Bad Love: An Alpha's Regret (Leah and Aaron) novel Chapter 41

Chapter 41 

It’s a bit like a jail break. 

Only I’m leaving the hospital. 

Brian wheels me out into the hallway and we look both ways. 

“You ready?” he asks. 

I fight a smile. “Let’s do this.” 

He wheels me to the left and toward the double doors at the end 

of the hallway. 

I’m sure there are follow-up visits I’ll have to schedule and a whole slew of paperwork to sign myself out of here so the hospital isn’t liable for anything. But I just don’t care about playing nice anymore, or about playing by the rules. 

Where did that ever get me? 

He pushes me out of this wing and I sh oot a fist in the air in 

victory. 

He laughs and picks up the pace until we’re almost running-well, he’s running, I’m ‘rolling’ to the elevator bay. 

There are some nurses hollering, “wait!” 

I cover my eyes as I’m wheeled in and the doors close. 

He punches the button for the ground floor and the elevator starts its descent. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say. I twist my neck and glance up at him. “I can’t believe you’re here. This is all so surreal.” 

I’m about to have my first date-at my dad’s funeral. 

Tears fill my eyes. 

“Some things are worth waiting for, Leah.” He tucks my chin. “All right, this is the hard part. So, uh, try not to look too conspicuous.” 

I’m in a hospital gown. I still have the iv needle in my hand. My hair is a big, wild mess. 

I’ve got Thor pushing me around. 

“We’re definitely going to stand out.” 

“Just act normal,” he says. 

The doors open with a ding and Brian pushes us through the main area of the hospital. 

He smiles at the female guards on duty, thanking them for their time and help. Next up, we have to clear the billing department and there are additional guards at the end of this corridor. 

They’re even scanning wristbands, probably to make sure the patients are cleared and not dashing out without insurance or making payments. 

I hold my breath. 

“Just stay calm,” Brian whispers. 

“Do you have your paperwork, miss,” the older man at the door asks. He’s in his sixties. Dark hair. Bald. 

“I’m just taking my wife outside for a few minutes. She has surgery tomorrow. They’ll start prepping her in a few hours. Her room isn’t even ready yet.”