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.”