Page 22 of Ronen
“I mean, agoat? Honestly. It’s the equivalent of my dog ate my homework only more over the top.” I laughed lightly.
Hank wrote something in his little notebook, that I wanted to rip right out of his hands and stomp on. Did the man seriously think I had pushed Mason down the steps?
“Well, Mason does have a few critters, and his goat was ready to give birth, so,” he gave a one shoulder shrug, “it’s possible.”
Opening my mouth–because there was a lot there I felt I needed to question–I clamped my jaw shut with an audible click. Nope. We were not going down the goat road, or the critter road. Whatever that even meant. No sir, not happening.
Instead, I turned my attention back to Mason, who was now stretched out on a backboard, a C-collar stabilizing his neck. The EMT’s had been busy while Hank had been scrutinizing me.
“Hank, can we do this later?” I muttered, “Better yet, not at all? I didn’t push him. He was just…clumsy. I don’t know what happened, but it was an accident, okay? I mean, we have insurance, so whatever damage he’s managed to do to himself, we’ll cover it.”
More like I would cover it, because I didn’t want to bother putting this on the library and risk having our insurance skyrocket. We paid enough as it was, with the building alreadybeing so old. It wasn’t like I couldn’t cover some hospital bills out of my own pocket.
Besides, everything inside me wanted to rush over to Mason and assure myself he was going to be okay, and I didn’t think it had anything to do with how much the bill was going to be.
“How about something for the pain, Sheriff,” one of the EMTs asked.
Mason shook his head and tried to push himself up on the board, mumbling something unintelligible. Luckily, they had him strapped down tight. With the collar around his neck, he wasn’t going anywhere and he couldn’t move his neck to look anywhere but up.
He tried though, finally giving up and shouting, “Ronan, come back here!”
“I’m right here!” My voice sounded as exasperated as I felt. Hurrying down the steps I stood practically over him so he could see me. My hands itched to reach out and touch him, to push the hair back from his sweaty forehead, to ease the tight lines furrowed there.
What the ever loving fuck is happening to me?
“Stop bellowing,” I ordered, “You’re attracting a crowd.”
The EMT swiped a folded pad across Mason’s bulging bicep and with swift efficiency injected a needle there. Honestly, the only person I knew that had biceps as big as Mason’s was my pseudo uncle, Gabe Carmichael. But he was a bear shifter and worked construction. Mason was a cop, for Pete’s sake. He must be in the gym twenty-four seven, to get arms that big.
Mason’s face relaxed a few seconds after the shot, his brow smoothing out, a cloudy look coming over his pain filled eyes.
“Ohhhh,” he sighed, his words slightly slurred, “tha’s nice.”
The EMT laughed, “That was fast. Okay, Sheriff, we're gonna get you loaded up and transport you. You need that elbow and ankle looked at.”
“Brok…” He seemed to have trouble forming words, moving his tongue in and out of his mouth, in some bizarre way. Finally, he managed to garble, “Broken. Felt it…sna..snap.”
“Well, they’ll take some pretty pictures and verify,” she tossed a wink at him, and my blood boiled hotly.
Who the fuck did she think she was winking at my…my…nope. Not going there. She could wink at whoever she wanted, but it was quite unprofessional, and I had an urge to send a strongly worded email to her supervisor.
“Not that I don’t trust your opinion,” she told him, smiling broadly and still flirting outrageously.
Honestly, there was no need for her to be so…smiley and happy. This was a medical emergency. Did the woman have no decorum? Didn’t they have rules about flirting with patients?
Turning to Hank, she said, “We have room for one person to ride with him.”
Hearing this, Mason started blinking rapidly. Fearing something was truly wrong, I was about to tell Miss Smiley Pants that maybe she should stop flirting and give her patient some medical attention, when I realized that Mason wasn’t having a seizure after all.
“He’s my mate,” he slurred, fluttering his lashes at me. Was he batting his lashes at me? Was that what the fuck was happening with his eyes? “Him. Ride.”
For. Fuck. Sake.
Every single person that was gathered around us stopped what they were doing to stare at us. No, to stare at me.
“Well, this is an interesting turn of events,”Gigi seemed quite pleased with herself.
“How romantic!”Miss Rose crowed, clapping her hands.“Just think, Ro, if William hadn’t pushed him, who knows when you might have discovered you were fated!”
