Page 3 of Hounded

“We’re at the hospital.” I reached for him again. “You’re sick.”

He swatted me away. “Bullshit. I’m not sick.”

I recoiled, welling up with fresh tears. The doctors stepped back, too, from what must have been a sight. Indy was 5’6” and petite, small-boned like the fiery bird that he was. I towered nine inches over his head and was more than able to face him down or restrain him but, in this moment, I felt small.

“Indy,” I tried again, my voice a croak.

He spun toward the staff members, his hands fisting. “Who are you people?” he demanded.

They looked at me, perplexed.

“He… he doesn’t remember things,” I said. “It’s a side effect…”

Of what? Immortality? That was not a truth I was prepared to reveal.

When I touched his arm, Indy shoved me back. “Get the fuck away from me!”

“We may need sedation,” the doctor murmured softly enough that I shouldn’t have heard, but my hound’s ears picked up everything.

“No, you don’t,” I urged, feeling hot and cold all over.Panic and sorrow pulled like tug-of-war, leaving me stuck in a miserable middle ground. “Please don’t do that. He’s scared, is all.” I stood like a wall with my back to Indy, worried he might bolt out of the clinic and half-hoping he would.

Despite my protest, the nurse retreated through the door, swiping a keycard and eliciting the mechanical beep that made me flinch.

“Indy.” The doctor pressed forward again. “You need to calm down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he snapped.

I wanted to carry him out of here. Overflow with apologies because this was my fault. I shouldn’t have brought him. I knew he didn’t want this, but I was afraid. We both were.

The nurse returned with a syringe in her hand. Two male orderlies flanked her.

Turning, I grabbed Indy’s shoulders and pinned his gaze with my own.

“I love you,” I told him.

He forgot so many things, but I needed him to remember that.

Indy’s brows dropped, and he shrugged me off. I was surprised he didn’t punch me.

“I don’t even know you!” he shouted.

The orderlies brushed past, cutting into the narrow space between Indy and me.

I was panting again, choking, strangling.

The two men overwhelmed him, grabbing him and trapping his arms to his sides.

He kicked out, hitting one in the shin. The orderlystaggered, and Indy bent then lurched forward to headbutt the man in the gut.

With a whooshing grunt, the orderly fell to the floor.

Everything was a scramble then. The injured orderly surged to his feet and rejoined the fray with the doctor right behind him. It took all three of the men to shove Indy into a chair and hold him down while the nurse stabbed the syringe into his bicep.

I spun away, hugging my arms around my middle and squeezing my eyes shut. Hot and cold and fear and panic and deep, dark dread ate at my insides until I felt hollow.

He would never forgive me for this.

When I opened my eyes again, the waiting room was vacant and so, so quiet.

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