Page 115 of Bishop's Queen

CHAPTER THIRTY

The germicide smell of hospitals made Ella sick, and she itched to leave. Her room made her anxious, and the lack of Manny updates exacerbated that tenfold. Bishop and Locke hovered in the room like two ginormous, out-of-place soldiers in a dollhouse made for tender, breakable things. Their glares were hardened and angry, and their conversations were whispered back and forth, except when they were telling her to get back into bed.

“Can everybody stop fussing over me?” Ella barked at Bishop and Locke. “Because I am done with this! Done. Done.Done!”

Locke took a step back, and Bishop took a step forward. But neither said anything.

“Nothing is wrong with me.” Her irritation level reached an all-time high at that very second. “Manny was the one who was hurt. Hurt because ofme. I get that he’s going to be fine, but I’m already fine. I have a few bumps and bruises. I have a headache, which I’m sure is from stress more than being run over by Manny’s van.”

Bishop crossed his arms, apparently none too thrown that she kept insisting on the truth. “You didn’t cause that.”

“Bishop’s right, Ella,” Locke repeated.

When these two decided to stick to a script, man,they did. They never deviated and never stopped pushing their agenda.

She turned puppy-dog eyes to Bishop. “Can you get me out of here?”

“Not yet.”

Maybe they would work on Locke. “I’m appreciative for the checkup. But I don’t understand the holdup.”

A nurse walked into the room—the same nurse that had read Ella the riot act before.Shit.

“Observation, Miss Leighton. I thought that we had gone over this, but if you need to review it again, I would be more than thrilled to do so.” Her tone said anything but. The woman didn’t like her; that much Ella knew.

Locke’s eyebrows bounced, and Bishop barely stifled a laugh.Jerks, all of them.

“Observation, I understand. Can’t one of them observe me? They’re paid a lot of money to make sure that I don’t drop dead. And I’m still alive.”

Bishop grumbled, and Ella took a mental note. Bishop was taking this hard, placing blame on himself as much as she was, maybe. “You guys know what I mean.”

“I’m sure they have other things to do,” the nurse said.

“That is literally their job. They are doing it here, and they can do it anywhere.” She turned to Bishop and Locke. “Surely you two people have enough pull with”—Ella gestured wildly—“whomever to get me released from here.”

Both of them twisted their mouths and tilted their heads as though she were right, but neither of them made any move to comply with her wishes. Maybe there was another way.Hello!

“Release me against medical wishes, or whatever it’s called. Either way, I’m out of here. I’ll just hitchhike my way home.”

Bishop’s brow furrowed. “You’re not hitchhiking anywhere.”

Locke just shook his head as though he were glad he was secondary on her assignment. Truth be told, she was probably not the easiest person to work security for.

She laser focused her attention on Bishop. “I will hitchhike all night, searching for big rigs and gas-guzzling trucks. Does that tell you how bad I want out of here?”

“Christ, come on already. Can’t you just chill and relax? Listen to what you’re supposed to do?” They faced off in a staring contest until Bishop blew out his frustration. “What do we have to sign to get her out of here?”

As though the nurse had been prepared for the conversation, she picked up a clipboard from the end of the bed, which she refused to sit on, flipped the pages, and handed it over. “Sign where marked. You’re leaving against medical advice.” She clucked her disapproval. “Good luck. I’ll give you a printout of what to be aware of. If those things pop up, come back to the emergency room.”

Ella scribbled her name where indicated. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sure you will.” She waited for the signatures then walked out of the room.

As soon as the door shut, Ella stifled a thousand comments about how she was fine and that everyone’s overreactions were causing her more issues than what had happened. “I’m not sure why she was hell-bent on hating me.”

Bishop grumbled. “People either love you or hate you, babe. We’re here because you’ve enraged a tree hugger.”

“Ella.” Locke worked his jaw back and forth. “First answer that comes to mind. Don’t think. Just answer. Who is it?”

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