. “The boy won’t leave your side.”

I can’t help but giggle at him calling Talon a boy.

The light activity reminds me of the soreness in my throat. Which brings the issue crashing back.

What’s wrong with me?

Chase reads the text and sighs loudly.

“What?” I mouth.

He takes another breath and I brace for the worst. “Did you eat peanut butter for dinner last night?”

I nod.

“Your love of peanut butter just took a dive.”

“Why?”

“We did a full blood panel and nothing stands out. All your labs are great. But your body was fighting off something fierce. We’re working on a theory you had a reaction to the peanut butter in your stomach contents.”

“But—” I begin to argue when Chase goes on.

“It’s not unheard of for people to develop allergies later in life. It’s not a hundred percent, but we have to weed it out.”

I slink back to Talon’s side.

A smear of red catches my attention, and I bring our linked hands to his shirt, eyeing him curiously.

“Some of it’s from your lip. You bit through it when you collapsed. The other is from Wolf.”

At this, I bolt back up, tears forming as the blood pressure monitor goes crazy again. “Wolf?” I picture the worst.

“He stepped in the glass, but he’s fine. Ford took him to the vet. His paw is wrapped and he’s currently enjoying an afternoon of babying from the girls.”

I assume he’s referring to friend’s wives. Then my heart swells knowing he took care of my dog.

“Ford and Rowan will watch him tonight, too.”

My head jerks, eyes narrowing. “Why?” Whispering doesn’t hurt nearly as much.

“Because you may be here tonight. I called in a few requests and we’re running more tests,” my brother relays.

I lift my hands palms up. Didn’t he just say I have a peanut allergy?

“The peanut butter allergy is a working theory; it’s not confirmed. The Immunologist on call is doing a broader panel. We were waiting for your fever to break and for you to wake up.”

I blow out an exaggerated breath, falling back onto Talon’s shoulder. The movement triggers the vertigo and the water in my stomach threatens to reappear.

“Take it easy, Squeak,” he commands.

I crack an eye, glaring and hoping my brother gets the hint. Not only is he using my ridiculous nickname, he’s being bossy.

“I agree with your brother,” Talon pitches in. “Take it easy, your body went through a lot. You’re being loaded with fluids and watched for another reaction. The fever didn’t break for hours. This is the best place for you tonight.”

Grandma steps closer, covering our joined hands with her own. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

I glance down and catch the splotches on my shirt.

“She’s fine,” Talon responds.

“You will feel better after we get your face washed and teeth brushed.” She ignores him.

“Then clear the room and I’ll help her,” he counters brusquely.

Oh no, he cannot go head-to-head with my grandmother.

“I’ll be fine,” I try to appease them, internally grossed out that my clothes are probably soiled with vomit.

“Nonsense, let’s get you cleaned up,” Grandma goes on, pulling at my hand. “It’ll only take a few minutes to have you feeling a little more human.”

“I’ll handle it. Clear the room,” he says more cogently this time.

“Talon,” I whisper, squeezing his fingers.

“Not leaving you, Princess, so shut it.”

Great, now I have bossy Chase and Talon. I rear up, ready to give him reason but Grandma beats me to it.

“Men, clear the room, Talon and I are seeing to Willow.”

No one argues, but Dad gripes as they clear out.

“Talon, be a dear and bring her to me.” Grandma swings a bag over her shoulder.

“Please don’t piss her off,” I plead when she’s in the bathroom.

“Baby, I found you unconscious and unresponsive. It will be a long fucking time until I forget that.”

“That’s stupid, it’s my grandma. And we know what’s wrong.”

“There is a Goddamned theory ,” he spats the words. “I couldn’t wake you. You scared the motherfucking shit out of me.”

His eyes burn with fear and something else.

Something beautiful… heart-rendering... powerful.

My insides twist in a way that has me gripping him again.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re weak and vulnerable to something out there that made you almost die.”

Did I really almost die?

“I see it’s registering now.” He swings his legs over the side, gently taking me with him and careful not to shuffle my torso. With expertise, he disconnects the tube from my IV and the blood pressure cuff.

“How do?—”

“I’ve had my fair share of time with IVs.”

His reply jars me, a reminder of his history and so much I don’t know.

“I can walk,” I say when he stands with me in his hold.

He doesn’t reply, carrying me to the bathroom where Grandma is waiting.

“I’m outside the door.” He places me on my feet. “Yell when she’s done.”

Once the door shuts, she spins around with a gleam in her eyes and a wide grin. “I love him!”

“Shhh!”

“No shushing me. I do. I adore this man. Thank God he’s not your patient anymore and you can finally be together…” she blathers on, but the words are drowned out by the ringing in my ears. Only one thing she says sticks.

I press a finger to her lips to quiet her, then rinse out my mouth with cold water, gurgling a few times to try and soothe my throat. There is still burning, but I push through it. “What do you mean he’s not my patient anymore?”

There’s a flicker in her gaze and she gives a little head nod. “Talon will explain.”

I start to push but my reflection catches my attention. All my questions evaporate as terror sinks in. “Oh my God, I look horrid!”

My skin is pale with little pink blotches popping along my cheeks and forehead. My hair is matted and tangled, resembling a true rat’s nest, the ponytail gone. One side of my lip is swollen with a bump that has a speck of deep crimson, surrounded by a purplish bruise.

“Talon saw me like this?” I whisper-shriek.

“You should have seen yourself a few hours ago. There’s a reason we were all frightened.”