“I just hope he died in the sea, and we find the body.”
I run a rough palm over my face. “You and me both, buddy.”
Chapter Four
Dominic
Antoine buys me a pair of flip-flops before the ambulance takes off to the only major hospital on the island. They aren’t super comfortable, but they’re better than nothing.
Once we reach the hospital, the nurses and doctors take Elizabeth away on a gurney, while another team of nurses and a doctor herd me into an examination room to look me over.
“I’m fine,” I tell them again, wanting to be with Elizabeth.
“Mr. King, you have multiple injuries, including contusions and cuts,” the doctor says. “We need to get them cleaned and looked at. Some of them may be serious enough to require stitches.”
“I need to be with Elizabeth.” The authorities are looking into the kidnapper. They haven’t found a body or any signs of the guy. Until I know for sure, I can’t relax.
“You can’t be with her until the doctor’s finished with the tests and scans.”
“But—”
Antoine squeezes my shoulder. “Dominic, let them do their job. Elizabeth isn’t going anywhere. If you want, I’ll sit outside her door and keep an eye on things.”
I exhale. He’s right. I’m not helping. “All right. Thanks.”
According to my doctor, I have a cut that requires three stitches on the top of my left foot between my big toe and second toe, but the rest of the injuries on my feet aren’t bad. There are bruises on my legs and ribs as well. Despite the alarming purple and black patches, they barely register, and I tell my doctor so.
“They never hurt the day you get them.” He jots down a few things on a paper. “But they’ll hurt tomorrow. I’ll prescribe you some painkillers and a muscle relaxant.”
“I don’t need a muscle relaxant.” They make you drowsy, and I need to stay alert. Even if it weren’t for the stalker, I can’t be foggy, not when I have so many important things to tell Elizabeth, not when I can’t screw up anymore.
The doctor’s eyebrows pinch together, then he sighs. “Fill it anyway. You may change your mind.”
The moment he’s done stitching and bandaging, I leave the room in search of Elizabeth. According to a helpful nurse at one of the big stations located on the floor, she’s still being examined, and I need to sit tight in the waiting area, which is really a cramped section with twelve uncomfortable-looking molded plastic benches.
Antoine walks over, and I nod to him then turn back to the woman. “Can you make sure to put Elizabeth in a private room? You have one, right?”
“Yes—”
“And if you can keep me updated, I’d really appreciate it.”
She taps a few keys, then peers at me. “Can I ask how you’re related to the patient?”
I go blank for a moment at the sudden question. How the hell am I supposed to answer that? I’m the guy who broke her heart. I’m the guy who drove her to this island where she got hurt. I’m the guy who has to fix it.
“He’s her fiancé,” Antoine says.
Her eyes widen, but they can’t be wider than mine.
Antoine gives her a winsome smile tinged with a bit of regret. “I know it’s hard to believe, him being such a controlling jerk and all, but he’s under a lot of stress.”
She studies my face, and I school my features to extreme worry, which isn’t difficult at the moment.
“Besides, would a guy jump into the ocean on a day like this unless he’s in love with her?” Antoine says, laying it on thick while flashing her his signature puppy eyes. “It was supposed to be their romantic getaway before the wedding. Who would’ve thought this would happen? He might become something like a widower before the ceremony.”
I flinch at the word “widower” and glower at him.
The nurse, however, looks at him like everything coming out of his mouth is pure gospel, then turns her sympathetic gaze toward me. “I’m sorry to hear it. Not the engagement, but the injury, I mean. That had to be rough.”