Page 92 of Night Shift

The ambulance crew arrived, moving swiftly to stabilize Sam while being mindful of the potential for spinal or brain injuries. They loaded her onto a gurney with the utmost care, their professionalism a small comfort in the turmoil.

Because the police were well acquainted with me from the emergency department, they allowed me to stay with Sam. I climbed into the ambulance without a second thought. My place was by her side. Colton, Conan, and Braxton each gave me a curt nod.

“We’ve got this,” Braxton said. “You go take care of her.”

As the ambulance doors closed, cutting off my view of the chaotic scene outside, my focus narrowed in on the woman lying before me. There was no way to know what trauma her brain had suffered. The ride to the hospital was a blur—every wail of the siren and every bump in the road heightening the urgency of getting Sam the help she needed.

As soon as we pulled into the trauma bay at St. John’s, the back doors of the ambulance were flung open to reveal a team of nurses, some of whom recognized Sam immediately.

“We need a CT scan, stat!” I said, finding myself barking orders, slipping into the role I knew best.

Dr. Rosemary Medina, my colleague and tonight’s attending physician, was quick to meet us. With a calmness that only years in the ED could bring, she said, “Atticus, you’re too close to this. Let me handle it.” Her eyes flickered with concern—not just for Sam but for me as well. “And you look like hell. By the way you’re holding those ribs, it’s obvious you took a hard hit. Let’s get you checked out too.”

“I’m fine,” I snapped back, more harshly than I’d intended. I kept pace with the EMTs as they wheeled Sam towards the CT room. The pain in my side was a distant second to the worry gnawing at me. When we got inside the triage area, I stepped back, allowing Dr. Medina to take over, trusting her expertise. But I was unable to move far from Sam’s side.

After the CT scan finished and the results were processed, Dr. Medina approached me, her expression unreadable. “She’s fortunate,” she began, and my world came to a standstill while I waited for her to continue. “There are no signs of brain bleed or swelling. However, she’s not out of the woods yet. We’re admitting her for intensive monitoring since she has yet to regain consciousness. Try not to worry excessively at this point. As you’re aware, recovering from brain and emotional trauma can be a slow process.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, relief flooding my veins. Although the results were reassuring, the uncertainty of when she would wake up bothered me. We both knew Sam’s recovery would be unpredictable.

Soon, they settled Sam into her room, and I followed to sit as a silent sentinel at her bedside. The hospital’s night shift moved around us, a flurry of activity, but for me, the world had narrowed down to the steady beeping of Sam’s heart monitor and the rising and falling of her chest. Anxiously, I waited for her eyes to open.

The dim light from the hallway barely illuminated her face, casting shadows that made her appear fragile. I leaned forward, the chair creaking under my weight, and took her hand in mine. It was cold, so I rubbed it between my palms, trying to infuse some warmth into her. “Samantha,” I whispered, my voice rough with emotions I couldn’t fully hold back. “I love you. More than I’ve ever thought possible.”

The words were hard to get out. “And I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you’re safe, being the man you deserve.” My throat tightened, choking on the promises and the fear that I might not get a chance to keep them.

I’d always wanted more than what life offered me, more than the transient shallow connections I chose to make. I’d yearned for someone to see me, really see me, and not turn away when they learned about the demons that lingered in my past. But I’d never thought I deserved that kind of love, that kind of devotion. My friends had all moved on from casual relationships, found their soulmates, and started families, while I focused on work and other things, a mere observer of their happiness, convinced that kind of joy wasn’t meant for me.

But then Samantha had come along. She’d burst into my life like a fiery, freckled spitfire, igniting a hope I’d long since buried. With her, the possibility of a future I’d never dared to dream of suddenly seemed within reach. I wanted her heart, her trust, everything she was willing to give, and even the things she wasn’t sure she could. I wanted her completely.

Wrapping my fingers around one of her long red locks, I let the words that would have been impossible for me to fathom just a few months ago come tumbling out. “I never thought I could be someone’s…someone’s everything. I never allowed myself to believe that I could be the person you lean on, that we could…maybe…have a future, a family.” Uttering this confession of my deepest fears and hopes lifted a weight off my shoulders.

While I studied her face, which appeared peaceful despite the bruising, a surge of protectiveness fired through me. “You changed everything, Samantha. You showed me what it means to truly care for someone, to want to protect them with every fiber of your being.”

I bowed my head, tears blurring my vision. “Just come back to me, Sam. Please.”

In the room’s silence, with only the soft hum of medical equipment for company, I poured out my heart to her unconscious form, clinging to the fragile thread of hope that she would somehow hear me, feel my love, and find her way back.

Chapter twenty-seven

The first thing I noticed when my eyes fluttered open was that there was a head of disheveled brown hair resting near my hand, our fingers locked together. It was Atticus, fast asleep. While I slowly returned to my senses, I watched him, taking in the stubble on his jaw, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the way his brow occasionally furrowed even in sleep. The fragments I recalled from the nightmare at the warehouse began to piece themselves back together in my mind.

Carefully, not wanting to startle him, I lifted his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to the rough skin of his knuckles. His eyes slowly opened, confusion giving way to a flood of relief as he focused on me. “Sam, oh God, you’re awake,” he breathed out.

He sat up straight and roamed his gaze over me, his eyes clouded with worry. “How are you feeling? Tell me everything, and don’t leave anything out, because you’ve been unconscious for fourteen hours. Does your head hurt? Are you dizzy? Can you see okay?”

I offered him a weak smile despite the dull throb in my head and the ache that seemed to permeate every inch of my body. “I’m okay, really. Just a bit battered, and yeah, my head’s pounding like I’ve got my own personal drummer in there.”

Reaching up, I rubbed the back of it.

“And I remember everything,” I said, “right up to the moment my head decided to intimately acquaint itself with the concrete.” I gave a small laugh, hoping to ease the worry that was so evident in his eyes. “Turns out, having a hard head can be a real lifesaver.”

Atticus responded with a soft chuckle, followed by a tender kiss on my forehead.

Leaning over and placing one hand on the bed, he looked down, then up, bracing himself to say something that clearly didn’t come easy. The hard lines of his face eased, revealing a glimpse of some emotion I hadn’t seen before. His other hand fidgeted slightly at his side, betraying his nervousness. Coming closer until his lips were mere inches from mine, he said, “I love you, Samantha. More than anything. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you’re safe, making sure you never doubt that you are mine, now and forever. This isn’t just some fleeting moment. This is the real deal.” He wasn’t good at this—revealing his feelings—and it showed. He seemed to be struggling with his words.

His eyes burned into mine, fierce and unyielding, a storm of emotions swirling in the winter gray depths. “I’m not just here to say sweet nothings and make promises I can’t keep. I’m here to stand by you, to fight for you, to protect you with everything I’ve got.” His hand found mine and gripped it tightly.

“No one will ever hurt you again, not on my watch. I’ll stand between you and the world if I have to. You’re my heart, my soul, and I’ll spend every last breath ensuring you feel loved, cherished, and safe.” It was a powerful declaration, a solid vow from a man who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to lay it all on the line.

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