Page 190 of Surfer's Paradise

Heath Carrington’s voice cut through the noise like a scalpel.

“Of course it’s Rayleigh.”

Isaac turned his head and saw him—scowling in his white coat, already snapping on gloves.

“Heath,” he breathed.

“You again,” Heath muttered, stepping in. “I leave town for two days and you find a way to get shot at an art exhibit?”

Isaac smirked. “Trying to diversify my skillset.”

Heath didn’t smile. Just looked at the monitor, then at the blood-stained side of his abdomen. “You’re lucky. Bullet missed everything that matters. Through and through. Hurts like hell but you’re not dying today.”

Isaac didn’t respond. He wasn’t so sure.

They stitched him up. Packed the wound. IV fluids dripping into his arm. Monitors beeping steady and slow.

He drifted.

Half-asleep. Half-awake.

Every time he stirred, there were hands adjusting tubes, checking vitals, cold fingers pressing to his wrist.

But then—

Rosie.

He didn’t even have to open his eyes. He knew the feel of her fingers brushing through his hair. Knew the sound of her breath hitching as she whispered his name.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she said, her voice breaking.

He reached for her hand.

Didn’t say a word.

Didn’t have to.

She stayed with him. Sat beside him while the pain rolled in waves, while the hours bled into each other and the hospital settled into its usual rhythm of life clinging to the edge.

He was still here.

Still fighting.

And for once in his life, he wasn’t doing it for country, or team, or the goddamn Navy.

He was doing it for her.

* * * * *

It was the pain that woke him—or maybe the silence.

Hospital silence was never real silence. There was always something beeping in the background, always the low shuffle of feet, hushed voices through a curtain, the hum of fluorescent lights.

But this silence felt heavier. Like the world was holding its breath.

Isaac blinked into the dark, the dim glow of a wall monitor the only light in the room. His ribs ached like fire, a dull weight pressing into his side. There was something tight across his chest—then he realized it wasn’t pain.

It was her.

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