Over the Flames by Nichole Severn

Author:Nichole Severn [Severn, Nichole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nichole Severn Books, LLC

Chapter Seventeen

Florescent lighting and the smell of disinfectant aggravated the headache at the base of her skull. Latex-covered fingers probed at the soreness and bruising around her throat as Arden slowly recounted tonight’s events to one of the deputies standing a few feet away. After a few minutes, rawness turned her every word into nothing more than a long-winded wheeze. Until her senses signaled Lawson’s presence at the edge of the drawn curtain. A sudden awareness flared— nothing but a thin fabric gown stood between her and the man who’d run straight into the dark to find her.

“Ms. Olsen has had a long night. I’ll get the rest of her statement after she’s had a chance to recover.” He patted the deputy on the back and came within the perimeter of her hospital bed. Tugging the curtain completely closed, he sealed himself inside as the doctor finished her examination. Bruising marred his handsome features around his left eye, evidence of a physical fight with Brent Hayward stark on his knuckles. His gaze locked on hers, Lawson folded his arms across a clean shirt. “How’s she doing, Doc?”

A disbelieving smile brightened the attending’s warm, brown skin. “Unless you’re family, Agent Mitchell, you’re not getting anything out of me about my patient.”

“She’s my wife,” he said.

Arden’s heart jerked in her chest.

The small prick of hope behind her ribcage blossomed from a lie. Calling her his wife was nothing more than an attempt to get information about the damage sustained during the attack, something he could use against Brent Hayward when charges were officially filed. The implications of that simple twist in words didn’t mean a damn to him. She had to remember that.

The attending’s rich, dark eyes raised to hers for confirmation, and Arden nodded.

“All right, then. Your forensic techs have collected her clothing and samples from her fingernails and hair.” Sitting up straight, the doctor rolled back on her stool and peeled the gloves from her hands. Dark, textured hair fell over her white coat as she noted something into the digital chart in her lap. “There doesn’t seem to be permanent damage, but it’s hard to tell with the swelling right now. We’re going to have to wait a few days to get a better look at her vocal cords.” She looked up at Arden and handed her a business card. “We’ve already run a CT scan. There’s no sign of head trauma, so we won’t need to keep her overnight. All in all, she’s lucky her attacker didn’t apply more pressure. I recommend taking it easy, talking as little as possible, and a whole lot of ice, but I can tell by the way you’re fidgeting that you’re not going to listen to me. If the pain persists, call me. Don’t play hero and try to suffer through it. And you, Agent Husband,”—the attending stood, confronting him—“you’re in charge of making sure she listens to doctor’s orders.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lawson maneuvered out of the way as the attending pulled back

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