Chapter 6

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A shrill ring startles me awake, my heart slams into my ribcage. I jerk up and blink my eyes hard. Frantically glancing around the room, expecting to be met with my tormentors. It takes a moment before my mind registers an obnoxious sound as my new ringtone. That needs to change. I shiver at the basic bell chime sound, aggravated with myself and night terrors. I reach out for the bright device as it vibrates across my smooth nightstand. This ringtone will drive me mad.

The random number that flashes across the screen; the numbers roll through my memory before coming up with nothing. Spam call? Probably not, I want to growl as I lay back down on the bed. I push away the wet pillow and place my free hand on my stomach to calm my frazzled nerves. Being yanked from a night terror with a phone call never makes a good wake-up call. "Yes?" My voice comes out raw and scratchy, worn with sleep.

"Is this Angel - Dr. Smith?" It had to be a work call. I release a shuttered sigh and stare at the ceiling.

"Yeah, how can I help you?" My mind still hasn't registered the voice; with my groggy state, it's unlikely it will. I glance at the clock and glower, it's barely eight in the morning. I wanted more sleep. Needed more sleep. My restless sleep wasn't adequate in the least.

"You stitched me up last night; the hospital said you had the day off?" The masculine voice makes my heart stutter as I let my head drop back onto the pillow. I attempted to think back on yesterday, I had a few surgeries. Two that were male, one that was female. I'm going to mark the woman off the possibilities. I'm positive I only gave my card to one of the two. I'm finally left with my answer, aren't I Sherlock Holmes?

"I'm going to guess you have a reason to call, other than a polite conversation?" I'm rewarded with a chuckle; well, isn't that nice for him, why can't I sleep in for once?

"This is Axel Woods." The sound of his name has his case reopening in my head; easy to remember what was done in surgery. I hoped he'd at least wait a few days before he popped something open.

"Oh, ok. What did you do?" If he's calling me, I really doubt it's for some kind of fantasy booty call or something equally enthralling. Like he'd want my mess.

"Well, I popped a few stitches." A yawn slips out before I can formulate a response.

"You should probably go get checked out for internal bleeding. I don't have a portable CT scanner." Not like I'd be able to travel with the damn thing; my car can't exactly transport it.

"That's not an issue; if you think it is, I can come up with something. Can you come and help me out, Doc?" Rubbing my eyes, I force myself to sit up. It's not like I'm going to be going back to bed. How freaking fun.

"Alright, where am I going?" I don't want to. My hands throw the crinkled covers off of my body as I stand and head for the bathroom.

"Have you heard of the Reaper's Dig?" I want to smack myself as I give a silent nod. Use your words, genius.

"Yeah, I know where that is. I'm guessing you'll be inside?" A loud sound slips over the line, followed by cursing. What on earth is he up to? I'm not sure I want to know what opened up his wounds, nothing smart I'm sure.

"No, I'll be waiting for you in the garage next door." He's got to be kidding. Did he even try to keep it sterile? I'd be absurd to think he kept them dry. Rolling my eyes at the thought and the carelessness to it all; I want to shake a few of these people. Why can't they just follow orders?

"Alright, I'll be there shortly. Try to keep pressure on the open wounds." With those as my parting words, I hang up. I rummage around for some clothes, and find a pair of dark skinny jeans, white undershirt, and a denim button up. Simple and cute enough. Grabbing clean undergarments before I head for the bathroom. I know it's slightly dressy, then again I live in scrubs, it's easy to get dressy. It's not like I get to go many places; sue me if I want to look cute when I get the chance. Who am I trying to pick a fight with? I like to look presentable, not like some run down hick at least.

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