Death by Devil's Breath

Author:Kylie Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-06-16T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Here’s the thing about having a crisis:

When it happens (and the way things were going, it seemed to be happening pretty regularly), most people can’t wait for someone to show up and fuss over them and hold their hands.

But when it happens to me, I’d rather just be left alone. I can handle things. On my own. I don’t need someone else butting in.

Especially when it turns out that someone is Nick.

The moment the curtains draped around my little cubicle in the ER swept aside and he swept in, I groaned.

“What the hell!” Nick marched over to the bed and sized up the situation with one pinpoint look at me propped up in bed and the blood-soaked bandage on my left arm. “What have you been up to?”

Like I said, I didn’t want coddling. But a little understanding would have been nice.

Maybe that was why even my gritted teeth didn’t stop me from adding a note of sickening saccharin to my voice. “Maxie, you poor thing! I came as soon as I heard the news. You must be in terrible pain. Let me get you a sip of water.”

Dumbfounded, he stared at me for a couple seconds before he got the message. “Oh.” There was a glass of ice water with the straw in it on the table next to my bed and Nick grabbed it. “You want a drink?”

I did. Desperately. I’d been alone in the little curtained cubicle ever since the paramedics scooped me up off the sidewalk in front of the Love Chapel and dumped me here, and that was . . .

I glanced around but there weren’t any clocks, and I wondered how long I’d been waiting for the doc who was supposed to stitch up the wound caused by the shattered glass from the fallen heart sign. My sense of time was warped, but then from the looks of things, I’d lost quite a bit of blood. I was woozy. Shaky. Thirsty. And more than a little scared.

I wasn’t about to admit to any of it. Especially not to Nick.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

He dropped into the chair next to the bed, and even though I didn’t ask for it, he put the glass of water up to my mouth and stuck the straw between my lips. “Drink.”

When the cool water hit the back of my parched throat, I closed my eyes and sighed.

“You’re not going to pass out, are you?”

I opened my eyes to find Nick’s face only inches from mine. “You okay?” he asked. “Do you have a concussion?”

I would have pushed him away if I’d had the energy. Instead, I shook my head. “How long have I been here?”

“I don’t know. I got the call . . .” Nick sat back and plucked his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “About twenty minutes ago.”

I wasn’t sure exactly where the hospital was in the scheme of Vegas geography, but believe me, when we arrived for

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