Melindas Wolves (31 page)

“How is he?” Will asked.

Melinda struggled to come to her feet with Marcy’s help.

Trace did the same on her other side.

“He’s stable. We can’t be sure how extensive his head injury is yet. He has a concussion and he’s getting a CAT scan now. Then we’ll know more. He has a broken arm and several lacerations on his arms and legs. Nothing that won’t heal.”

“But he hasn’t woken up,” Melinda said. Her body trembled again. She had to fight to keep tears from running down her cheeks.

“No.” Dr. Bernard turned to face her. “But it’s early. The fact that he isn’t conscious doesn’t mean anything at this stage. It could be his body’s way of healing. I see it all the time.”

I’m sure you also see patients who never wake up
.

Trace grabbed her hand and squeezed. He would have heard her thought. She did nothing to block it. She also let him hold her fingers without yanking away.

Dr. Bernard continued. “I’ll let you know more as soon as I can.”

Melinda stared at the kind man. His brow was furrowed in concentration. He reached for her shoulder and squeezed.

That was when she realized he was lupine. She hadn’t paid any attention to that detail until the moment he looked in her eyes and then switched his gaze to Trace’s.

“I’m sorry I don’t know more right now. Talk to him.”

Dr. Bernard knew she and Trace were his mates. Of course. And his sympathetic touch and kind words meant the world to her. How fortunate to have a doctor who would understand their plight, comprehend their ménage on some level, and knew the importance of ensuring Keegan shifted as soon as possible.

She blew out a long breath as the doctor returned to the bowels of the hospital.

Trace still held her hand. He turned to square his body with hers, drew her hand up between their bodies, and squeezed it against his heart. With his other hand he cupped the side of her face and tipped her head back. His eyes were sad, watery. He swallowed hard and set his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I thought I was protecting you. I shouldn’t have taken away your choice. I love you with all my heart.

And so does Keegan. We’ll get through this.
Keegan
will get through this.”

Tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

Trace swiped the closest track away with his thumb. “I will fuck up sometimes. So will Keegan. But it will never change how I feel about you.”

She licked her lips, still staring at his eyes. They were in their own world, a tiny cocoon, mumbling in hushed tones. Keegan’s parents had stepped away at some point.

“Don’t ever make a decision like this for me again.”

“Swear it.” He tightened his grip on her hand so hard she could feel his chest beating. “Never. I’ll make other mistakes, but not this one.” He gave her a half smile.

She sucked in a breath on a hiccup of emotion. And then she wrapped her free arm around his waist and pulled him closer. “It was dumb and inconsiderate.”

“It was.”

“I’m still kinda mad at you.”

“You’ve earned that.”

She bit her lip on one side and furrowed her brow. Her voice dipped lower. “I need you. I feel so alone. I can’t stay angry at you because it hurts too much.”

“Thank God.” He released her hand and tugged her in closer.

She closed her eyes and spoke to Keegan, including Trace.

To a human it would have appeared they were praying. And in a way they were.

But it was so much more.

“Keegan. Come back to us. Fight. We need you.”

Trace rocked her gently back and forth, burying his face in her neck. His tears dripped onto her skin.
“He’s gonna be fine, hon… He has to.”

The following day was long. Trace sat on one side of Keegan’s bed while Melinda sat on the other. Neither of them slept.

The CT scan had shown no signs of permanent injury. Melinda had never been more relieved in her life. Now, if only Keegan would wake up.

Keegan’s parents never left the hospital either. They came in and out of the room, giving Melinda and Trace privacy to draw their mate out of his head. Keegan’s sister came for a few hours in the morning.

Melinda knew instantly Kiera was an amazing woman. She couldn’t wait to get to know her better under less stressful terms. And her son too. She didn’t bring him, but he sounded like a pistol to hear his mother and grandparents speak of him.

Trace’s parents came by briefly, but didn’t stay long. Griffen showed up for a while also, looking thoroughly exhausted, which made them all tease him mercilessly and lightened the mood for a brief spell.

So many people loved Keegan. But none of them loved him like Trace and Melinda.

And all of his visitors understood this, making a quick visit and leaving Melinda and Trace alone to fight alongside their mate.

