Page 35 of Wolf
I wake up the next day in the recovery room to find out that Rose is in serious condition. I ask the nurses, and my doctor. There were complications. They aren’t explaining much to me. They want me to rest. How can she still be under for a shoulder wound? I was shot in my chest and above my collarbone, and I’m the one who’s already in the recoveryward?
For hours and hours, I stare up at a spot on the ceiling above me. The monitoring equipment I’m connected to threatens to lull me back to unconsciousness as I wait for word on whether her condition hasimproved.
Nobody’s talking. Not the nurses, not the physicians, not even the fucking orderlies here in the private hospital I checked usinto.
I quickly grow tired of the lying around. A day of rest and recovery is double what I’ve had on the field for worse injuries. Turning off the power to the monitors, I remove the IV needle in my arm, and rip off the leads tracking my vitals. It takes some effort, but I put on my clothes and slip out of theroom.
Rose has to be somewhere aroundhere.
After checking for a while, I find her in one of the small recovery rooms at the end of the hall. Her red hair isunmistakable.
I wait a few minutes for the nurse that’s with her to leave, then I go inside. I’m winded as I take a seat, dropping heavily into the guest chair beside her hospital bed. Some of this heaviness is from the anchor of guilt weighing me down. That last attack at the cottage wasn’t for her. It was meant for me. She was fine in the cottage for seventy-two hours. I’m the one who got sloppy and led that company man right to us. She was almost collateral damage because of mycarelessness.
My chest is throbbing with pain as my meds wear out, but it’s nothing compared to what’s clenched around my heart. I look at the vitals on the monitor. They’re up and down, refusing to stabilize. I know Rose is strong. If anyone can pull through from an injury and complications, it’s her. But that knowledge does nothing to console me. I should be in that bed. If I could change places with her, I’d do it in aheartbeat.
I take her small, lifeless hand inmine.
“Don’t stop fighting, Little Red,” I whisper. Her skin is so cool to the touch that I keep looking back at the monitors. My heart races when her pulse drops, and eases when hers is in the normal range. I want to pour what’s left of my strength into her, but I can’t. All I can do is sit here, holding her hand, hoping she hears me cheering her on, hoping her body and mind hold on. I won’t rest until she opens hereyes.
“I’ll be right here when you wake up,” I say more firmly. “I just found you, Rose. Don’t you dare giveup.”
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and hold my head up with one hand. Every time my eyes close, I force them back open again, fighting off the images of her getting shot, her body jerked to one side. The blood that spilled, the two of us on that dusty wooden floor, teaming up to fight back. All of that was preventable. I caused this mess, and it fucking kills me that I can’t clean it up or fix it for her. Ending Murphy’s life felt like a victory at the time. His death will spare many other lives, but it won’t mean a damn thing if Rose can’t live one day without a fucking target on herback.
“Sir, you’re not supposed to be here,” says the nurse who returns to theroom.
“We’re together,” I tellher.
“We can work through those details later, but you’re in no condition to be out of bed.” She presses the call button and comes to my side, then points down at my chest. “See what I mean? Your bandages are soaked with blood. If you keep this up, the doctor will have to remove those sutures and open you upagain.”
“I don’t fucking care. Helpher.”
Two orderlies enter with a stretcher for me. It pains me to go, but the nurse is right that the sooner I heal up, the sooner I can be back at Rose’s side. I want to be the first face she sees when her eyesopen.
Giving her hand another squeeze, I let the two orderlies lift me onto a stretcher and wheel meout.
She has to pull through. I won’t be able to live with myself if shedoesn’t.
22
Rose
Someone needs to turn that shitoff.
The repetitive beeping of what sounds like four out-of-sync alarm clocks seem quiet and far away, but gradually becomes so loud that it’s almost unbearable. I try to lift my hand and reach one of them, but it’s numb. It’s strange that one arm feels weighted down. I’m lying on my back, so it’s not like I fell asleep with my head resting on them. There’s a light on somewhere above me, piercing my eyelids, pushing me to open my eyes, but even that feels like a lot of work. It’s as if some invisible person is trying to wrench me awake, even though I only fell into a deep sleep only minutesago.
Something about it causes my body to tense up. At that movement, I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. Then Iremember.
The attack. Thorne was hurt. There was so much blood. Myshoulder.
The vision of all that blood hits me hard and I grip the bedsheets, pushing off the mattress with the other arm to try and sit up. But I can hardly lift my head off the pillow, let alone lift up my torso. Whatever is beeping turns into a screeching alert that makes my pulsejump.
“Oh my gosh,” I try to say the words as I force my eyes to open. “I have to get him some help.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. It’s rough and slow, and it hurts to talk. My throat is so dry. But none of that matters if I can’t call someone for help. Remembering my phone, I reach down to where my jeans pocket should be and find a thin fabric. Why am I nude from the waist down? Panicking, the shot of adrenaline moving through me pushes back the cloud that’s masking my vision, and when I’m finally able to use my eyes again, I breathe. My eyes well up. He’s the first person Isee.
“Thorne?” I croak through the tightness in my throat, ignoring the pain anddiscomfort.
“Welcome back, Little Red.” Thorne takes my hand and lowers his face to my cheek. He kisses me softly and whispers at my ear, “You gave me a scare. I hope you know I’ll have to punish you for that… butlater.”
I smile and squeeze his hand. “Deal.”
