Page 48 of Killian
Ellie
The smellof bleach and sickness surrounded me. Hospital. There was no mistaking that concoction, as what happened over the last few hours came back to me. If I could go back to sleep so none of it would filter through my head, that would be great.
But no. My stupid brain thought it was a great time to process the pain in my ribs and face.
Turning my head to the side, Killian sat in the chair, elbows on knees, head in hands looking down at the floor. It wasn’t the strong confidence that he’d shown me, but a reflective posture. One I wasn’t accustomed to seeing on him.
“Hey,” I said, and Killian’s head popped up. He stood, coming closer to the bed, then he leaned down and kissed the top of my head.
“Thank Christ. Thank Christ.” He looked into my eyes, and agony clouded the sapphire blues. Seeing me injured obviously pained him.
“I’m okay. Just a little banged up. How’s Vane?”
“Outside your door. Got clocked in the head with something metal. He’s pissed as hell at himself.”
“And you?”
“I should’ve been there. I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you.” The raw pain in his eyes hit me in my soul. He felt so deep. Deeper than I’d ever thought. But there it was, plain as day, right in front of me. He was also exhausted and worn down. I hated that for him.
“Me too.” I shifted a bit and cried out, “I think I need meds.” Yep, I was definitely learning how to be a tough girl.
“I’ll get the nurse.”
He pressed a button on the side of my bed, telling whoever that I was awake and needed meds.
“What’s broken?”
Killian’s eyes turned a glittery color that I hadn’t seen before. Like he was ready to blow someone or something to smithereens without thinking a single thought about it. “Cracked ribs, two of them. Concussion. Busted lip, and a cut above your eye.”
I didn’t remember a hit to the face, but maybe that had to do with the concussion. “Can I go home?”
He clutched my hand. “Sorry, babe. Would love to take ya there, but Doc wants to keep you here to make sure everything is in working order.”
“They probably can’t do much for the ribs, can they?”
“Nope. How’d you know that? Get kicked in the ribs before?”
I felt my lip tip, and it pulled at the skin, so I immediately relaxed it. Dammit. “Cop and hospital shows. They always say the ribs suck because it’s not like they can go in and fix them like they would if you broke your arm.”
“You’re just a vat of information.”
“Not really.”
Doctors and nurses bombarded the room, and Killian had to step back out of their way. Questions were hurled at me while they poked and prodded my body. I felt like a damn science experiment.
They told me pretty much the same thing as Killian, only with more technical words. The bad news, I was for sure here overnight. They’d see tomorrow how my noggin was and go from there.
“Her head will never be screwed on straight,” Bri said, coming into the room right after the staff had left. She came directly to me, her eyes shining with tears. “What happened?” she whispered, grabbing the chair, pulling it to the bed, and sitting down.
Killian came to stand at the end of the bed, arms crossed over each other. At the door, Ollie stood. He must’ve brought Bri. “Hey, Ollie.” Ollie gave a small smirk then lifted his chin. That must be badass forHeybecause saying the actual words was a crime and all.
Turning back to the two who wanted answers, I laid it all out for them.
When I got to the thumb drive, Killian went on alert.
“Do you have any idea what would be on it?” I asked him.
“No. But it’s priceless, or so he says, so it needs to be found before he gets his hands on it,” Killian responded, stepping outside the room to talk to Ollie.
