“No,” I say immediately.
Mac turns to me. “Sweetheart, you should go,” he says.
I shake my head, wincing at the sore muscles. “I’m fine. IknowI am,” I add firmly. “I don’t want to go to hospital. I’m just so cold,” I say and shiver again.
“That’s shock,” the doctor says and smiles at me. “If you’re set on not going to the hospital, I’m going to request that someone stays with you tonight.”
“I will.” Mac’s determined voice startles me.
“You don’t like that,” I protest, too overwrought to be careful with my words.
He winces. “Please don’t say that.”
“Well, it’s the truth.”
He strokes one finger down my cheek. “Thatwasthe truth. I’ll stay.” He turns to the doctor, his manner all business. “What should I do?”
The doctor talks him through it in a low-voiced conversation. They try to include me, but I’m drifting again.
There’s a sound to my left, and I look up to see Julian. He has a mug in his hand. “Tea,” he says, his face white and set. “The doctor recommended you drink this. It’ll make you feel a bit steadier.”
I try to take the mug, but my hands are shaking. Julian bites his lip, worried, and he crouches beside me. “Let me,” he says gently. I nod, and he holds the mug to my mouth like I’m a child.
I take a sip and wince. “Too sweet,” I say hoarsely.
“The sugar’s for the shock. Drink it, and you’ll feel better.”
Mac steps over to us. “The doctor’s given me a prescription for a painkiller, and one of Fox’s staff will get it filled.”
The doctor, who’s in the process of packing his bag, looks up and nods. “You’re going to hurt tomorrow, Wes, so I recommend you take it. The dose will be on the packet. For tonight, I’m sorry,but I’m just recommending a light over-the-counter painkiller. Mr Reilly is going to stay with you to keep an eye on you.”
“I haven’t got a concussion,” I tell him. “I’ve had one before, so I’d know.”
“Just to be on the safe side. He needs to watch for any worsening symptoms such as vomiting or a worsening headache.” He huffs. “I’m making a strong suggestion that the police should be called but I’ll doubtless be overruled. I know the club rules.”
“No police,” I say immediately. “Absolutely not.”
Mac jerks. “Are you sure? I’ll make that happen in an instant if it’s what you want.” Julian looks at him in astonishment.
“No police,” I say firmly. Mac hesitates, looking at my face for a long moment. Then he reaches out and touches my nose gently and turns to the doctor. “I’ll abide by Wes’s wishes.”
The doctor inclines his head in resignation. He pats my shoulder. “I do feel everything is fine, and apart from a few bruises, you should be fine, Wes. However, you will need to talk to a professional about this incident. Assault is not something to be taken lightly.”
“I’ll get someone to see him,” Mac says immediately.
“I don’t need to,” I say.
He looks haggard in this light and years older than he did a few hours ago. But his eyes soften as he gazes at me. “It’s up to you, but let’s see how you feel later,” he says gently. “Are you okay to stand up?”
“I’m fine,” I say stoutly.
“I’m sure you are, sweetheart, but humour me.”
I stand up, relieved to find my legs feel a little bit more like they belong to me. I feel a little better from the tea—less shaky and empty.
Mac is instantly at my side but hesitates before taking my hand. “Is it okay for me to help you up the stairs?”
“Where are we going?”
