Page 56 of Bolo's Curveball
I cringed as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I didn’t need her offended glare to tell me that had been a fucking stupid thing for me to say. But she didn’t look like she felt well. Her skin was pale, there were shadows under her eyes.
“I’d be mad at you if I had the energy,” she informed me, then stepped aside so I could come into her apartment.
At least she hadn’t slammed the door in my face. “Sorry. I just meant-”
She waved a hand at me, interrupting my apology. “I know. I made the unfortunate mistake of looking in the mirror this morning.”
It was noon and she was in sleep shorts, that left her long, sexy, legs bare to mid-thigh, and an over-sized t-shirt.
“Did I wake you up?” Worry was starting to take over for my surprise.
She sighed and rubbed her fingers on her forehead. “I was dozing. I don’t feel good.”
The way she said the last statement made me want to gather her up and make it all disappear. Her defeated tone had my protective instincts flaring to life. I reached out and cupped her cheek. Frowning, I flipped my hand, checking her temperature with the back of it. “I think you have a fever, Baby Girl.”
She blinked slowly at me, looking like she was halfway in a trance. She definitely wasn’t feeling well.
“Back to bed,” I told her, motioning to the hallway that led to her bedroom. “I’ll grab the thermometer and some supplies and meet you there.”
She didn’t argue, she just turned and walked back to her room where she crawled into bed. Keeping an eye on her room as I moved around, I went into her bathroom and grabbed a few things. Not that I really knew what I needed. I just grabbed the shit Mom had always come armed with whenever we were sick as kids.
Sitting beside her on the bed, I dumped everything on the night stand. “Open up.”
She obeyed, and eyed the different medications as I popped the thermometer in her mouth. “I don’t think I can take any of that,” she mumbled around it.
“No talking.” I frowned when I realized she was probably right. The list of shit pregnant women couldn’t take was way too damn long for me to remember. “Give me a second.” I pulled out my phone and hit a number. “Hey. Can you get Drifter up here? Something’s going on with Dev.” Strike grunted something then hung up on me, so I knew they’d be up here about as fast as I had been.
The thermometer beeped and I glowered down at it as the number flashed at me. “You have a fever.” It was a low one, one hundred point two, but that couldn’t be good.
She just laid there on the bed and stared at me as though this wasn’t a shock to her. She had said she felt like shit. Well, not exactly in those words.
“I’m having Drifter take a look at you,” I told her. “Then we’re going to the hospital.”
She frowned, confused. “Why would we need to go to the hospital?”
“You have a fever.”
“Yeah?”
“And you’re pregnant.”
“So?”
“We’re going to the hospital.”
“I don’t think a low fever is what you go to the emergency room for, Bolo…” She trailed off at the look on my face.
A knock at the door saved me from arguing with her. We’d save that for later when I insisted she see a doctor. It didn’t matter what Drifter said, she was going. I just wanted him to reassure me that I didn’t need to drive at Mach Jesus to get her there. “It’s open!” I called out.
Drifter appeared in the doorway, carrying the duffel he always had with him. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Devyn said, giving him a tired smile. “I’m just feeling a bit under the weather. He’s over reacting.”
“She has a fever,” I announced.
“Okay,” Drifter said, taking in all this information with a neutral expression. “Move.”
I got off the bed and let him sit next to Devyn. Crossing my arms over my chest, I started pacing around the room. Drifter had told me before that when dealing with women the husbands tended to be a burden to him, or when treating children, themothers. More than once he’d had to subdue a husband or parent just to be able to treat his patient. Later—definitely not now—I would understand why. I just wanted to shake him and yell, “Fix her!”
