Page 148 of The Night Shift
Her breathing is slow and even. I think I smile. My fingers twitch at my side. I lift my hand, reaching to brush her hair back from her face —
Pain.
White-hot, blinding. A sharp, agonising jolt shoots straight up my arm. A broken, wretched sound tears from my throat before I can stop it.
Holly jerks awake instantly.
Fuck, fuck,FUCK!
I suck in a deep breath, blinking hard, and glance down at my hand that’s still resting in Holly’s palm.
Splintered wooden slats strapped against my fingers, strips of gauze smudged with dried blood, skin stretched too tight, bruises deepening into something ugly.
“You asshole, youscaredme!” Holly’s voice is sharp, but her touch is the complete opposite as she cradles my hand.
“What happened?” It hurts to speak.
She pauses whatever she’s doing with my hand, and glances up at me. “You don’t remember?”
I shake my head, trying to clear the brain fog. The last thing I remember is dropping her home, driving back to mine, entering my flat and finding…
No.
The memory hits me hard in the chest.
“Dog.” The word is jagged in my throat. I try to push myself up, but Holly’s hands are firm on my shoulders, pushing me back down.
“Where is he?” My eyes dart around the room, searching. “I had him, I swear, I did.”
Holly’s face looks small as she meets my eyes. “I buried him behind Parker’s building,” she says quietly. “I took a cab and came straight back. I didn’t want to leave you for long —”
“Buried him?” My vision blurs. “No, I fixed him.” I know, I did.I fixed him.
“You had him underneath your coat when I got here.”
“Why…why don’t I remember any of it?”
Holly isn’t looking at me anymore. “You were struck on the head.” Her tone is flat, matter of fact. “Your hand’s broken. It’s…quite severe.”
At first, I don’t understand why she’s saying it like that. There are more pressing matters to be concerned about. What the hell does a broken hand have to do with anyth— the realisation sinks, slow and heavy.
My hands are my livelihood.
Holly shifts slightly. “I don’t think surgery will be necessary, but it needs to be immobilized for at least a few weeks. After that, rehab to make sure everything heals properly. Six to seven months before you’ll regain full use.”
I don’t know what to say. I look down at my hand. “Did you do this? Fix it, I mean?”
Holly nods. “I couldn’t take you to the ER. They’d ask a bunch of questions about how this happened.”
“Right.”
Silence stretches between us. I don’t know how long we sit like that — minutes, maybe more.
Finally, Holly speaks again.
“I need to tell Parker about his cat,” she whispers.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say. “I’ll tell him.”
