Page 26 of Ronen
Since the needle was in my hand I needed to shake with, I gave her hand a half-hearted squeeze. “You too. What’s the damage?”
She glanced over at Jamie, then asked, “Are you okay with me speaking in front of Jamie?”
“If I say no, are you just going to look anyway?” I gave Jamie a questioning look.
Because I doubted me saying no was going to deter the man if he wanted to know something. He probably had ways to gather any information he wanted, some of them likely not legal.
Jamie grinned, but there was little warmth in the smile when you looked too closely. “That would be against the law, Sheriff, and I try my best to be a law abiding citizen.”
Looking away from his cold eyes, I sighed. “It’s fine.”
Why did it feel like Jamie was watching me like a shark circling prey with blood in the water?
Chapter Nine
Mason
Dr. Farrell pulled up some images on the iPad she held in her hands, pointing out a clear break in my ankle.
“The good news is you won’t need surgery to repair the damage, but we will need to cast it and you’ll be out of commission for…” she paused, hitting a few things on her iPad. “Hmm, I see you left your shifter orientation blank the last time you were here, about six months ago.”
Looking up from the screen, she arched one brow in silent question.
Shaking my head, I told her, “Just put a boot on it. It will be healed in a week. No need to go to the trouble of a cast that will just have to come right back off.”
“It would be helpful to have a clear course of treatment if I knew what kind of shifter you are. I can better evaluate your healing time. I don’t know of any shifters who heal as quickly as a week.”
Feeling Jamie’s penetrating stare on me, I pointedly ignored him.
“Just boot it. It will be healed in a week,” I repeated. “I can sign something if you need me to, not holding you or the hospital liable if it’s not.”
Wouldn’t be the first similar form I had been forced to sign, and likely wouldn’t be the last.
Dr. Farrell pursed her lips together into a thin line, and I knew she wasn’t happy about me playing doctor. Or not revealing my shifter species. But I knew my body, and I knew how fast I would heal. While most shifters healed faster than a full human did, my DNA was superior to other shifters and healed three times as quickly.
“Not going to tell me?”
“Prefer not to, no,” I said quietly, meeting her stare straight on.
She gave a shake of her head. “That is your prerogative, of course.”
Being in law enforcement, I knew it was. Nearly a hundred years ago, shifters could be forced to state their species, but a law passed about forty years ago made it illegal to demand it. If someone didn’t want to reveal their shifter species, they didn’t have to.
“I’m going to trust that you know what you’re about. But,” she pointed her pen at me and shook it, “I want to either see you back here in a week to check it or you go see your regular doctor.” She consulted my chart once more, mumbling, “If you have one.”
“I’ll come see you in a week, I promise.” I assured her, because even with my super-fast healing properties, there wasstill a chance I could do damage to it that would need to be repaired.
That seemed to satisfy her well enough. “Your elbow is only bruised, and while we were almost certain when they wheeled you in that you were suffering from a concussion, the tests show you aren’t.”
Feeling heat across my cheeks, I murmured, “I’m not good with pain medication. My body doesn’t metabolize it well. It makes me…”
“High as a kite?” she supplied, a small smile on her lined face.
“That,” I nodded.
“In that case, do you want a milder pain pill to take at home, or do you think you’ll be good with over-the-counter stuff?”
“I’ll just pop some ibuprofen if I need it.”
