“I am going to file an official grievance against the dean and Dr. Ellington. I don’t want anyone to think they chased me away and I gave up.”
Sed squeezed her hand. But she was giving up. Didn’t she realize that? And he couldn’t stand to see her this way. Defeated. He knew what he should do. Support her in her decision. Stand back and let her do what she thought she needed to do. Even though he was incapacitated in a hospital bed, it wasn’t in him to just take these things lying down. And normally it wasn’t in her, either. What was she so afraid of?
“I do think I’ll go to class tomorrow though. I really need to tell that bitch off. Publicly.”
There’s my girl. He welcomed that spark of fight in her.
“Even if I report them, I doubt anything will happen to either one,” she murmured. She glanced up at him. “Dean Taylor was right. I don’t have any credibility.”
Sed scowled. When had the dick told her that?
“Do you think it’s worth it? Should I even bother filing a grievance?”
Sed blinked emphatically. Or at least he hoped it look emphatic and didn’t look like he had bleach in his eyes.
“You’re right. I’ll go. I’ll never feel right about it if I don’t at least try to set things right.”
He smiled and blinked in agreement.
“I kind of like you this way,” Jessica said. “All placid and compliant.”
Don’t get used to it.
“I should leave you alone so you can rest.”
He blinked twice. Under no circumstance did he want her out of his sight. Now that they were officially a couple, he planned to take full advantage of her company.
Jessica scooted closer to him on the bed and stroked his stubble-rough cheek with the back of her hand. She leaned over and brushed her lips against his temple. His jaw.
“I can’t wait to take you home and pamper you. In every imaginable way.”
He was definitely up for some pampering and was already imagining every way.
Someone cleared their throat and Sed looked up to a gray-haired man in a white coat. His doctor, he presumed.
Jessica turned her head to glance at the doctor and then smiled down at Sed. “We’ll talk more later. Or rather, I will.”
Sed decided he liked it when she talked. He’d try to make an effort to listen more often. She kissed the tip of his nose and then moved away from the bed.
The doctor stepped closer to the bed. “I’m Dr. Jarvis—ear, nose, and throat specialist. I’ll just cut to the chase here. Mr. Lionheart, you can’t keep punishing your throat. All that growling and screaming has frayed your vocal cords and damaged the lining of your throat so badly that you tore an artery. An artery, Mr. Lionheart. I’ve never seen an injury like it. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been swallowing swords for a living. I’m putting you on a voice restriction order for a week. No talking, no singing, and definitely no screaming. After that week, you need to see a specialist again and hope there’s significant improvement. If you don’t give yourself time to heal, you might never sing again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Sed couldn’t breathe. He hadn’t realized how serious his condition was. He choked on the tube as panic squeezed his throat.
“Do you understand?” Dr. Jarvis repeated.
Gasping for air, Sed blinked once.
“We’ll take that tube out now and see what we have to work with.”
A nurse stepped up on the other side of the bed. She placed a hand on Sed’s forehead to ease his head back. “Relax, Mr. Lionheart. This won’t be pleasant, but it will be over quick.”
He tried to relax, but it wasn’t easy. As the tube was pulled free, it felt as if his throat was being turned wrong side out. And then it was gone. His throat felt tight and sore, but at least he could bend his neck. His first instinct was to try his voice, but the doctor already had a tongue depressor on his tongue.
“Open.”
The nurse scribbled notes while the doctor described what he could see. Didn’t sound good.
“I want him scoped this afternoon,” Dr. Jarvis said. “We need to take a better look at those cords.”
“Yes, doctor,” the nurse said.
The doctor met Sed’s eyes. “It looks better than I expected. Can you swallow?”
Sed swallowed, but it brought tears to his eyes.
“Take it easy. No talking. And soft foods only.”
Sed nodded. The doctor took the chart from the nurse, scribbled some additional notes, and then left the room.
Jessica moved to stand beside him and kissed his forehead. “He said it looked better than expected. That’s good news, right?”
He closed his eyes and nodded slightly. How could Sinners record their album next week if their lead vocalist couldn’t sing?
Chapter 46
Sed’s eyes eased open to Eric’s concerned expression.
“Ah good, you’re awake,” Eric said.
How was he supposed to sleep with Eric staring down at him so creepily?
“Let’s get out of here, buddy,” Eric said. “I’ve got your wheelchair oiled and ready to roll.”
His throat was on fire, but he didn’t need a f**kin’ wheelchair. “Wha—”
Eric’s hand blocked his words. “No talking. Jessica put me in charge.”
Where was Jessica? She’d still been there when they’d given him that sedative the night before.
“She said she’ll meet you at home. She went to do something at the University.”
Good. He hoped she clawed that professor’s eyes out. Sed used Eric’s arm to sit up in bed and then stood on wobbly legs.
“I hope you’re up to stopping by the studio,” Eric said, while Sed slipped into his clothes. “Brian and Trey are recording today.”
Sed’s heart skipped a beat. They were recording without him?
“We figured we better get some recording done before something else happens. Every time we try to work on the new album, one of us gets injured. First, Myrna’s ex-husband smashes Brian’s fingers, then Trey’s head injury, now you’ve gone and blown your throat out. Jace and I are afraid to get out of bed. I think the new album is cursed.”
Sed grinned. “Superstitious much?” The raspy sound of his voice surprised him.
“Hey, no talking.”
“My throat doesn’t feel too bad.” It hurt to talk, but wasn’t unbearable. As for screaming and singing, Sed had no plans to do that today. Perhaps tomorrow.