Page 167 of My Fake Dating with the Grumpiest Highlander
Mary.
She’s breathless, dusty, hair falling out of her ponytail.
She’s beautiful.
“Finn. We need to talk.”
My heart jumps.
Then immediately crashes.
“About what?”
She exhales slowly.
“Finn, listen…”
A sharp scream cuts her off.
It comes from the training arena.
I grab my medical bag before I even think.
Mary takes off running, and I follow.
Chaos erupts inside the arena.
A man is lying on the ground surrounded by a crowd. A throwing hammer rests several feet away, its handle split in half.
“Move!” I shout, pushing through the people.
The man is conscious but groaning in pain.
His left arm bends at an angle arms should never bend.
Fracture.
I kneel and assess quickly.
No external bleeding. No visible bone through the skin.
Closed fracture. Probably radius and ulna.
“Don’t move,” I order. “What’s your name?”
“Dylan.”
“Okay, Dylan. I’m Finn. I’m a doctor. I’m going to take care of you.”
I pull out supplies.
Splint. Bandages. Pain medication.
Mary kneels beside me.
“What happened?” she asks the crowd.
“The hammer handle snapped during the throw,” someone answers. “He lost his balance.”
