“What the fuck?” I was sure that was me speaking, but it sounded slurred and rough like I’d been out drinking all night. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that, so maybe I’d drunk too much and fallen down?
“Don’t do that, you’ll fuck up your IV,” the female voice that meant the world to me admonished, gently pulling my hand away from the pain.
I probably should’ve done that myself, but having that much assault your body at once confused the shit out of your common sense.
“They got the bullet out of your shoulder, Garrett, but it did some damage—like bullet’s do, duh—and is all bruised.” The duh made me smile slightly because that was just Tamsin’s personality perfectly, even when she was telling you that you’d been shot.
“The doctor said they were going to do some binding stuff just to give it time to heal. They only just brought you through from recovery about twenty-five minutes ago, so I think they’ll be coming in any minute to do it.”
Blinking against the harsh light shining on me from the window, I realized I was in a room I didn’t recognize.
And it fucking stank.
“Don’t be mean. This is what a clean hospital should smell like.”
I’d said that bit out loud, then.
“Yeah, you did. A lot of patients do that after an anesthetic. It’s kind of funnier when it’s not someone you care about, though.”
I wasn’t sure what we’d gotten up to the night before, none of my memories were making sense. Then again, it didn’t feel like my brain was making a whole lot of sense in general. Whenever I tried to take control of it and say something, ask something, or even move my limbs, nothing happened.
“You’re on a lot of pain medication, but the good news is that your tattoo worked, and they didn’t give you a volatile anesthetic. Don’t get me wrong, for the surgery they had to do, they worried that you’d wake up without it, but in the end you were okay. That doesn’t mean you’re not hopped up on some serious pain medications, though, my guy. Your body has to be feeling like cooked spaghetti and your brain like a colander.”
Pretty much! Well, apart from my side and shoulder, obviously.
Tamsin’s nervous chattering struck a chord with me, but her descriptions were pretty spot on.
The sound of something squeaking broke the brief silence, and then a voice I didn’t recognize spoke. “He’s awake? Damn, I thought he’d sleep for at least another couple of hours after all of that. How is he?”
“Not saying much, well unless it’s what he’s thinking, but he knows from the pain not to move again.”
This time, a different squeak, the sound of shoes on a shiny floor, followed, getting closer to where I was lying staring at the ceiling tiles above me. I’d never understood how they did these ceilings.
Did the metal skeleton for it come that way and they attached it, or did they have to get long strips and crisscross them? If that was the case, did some chump stand there with a ruler making sure they got the dimensions just right? And why didn’t they just put a regular ceiling in?
“Well, I can answer one of those questions. Having the tiles makes it easier for them to lift to get to the wiring above it. In buildings like offices and hospitals, there’s always something they need to get to, so it just makes it more user friendly for them to get the job done,” the male voice said, just as a face with dark curls surrounding it appeared next to me. “Yeah, inherited them from my mother. I used to hate them when I was younger because all the girls pulled them or wanted to touch them, but now the women love them.”
Frowning, I turned to find Tamsin again, hoping she’d introduce me to the guy. I knew way too much about his hair and not one damn thing about who the shit he was.
When I saw how pale she was, the dark shadows under her eyes, and the tear tracks down her cheeks, though, my focus shifted off him completely.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice sounding like I’d itched where my tonsils once were with a toilet brush or like I’d been gargling acid.
It was enough to have noises of sympathy coming out of them and to make me wince, which ended up with me groaning at the pain in my shoulder and chest, then groaning again at the pain in my side from where my muscles had tensed when I’d done it. That made more noises come out of me, and I tried to move my arm to hold the area again… It was a painful, hellish, agonizing circle.
“Stop moving,” she squeaked, lurching forward to stop my arm moving just as I lifted it.
“She’s right, Mr. Evans. Until we’ve put the bindings on to immobilize your arm so that your collarbone can heal, moving that arm is a no. You also have a bullet wound in it that we operated on only hours ago. You were a very lucky man that it didn’t hit anything major, so let’s not tempt fate and open it up, hmm?”
Glancing at him, I asked, “What?”
Looking away from the machine he’d been watching, he frowned. “Well, tearing it opens it up to infection. It also means we’d need to repair the damage that does to it. You might also bleed heavily, and after—”
“I know what opening up a wound does, Doc,” I snapped, shifting to sit up and deciding immediately not to. “What I want to know is why I have one to begin with.”
The increase in the beeps showing my heart rate on the machine indicated what effect the sounds of crying coming from Tamsin now had on me, and also made my head jerk to the side to look at her. This time I ignored the pain as much as possible, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the machine burst into flames with how fast my heart rate was.
“Your blood pressure’s a bit too high, Mr. Evans,” the doctor warned. “Take some deep breaths and try to relax, or I’ll have to ask Miss Waite to leave the room.”
The fact he used her real name didn’t register, but not taking my eyes off her, I growled, “You even try to do that, and I’ll shove that machine up your ass. No offense, Doc, but my girl crying will always be a priority.” Then, turning my hand over so that the palm was facing the ceiling, I moved it all of two inches across the bed, indicating that I wanted hers.
Looking from it to the doctor, she reached over and gently laid her hand on top of mine. “Don’t be mean to him, honey. He’s only looking out for you.”
“I’ll apologize to him in a minute. What’s wrong, pretty girl?”
I’d never seen anyone look more tormented than she did at that moment, as steady rivers of tears fell down her cheeks. “It’s all my fault,” she croaked, sobbing silently. “He shot you because he was trying to get to me.”
Flashes of images struck me hearing those words, but not one of them made sense. The skeleton of the house, the land we’d bought, I was saying something to her on my knees and watching her eyes change color with the sun.
It was pretty damn romantic and idyllic, so how did it go to shit?
Then I remembered a bang and being hit in the shoulder by something.
Needing a moment alone with her to make sure she was okay, I tightened my grip on her hand and turned toward him. “I’m sorry for threatening your ass hole, Doc. Can you do what needs to be done so that I can have some time with Tamsin? I hate seeing her cry and her blaming herself for this when my job isn’t exactly risk-free…” I trailed off, watching as understanding filled his face.