And fight they did. They kept a running commentary going with Keegan almost incessantly. When the man did regain consciousness, it would be to tell them to both
shut up
and let him get some rest.

The doctor came in several times, more than he would have if Keegan had been human. “There are no signs of anything besides a concussion. Please don’t panic. His body is using this time to heal.”

“If he would just wake up and shift, he wouldn’t need this human intervention,”

Trace said.

“True, but he doesn’t know that. His body is controlling him, doing what it needs to give his brain time to regroup. We aren’t in panic mode here,” Dr. Bernard insisted.

“This is perfectly within the range of normal after a concussion like his.”

Melinda cleared her throat. “When do we start to worry?”

“Not gonna answer that. Focus your energy on encouraging him as best you can.

Let’s not address the future. Let’s deal with the cards we have now.” The man was far too optimistic. Almost sugary in his presentation.

Melinda wasn’t sure she liked that side of him. She turned back to Keegan and rested her cheek on his right shoulder, leaning over the bed. His left arm—the one across from her—was in a temporary cast. The bones were all aligned. And he would easily be able to shift and heal the fracture. Unfortunately, he would also have to pretend it had not healed for six weeks.

She almost giggled, thinking how much Keegan was going to like that plan. Too many humans knew he’d broken his arm. For it to heal in a few days would raise eyebrows off the charts.

“He’s so cold,” Melinda murmured after the doctor left.

“You must like the change,” Trace teased. “You’re always complaining we’re too hot.”

The problem was he didn’t feel alive to her. He felt off. Wrong. Not present in a way she detested.

Melinda closed her eyes and snuggled her face in next to his neck. She needed to rest a few minutes before she collapsed.

 •●• 

Something wasn’t right.

Keegan could not get his brain to work. Any command he sent to his limbs never made it through the synapsis to cause movement.
What the hell?

He couldn’t figure out what to make of this situation. Was he under water? Or drunk? Drugged?

Nothing made sense.

He concentrated on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. He had that task mastered.

Something warm and heavy was draped over his right arm. Something stiff and uncomfortable trapped his left arm.

He tried to fight his way through the fog to find answers.

His eyes wouldn’t obey the simplest command to open.

“Keegan. We’re both here with you, babe. Please wake up.” That sweet voice belonged to his mate, Melinda. What was she talking about? Her soft fingers gripped his hand as he realized she must have lifted her face away from his arm.

Keegan strained to open his mouth, but got nothing. Agitation set in. What the fuck?

“How’s it going in here?” The voice was deep and unknown.

Trace responded. “He’s flinching. His eyelids are flickering. That’s a good sign, right?”

What? Keegan tried to pry his eyes open. Nothing.

“Yes.” The unknown voice got closer.

The next thing Keegan knew, his eye was pried open and a light flashed in front of it. A man hovered over him. “Keegan. Can you hear us?” He paused. “You’re in the hospital. You’re going to be okay. We need you to wake up now.”

Keegan wanted to do just that if for no other reason than to get answers about why he was in this position in the first place.

It was too much. He couldn’t get any part of his body to obey his commands. The voices faded.

Melinda’s lovely tone slipped away, her fingers still wrapped around his, her other hand stroking his brow.

God, how he wanted to see her.

Why was her voice growing so faint?

Too hard…

 •●• 

Keegan bolted awake as though he’d had a nightmare. One second he was in the middle of a sensuous dream starring his naked mate straddling his middle while his other mate leaned over her shoulder, a look of pure lust on both their faces. The next second he was wide awake.

His heart pounded. He was too hot. His body was heavy.

Keegan widened his eyes and scanned the room. A hospital. He remembered someone mentioning that earlier.

Melinda still had a hold on his hand, but her head was resting against his shoulder, her eyes closed, the deep breaths of sleep slipping past her lips.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful. And then his gaze landed on Trace across the room. He must have been resting also, his body slumped in a moss-green leather chair. As Keegan stared, Trace jumped up, his mouth spreading in a huge grin. “Dude, you scared the fuck out of us. Welcome back.”

