T. Grey: Ties That Bind

She tried to let the poor boy know that she had insurance but her heart beat too fast and then her vision faded to black.

Lily came awake like she'd just been injected with pure adrenaline. She sat up in a flash, breathing hard, heart racing, her hands twisting in the sheets. Her eyes darted around the room trying to take in everything at once. White walls, white sheets, heavy brown curtain over the small window, a tiny TV mounted on the wall, electrical equipment made beeping sounds from the side of the bed.

“Damn it all to hell.”

Moving like an old woman, she carefully tossed her legs over the side of the bed and stood, keeping her hand on the bed in case her legs gave out. Her feet held steady and she stood up with only a little wobble in her knees. She took stock of her body with a rueful grimace. She wore a hideous blue hospital gown. Clear tubes came from her arm and white flat circular things were pressed against her chest. She gave a tug and tore the probes and IV out her arm and off her body.

A small dresser with three drawers sat across the room. She shuffled towards it and found her driving outfit folded inside. At least no one had stolen her clothes.

Clinching the paper-like robe in her fist, she lifted it off her body. She cursed again when she saw her body. Bright purple and blue bruises covered her from neck to hips with more violent contusions covering the span of her thighs and knees. She poked at the bruises and winced. Good thing it took more than a bad car crash to kill her. As long as she didn't do anything even more stupid she may even live to be as old as her papa did.

She pulled on her black leather pants, white tank top, and sexy leather driving jacket complete with zippers sewn in places that weren't necessary. It fit her like a second skin and made her feel like the world's biggest bad ass. She chuckled as she pulled on the clothes.

Looking down, she spied her bare feet. For a moment, she almost saw red. If someone dared to steal her shoes, they'd pay. Those black shit-kickers were her fave right next to her pink flip-flops. She threw open the rest of the drawers but found only empty space.

“Mother fuckers.”

As she walked to the door, her steps grew steadier, the feeling in her legs becoming solid as if blood has finally reached all the cells in her legs. She reached for the handle of the door but it swung open hard before she could open it. The door slammed against her face, crushing her nose.

“Are you kidding me!”

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn’t know you were right there!” a nurse said, squeezing through the door. She ushered Lily back on the bed and called for the doctor. She pressed a thick white towel gently against her nose to catch the blood. But all that did was push on her tender tissue. Lily yelped and slapped the nurse's hand away hard.

The woman looked surprised but backed up. A tall doctor with a good-sized bald spot on top of his head and thin wire-framed glasses came running into the room. He came and took the towel away, lifting her chin this way and that to examine the damage.

He lifted his hand toward her nose as if to touch it, and she actually snarled. “I wouldn't if I were you.” It felt like a grenade had exploded in the middle of her face.

His hands stopped in mid-motion, his jaw dropping. “Miss Bellum, I need to check to see if your nose is broken, if so then I'll have to straighten it.”

She shook her head hard then let out a cry as that only made her throbbing, bleeding nose hurt more. “No way. It hurts.”

“If it is broken and you leave it that way it can become infected and will not set straight. You will end up having a different looking nose for the rest of your life,” he warned in a firm voice.

Lily made a whining noise, then took a deep breath and slammed her eyes shut, hands fisting the sheets in a white-knuckled grip. “Do it, Doc.”

His touch was gentle but it still felt like he was viciously squeezing her nose in his hand like he wanted to strangle it. She gasped and couldn't stop the tears from spilling out her eyes.

“I'm not crying.”

“I know,” he said in a soft voice. “It's just a reaction to the pain. Okay, good news. It's not broken. But it’ll need a few stitches along the brim, and we can give you some pain medication.”

She grunted. “No, no pain meds. I don't do well with it.” She'd make her own pain remedy once she got out of here.

He fidgeted, his eyes blinking fast, and rocked on his feet. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes, according to our records you are a succubus.”

Lily narrowed her eyes on him. Most humans were cool with meeting others like her, though they still preferred to pretend that beings like her didn't exist. And for the most part, they all obeyed and stayed low. But some humans bordered on hostile and others were straight psychotic about killing anything stronger than them.

“Is that gonna be a problem?” she said using her best “Willow's voice.” The voice Willow used when she wanted someone to back the fuck up.

The doctor literally did take a step back, shaking his head. “No, no. We accept all ill or injured in this hospital. Equal opportunity and all that.” He picked up the clipboard sitting in a compartment at the end of the bed and pretended to read something on it. “Okay, I'll go get the nurse to stitch you up and then you'll be all set, Ms. Bellum.”

“Thank you,” she said to his retreating back.

Another nurse came and stitched her up. She offered her pain meds again.

“No I don't want that crap. But you can tell me where my boots are.”

The young nurse’s eyes widened. “What boots?”

Lily looked down at her toes and wiggled them. “The ones I came in with.”

Her head cocked to the side, lips pulling into a frown. “Ma'am, you didn't come in with any. That's not a surprise, really. Many cases we get where a bystander hit by a car, for instance, their shoes fly off from the impact.”

Lily thought about that. “But I was on my bike.”

The woman shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe they're at the scene of the crash,” she said hopefully.

“Yeah, maybe.” Was it a big deal? No, but she’d paid a pretty penny for those boots and had searched long and hard for just the right pair to go along with her sexy bad-ass jacket.

Stitches finished, she left the hospital and stood outside. The sun had set and the skies were clear from clouds. She looked down at herself with a sigh. She'd meant to go to him looking bad-ass and ready to take charge. Now her bruised body could barely handle having the weight of her leather clothes on because even those hurt. Her feet were bare of socks or shoes, but at least her pink polish looked fresh and cute. And to the put the icing on the cake, her busted nose had white crisscross tape covering it. So much for looking cute.

Her bike was toast, her phone that had been in her jacket pocket and was crushed during the accident, smashed to smithereens. She felt her back pocket and pulled out her wallet. Cash and credit cards still intact.

A young man stood by a pillar, sucking on a cigarette and yacking on his phone. Lily smiled and strode towards him. His eyes flicked to her, froze, then drifted down her body in an obvious survey. Lily lifted her chin a little higher.

“Excuse me, could I use your phone? Mine broke. I was just in a car accident.”

He blinked slowly, and then closed his jaw. Without bothering to say goodbye to whomever he spoke to, he hung up and handed it to her.

“You are so sweet. Thank you so much,” she said with a sugary smile.

He cleared his throat and attempted to speak to her several times as she dialed information, got the number for a taxi, and had one sent on its way in under five minutes. With another brilliant smile, she handed the phone back to him. “Thank you, darling.”