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“No.” I shook my head as I replied. “She had good parents. They loved her.”
“Do you know them?” Cat perked up, her round eyes full of hope that I had to crush.
“No. They died before we met, but you cared for them. A lot. And I got the impression they were good to you.”
“It’s something that should be corrected,” Rodregez added.
“How do we do that?”
“Surgery.”
“She needs heart surgery?”
“Yes, but because of the heart attack earlier today, we have to wait at least six weeks to perform any surgery.”
“But she’ll be fine in the meantime?”
The doc paused, his mouth silent in the eerie room, where the only sound was the irritating as fuck ticking coming from the clock that looked too big for the wall it was set on.
“We need to keep her stress levels as low as possible, and in my opinion, as soon as we can, we should do the surgery. She has already suffered a heart attack, Remi. It’s important to remember the severity of that.”
As if I thought of it as anything other than serious.
“I don’t know how it went unnoticed, but it shouldn’t have. And, to me, that’s concerning.”
It was more than concerning to me.
“As is that gaping hole in your stomach, which also should not have gone unattended for so long.”
“Fine.” I pulled my T-shirt over my head, peeling it from my skin where it stuck to me from the blood. “You can do it here. I’m not fucking leaving her again.”
“We need to do a scan to check for an internal bleed.
“We both know I don’t have an internal bleed, Doc. If I did, I’d be dead by now. I’m good. I haven’t vomited, nor am I nauseous. My skin isn’t clammy and still has the golden glow it always has.” I smiled like the cocky fucker I was.
“That’s the Italian heritage, Remington.”
“Just stitch me up, if you will. And get that spray for my ear.”
Gentle caresses landed on each tattoo that covered my torso, and my eyes followed the fingers. The black and white shaded bears, some in bandages, some looking like they’d seen better days, with blown black pupils, some just looking totally unhinged, had stolen Cat’s attention.
Cat always had a thing for stuffed bears, even the terrifying ones that looked like the panda head that now rested on the pillow behind her.
“When can we do her op? Did you say six weeks?”
“Around Valentine’s Day.”
I nodded, knowing I’d fuck off my gig for her.
I placed my tee at her feet and leaned back, giving Rodregez room to work in a space he wasn’t happy to work in.
“This is hygienic.” His sarcasm didn’t affect me. “She’s having her lunch.”
“I don’t mind,” Cat answered before I could.
He sighed heavily. “Very well.”
Before I knew it, Rodregez had sprayed me with something and cleaned the area, and his needle was in and out of my skin, stitching it back together with his surgical thread.
