The discharge from the hospital happened in a blur of hushed tones and clipped orders. Roman hadn't left; he had simply moved to the shadows of the hallway, watching as Elena handled the paperwork. When the nurse finally wheeled Jay to the sliding glass doors, it wasn't a taxi or Jay's own car waiting it was Roman's black sedan, idling like a dark beast in the morning mist.
"I can go home, Roman," Jay rasped as Roman helped him into the leather passenger seat. His throat felt like it had been scraped with glass, and his head was still heavy from the antihistamines. "I don't want to be a burden."
Roman didn't answer until he had closed the door and slid into the driver's seat. He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. "You aren't going back to your apartment, Jay. Not for the next three days."
Jay blinked, confused. "Then where "
