Page 61 of Dash

“Which hospital is he in?” I’m moving, searching for socks and my trainers.

“You can’t go there. Nate and Mace have locked us down because it’s not safe. They don’t know who was behind the attack.”

“What hospital, Ivy?” I repeat. I’m not fucking sitting here while he’s lying in a bed without me.

“County, but Dayna, you should wait for him to call. He’ll tell you when it’s safe to visit.”

“Yeah, thanks, babe.” I hang up before she can say anything else, before she can argue. Because there’s no way in hell I’m waiting for that call.

My stomach is in knots and it feels like there’s a chain around my throat as I slip into my trainers and grab my keys.

The front door takes a frustrating amount of tugs to get it to latch and just when I’m about to set fire to it, the lock catches.

I don’t have money for a taxi or a bus. So I shove my hands into the front of his hoodie and I pound the pavement like my life depends on it.

My guilt eats me alive.

Please let him be okay.

When I reach the main entrance of accident and emergency, I’m vibrating with terror.

The waiting-room is heaving, every available seat occupied, and the smell of weak coffee permeates the air.

I blink against the fluorescent lights, too bright. Too much.

A baby is crying somewhere behind me, and the low hum of voices is like needles to my brain.

The receptionist glances up as I approach, her curly hair wild softening her face.

“I’m looking for?—”

Shit. I have no idea what Dash’s real name is. Between fucking each other senseless, it’s never come up.

The woman is staring at me, waiting, and I don’t have the first fucking clue what to say to her.

“Okay, this is kind of embarrassing but… so I’m really in love with this guy, which is weird because I’ve never been in love in my entire life, but I’m pretty sure I’m falling head over heels for him, because, well, he looks likehim. If you saw him, you’d understand.” I shake myself. “Anyway, he was supposed to come over tonight and he didn’t, and I thought he was dumping me but was just too much of a coward to say it, so I’ve sat at home all night eating chocolate like some kind of garbage chute. But it turns out he’s in the hospital. So now, I have an extra three thousand calories on board and a sugar headache mixed with intense guilt and I have no idea if he’s alive or dead.”

The receptionist stares at me. “What’s the name?”

“Okay, so now, I’m really going to embarrass myself because even though we’ve been having sex for weeks, I don’t know what his name is. I mean… I know what everyone else calls him, but I don’t know what his real name is. Would it help if I described him?”

Her eyes narrow just a fraction. “Do you know what injuries he was brought in with?”

“No.” I’m debating phoning Ivy to ask the embarrassing question of ‘what is my boyfriend who is not my boyfriend’s name’ when I spot a guy wearing the same kutte as Dash’s. He steps through the doors that lead to the treatment areas, eyes everywhere in that same vigilant way Dash does.

I forget the receptionist and rush over to him. “Hey! Wait!”

When he turns towards me, my instinct is to drift back. He looked huge from across the waiting area, but this close up, he feels it too. It’s like the air around him molds to him. I swallow hard and keep my feet from drifting back.

“Are you with Dash?” I ask.

His eyes are glacial when I ask that. “Who are you?”

“I’m—”How the hell do I explain?“We’re together. Kind of. It’s new, but he was supposed to come over tonight and he didn’t, and then Ivy phoned me to tell me that he was in the hospital but?—”

“You’re Dayna.” He cuts me off.

I snap my mouth shut. It’s not a question. He’s not asking. He knows who I am, which means Dash has told him. He’s not… hiding us.

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