Melinda jerked awake at the sound of Trace’s voice. “Oh my God.” Her face beamed. She cupped Keegan’s cheek. “You’re awake.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His voice was deep, gravelly, and his throat hurt as if he hadn’t had anything to drink for days.

Melinda giggled. “It’s you. It’s really you?”

“Who did you expect?” He furrowed his brow, which sent pain radiating across his forehead. He groaned and lifted his right arm to touch his face. “What happened?”

Trace leaned his hip on the bed. “Do you remember the scaffolding collapsing under you at the casino site?”

Keegan shook his head, regretting the move instantly. “Fuck. My head hurts.”

Melinda smiled. “You have a concussion.”

“Why on earth did you bring me to a hospital?”

“You were buried in the rubble for a long time. You were unconscious and unresponsive.”

Right. That made sense. For one thing, an ambulance would have simply taken him to the hospital without the paramedics having any idea he was a shifter. And for another thing, being a shifter was only useful as long as the person was conscious.

There was no way for an unconscious wolf to shift.

“Get me out of here,” he mumbled. Pain tore through his left arm as he tried to lift it. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, it’s broken,” Trace said.

“And they didn’t put a cast on it?”

Melinda leaned down and kissed his cheek. “It was your lucky day. The doctor in the ER was a shifter. And he’s gonna get us out of here too.” She grinned.

As if on cue, the door to the room opened, and a man in a lab coat walked in. He beamed when he saw Keegan. “Ah, good, you’re awake. Your mates were starting to drive me crazy.” He winked as he grabbed Keegan’s chart and flipped through the top pages. “I’m Dr. Bernard, by the way. You ready to spring this joint?”

“Two minutes ago.” Keegan moaned as he tried to sit up. “What’s the damage?”

“Two ribs, humerus, concussion, a few facial lacerations. Nothing you can’t fix at home.” He set the chart down and nodded toward the door. “I’ll have an understanding nurse bring you a wheel chair. Try not to moan and wince as she gets you out the door. Call me if you have any concerns.” Bernard handed Trace a card.

And then he was gone.

It was that easy. But only because the man knew what Keegan needed most—to shift as soon as possible and sleep for two days at home.

He struggled to sit up. Trace grabbed his arm to assist. “How many people know the extent of the damage?” he asked as he swung around on the bed, his legs dangling over the side, his hand grasping Melinda’s shoulder.

“Your parents were here until late last night. When the CT scan came back, indicating you hadn’t suffered any significant brain damage, they finally went home,”

Melinda said. “They’re lovely people.” She smiled.

“I mean at work. How badly do I have to pretend to be injured when I return?”

“Probably just the arm. Everyone saw that compound fracture. You were limp and unresponsive though, so no one would be able to suspect anything else.” Trace rounded the bed. “I’d milk the concussion for as long as possible, however.” He chuckled.

“Sounds great, but what about the construction site. Was the scaffolding issue considered a random accident?”

“It seems that way,” Trace said. He blew out a breath. “I don’t get it. Mitch issued a statement indicating there were some issues with the original foundation as a result of the earthquake. He told the media those problems would be resolved as soon as possible so construction could resume. I watched him on the news while you snoozed all night.”

“Seriously?” That seemed doubtful.

Trace shrugged. “I assume his goal was to keep the masses from getting hysterical. I doubt there’s any merit to his statement. He did get the media to back off. That was undoubtedly his intention.”

Keegan nodded. Made sense. “Have you spoken to him?”

Trace shook his head. “No. I assume he’s been very busy. And I’ve been a little preoccupied myself.”

“Holding vigil over a sleeping man?” Keegan smirked.

Melinda swatted at his upper arm, heedless of the break. “Don’t joke about this.

You could have died. I was worried sick.”

“She wasn’t alone.” Trace set a hand on Keegan’s shoulder and gripped it firmly just as the nurse wheeled a chair into the room. A blessedly lupine nurse.

What luck.

Melinda tiptoed into the bedroom for the millionth time the following afternoon.

Keegan hadn’t moved. He was sprawled out in wolf form on the mattress right in the middle, looking for all the world like an overindulged puppy. His head even rested on a pillow.