Oh god, I need to talk to Havok.
"I need to go to them." I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and wince at all the places that pinch harder.
"Not a good idea, sweetie. You haven't gotten out of that bed once since your surgery and you've been on nothing but a steady diet of liquid in a bag."
I yank the IVs from my hand and arm, much to Grace's dismay, then look down at the rubber tube between my legs. "Fucking catheter."
"Let me help!" she squeaks before I yank that out too. "I don't want you to hurt yourself, and Havok would skin me alive and use my fur as a rug if he knew I let you take out your own damn catheter."
So I endure a too-painful-to-be-awkward moment with Grace's head and hands between my legs, then attempt to get to my feet. I sway, kind of hard, and Grace grips my forearms for support.
"You sure you're not really a Dragovihk by blood?" She smirks. "You are just so fucking stubborn."
I smile a little.
Nope.
I'm a Dragovihk by mating, by choice, but I know exactly where I come from.
Fuck, I need to talk to Havok.
"We're in the clinic right?"
Grace nods. "Yes. Do you remember why?"
I roll my eyes. "Because Joyce fucking stabbed me in the gut. I remember what happened, Gracie, I just needed a fucking nap before I could get everything figured out."
She snorts and steadies me. "That was a long ass nap, sweetie. I've never seen anyone as distraught as Havok so if I were you, don't tell him you were napping. He'd probably be pretty pissed if that were the case."
Oh my heart.
"I won't. I have way too much other shit to tell him anyway." I take a few steps toward the door but Grace stops me. "We're just down the hall from them. I can smell Havok, feel his heartbeat. He's close so let's get a move on."
"Nope." Grace pops the P and shakes her head. "First of all, you are too weak to go marching into the war room in the middle of an interrogation, guns blazin'." She turns me toward the bathroom. "Second, your sweet mate has been diligently doing your PT, repositioning you to avoid any stiffness or sores, and giving you bed baths so you don't stink. And even though it makes him super swoony for doing it and not giving a shit that you stink anyway, you are going to take a shower to refresh a little."
I scowl as we hit the adjoining bathroom door. "I don't stink."
She giggles and pushes her glasses up her nose. "No but your hair is a matted, mangled mess in desperate need of something other than dry shampoo."
My heart melts. "Havok used dry shampoo on my hair?"
"Yep." Grace smiles. "Total swoon material."
I sigh. "I just want to see him, Gracie. I need to talk to him, but damn I missed him. Just let me go talk to Havok, then I promise I'll get a shower and go right back to bed until you and Henny give me the all clear."
"Not happening, sweetheart. Showering is good for you, it'll help with the stiff muscles you must not feel yet and it'll loosen you up for all the moving around. Plus"—she grins as she pushes me into the bathroom and turns me so my back is to the mirror—"your cute little butt is showing."
My head snaps toward my reflection and I gasp in mock horror. "How many people have seen this? I'm so embarrassed! Oh no, other people have seen my ass!"
Grace snorts, and shakes her head. "At this point only Henrich and I have seen your tush, but you know Havok didn't even like that despite the medical need for it. If I let you parade around in a hospital Johnny with your cheeks on full display he will lose his shit, and most likely blind every male in this house."
"Ok. Ok, fine. I'll shower and change first."
"Then eat something."
"That was not part of the deal."
Grace turns on the shower and sets out a few towels. "It’s my deal, Cora, and if you want to make it out of here and into that war room you will follow it to a T."
