Page 139 of Fixation
A tear trickles down my temple, landing in my hair.
Only Anderson. Only Anderson can help me get better.
23
ANDERSON
Atwenty-four-hour shift with three emergency surgeries is enough to drain any person.
I barely had a moment to eat or sleep, let alone spy on Harper.
She’d been there, though, in the back of my head. Always.
During a coronary angioplasty for a man who suffered a heart attack.
While I’d been asking Nurse Elliot for a scalpel. I’d been scrubbing in, performing surgery and thinking of her the whole time.
I couldn’t wait to be with her. In the shower. In the basement. In her bed. Anywhere would do.
Missing her had been a relentless itch I couldn’t scratch. Like fire beneath my skin.
A vampire. Bloodsucker.
And I gladly handed my throat to it, to her.
With her sweet voice still echoing in my head, I can finally let myself fall asleep. I’ll visit her when I wake up.
I’ll take her.
The noise of screeching of bicycle brakes reaches my bedroom on the second floor.
Then athump.Someone’s dropped to the ground.
I’m in bed, wearing a pair of sweats and nothing else. Halfway to dreamland. Doesn’t matter. I push myself to a sitting position and get up.
“Motherfucker,” I curse under my breath.
This infuriating thing in my chest, my fucking conscience, is the one calling the shots. Pulling the strings, foregoing my need to sleep.
I need my strength. Need to be sharp. For Harper.
But I did kill too many people. I do need to redeem myself.
I shrug on a white T-shirt and shove my feet into my boots.
Sergey texted me during my shift. Said he was back in town. That we’d talk soon.
Maybe it’s him? Maybe he’s trying to break into Harper’s house?
When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I grab my stethoscope on instinct. On the way out, I slip my cell phone into my sweats pocket just in case.
I flip open the first lock on the door. The second.
I’m about to flip the last.
Knock, knock, knock.
So soft. I wouldn’t have heard it had I been in any other part of the house.
