Mackenna woke to the familiar sounds of beeping and monitors, and she groaned. As she tried to lift her hand to her head, she felt weighted down and moaned with frustration.
“My love, if you had wanted me to come home, all you had to do was ask. There was no need to plunge yourself headfirst into a table,” Alessandro’s soft words were whispered near her ear.
She couldn’t help it and she started to cry at his gentle teasing. Why was he here? Her eyelids flickered as she tried to focus but everything was fuzzy.
“Hey Mac,” Savannah’s voice was professional, “you’re going to be pretty groggy. You did a number on your arm, and you lost a lot of blood. You have nearly fifty stitches in your arm and a solid concussion. You hit the metal frame of the table pretty hard.”
“Oh, the area rug,” she
