Page 17 of Slap Shot Daddies

"Not happening," Braden interjects firmly as he steps out of the car and stretches leisurely, his posture relaxed yet resolute. "ER wait times are hell. We’re not leaving you alone." His words hang in the air, a promise not to abandon her.

Kenzie lets out a dramatic groan, her expression a blend of annoyance and resignation. She massages her temple with her uninjured hand, trying to ease the tension building in her head.

"Do you want us to call someone?" I offer, my tone deliberately casual, though my eyes remain fixed on her, scrutinizing her reaction.

Her expression flickers momentarily, like a ripple across still water. It's subtle, but I catch it: a fleeting grimace, a momentary hesitation before she regains her composure.

She shakes her head with a firmness. "No. Definitely not my parents. They’ll freak out, and it’s nothing." Her words are dismissive, yet something in her tone betrays more than she intends to reveal.

That's… interesting.

I cast a quick glance at Braden and Reggie. Their eyes are fixed on Kenzie as well, the same curiosity mirrored in their expressions.

They noticed it too.

We remain silent, a shared understanding passing between us, but as we step inside, I mentally tuck that reaction away, a puzzle piece saved for later contemplation.

CHAPTER FOUR

Kenzie

I pushthrough the swinging ER doors, my hand pulsating with a sharp pain and slick with the warmth of my own blood, seeping through the towel Ambrose hastily wrapped around it.

Behind the front desk, a nurse looks up with a glance of practiced indifference that transforms into shock as her eyes land on the crimson-stained towel, the blood slowly soaking into it.

Her eyes widen with urgency. "Triage. Now."

In a blur of motion, I’m swiftly guided through the double doors to triage. The boys attempt to follow, but a nurse raises a firm hand, barring their path. "Family only."

With a mischievous grin, Braden pulls Reggie and Ambrose into a loose embrace, his voice full of playful defiance. "We’re her devoted brothers."

I can’t help but snort, shaking my head at their antics. "You are not."

The nurse raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism, but ultimately, she gestures for them to enter.

I’m gently placed on a narrow cot, my fingers pulsating with a fiery pain as another nurse carefully peels back the towel.

She clicks her tongue in disapproval, her eyes assessing the damage. “That macaw really did a number on you.”

She sets to work, meticulously cleaning the wound, the stinging bite of antiseptic causing a searing pain that makes me wince. Her movements are precise and practiced as she prepares the needle and sutures.

I watch her intently, then, driven by instinct, blurt out, “You might want to use a horizontal mattress stitch instead. It’ll hold better and reduce scarring.”

The nurse pauses, her eyes narrowing with a mix of amusement and challenge. “Oh? You have a medical degree I don’t know about?”

I manage a grin despite the throbbing. “No, but I do have two doctorates. One of them is in veterinary medicine.” I let out a small, pained chuckle. “I stitch things up for a living.”

She exhales heavily, a sigh of resignation mingled with respect. “Do you want to do it yourself?”

The boys sense the tension in the room and, naturally, decide this is the perfect moment to distract me from my thoughts.

Reggie leans forward with a mischievous grin plastered across his face, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Tell me, Doc, what’s the worst injury you’ve ever had to stitch up?”

I feign deep contemplation, tapping my chin in mock thought. “A cow’s uterus,” I reply nonchalantly.

Braden nearly chokes on his laughter, eyes wide with disbelief. “I’m sorry, what?”

“C-Section,” I explain, shrugging slightly, trying not to wince as the nurse deftly sticks me with the needle. “The calf had to come out one way or another.”

---