24
Everly
“I’d stay, but I have to head back for the rest of my shift. You going to be okay? Is there anyone you want me to call?”
There was no one. I fought back the rush of tears that wanted to surface with that knowledge. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for everything, Hadley.”
She moved to my purse on the hospital gurney in my ER bay. Riffling through it, she pulled out my phone and handed it to me. “Add me to your contacts.” She rattled off her number, and I plugged it in, even though my vision was still a little blurry. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I appreciate that.”
“No problem.” She patted my leg. “Take care of yourself.”
I nodded and immediately regretted the action. My head thrummed as if a full marching band was practicing inside my skull. I closed my eyes against the light, trying to block out the brightness and the incessant beeping and chatter around me. It helped a little, but it only made me feel more alone.
But that’s what I was, wasn’t I? No one would come running when I called. Maybe Ben, but he didn’t have a cell phone. And asking for help from him would only give him another reason to believe that I couldn’t handle things myself.
I fisted and flexed the hand free of an IV—the one Hayes had held for what seemed like hours. I hadn’t felt alone then. Not with his rough palm pressed against mine, his thumb sweeping back and forth across my skin. I’d felt warm for the first time in forever.
But that warmth didn’t belong to me. Not really. It would belong to some other woman someday—someone who would share his bed and his life. Become a member of his family. It was ridiculous how much that felt like a stab to the heart.
The familiar burn climbed up my throat, but I swallowed it down. I couldn’t break. Not here, and not now.
“Everly Kemper?”
My eyes opened at the feminine voice, and I blinked a few times before taking in the woman at the foot of my bed. She was petite with jet-black hair and golden skin. “I’m Dr. Balicanta.”
“Hi.”
She gave me a kind smile. “You’ve been through the wringer to
night, haven’t you?”
“It hasn’t been one of my favorite evenings.”
She chuckled and moved to the side of my bed. “Well, let’s see if we can get you feeling better.” A man in scrubs stepped through the curtains. “This is Nurse Joe. He’ll be helping me out. Is that okay with you?”
I realized she was asking because I’d been attacked, and the knowledge of what could’ve happened tonight made me shudder. “It’s fine. As long as he has access to the good drugs.”
Nurse Joe chuckled. “Honey, I’ve got you covered.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Dr. Balicanta slipped on gloves and carefully peeled back the gauze near my temple. “Joe, can you get me a suture kit? I’m afraid this is going to need a few stitches. Luckily, I aced my plastic surgery rotation, so I think I can get you through it without a scar.”
A scar was the least of my worries. “Whatever gets it to stop bleeding.”
“I’m agreed with you there.” She probed the wound a bit, and I winced. “Pain on a scale of one to ten?”
“I don’t know…seven?”
“Okay. I’m going to shine a light in your eyes, and it might not feel fun.” She plucked a penlight from her coat and aimed it at me. I squinted but did my best not to let out a moan. “Painful?”
“Not a trip to Disneyland.”
“I like her,” Joe said as he set something on a tray next to Dr. Balicanta.
“If you’ve won Joe over, that means you’re a good egg,” she said. “You’ve got a mild concussion. I’m going to send you for a CT scan, just to be safe, but I think you’ll be feeling better in a few days. Do you have pain anywhere but your head?”