Page 90 of Fighter
Relieved, we trailed behind her as she navigated back to a circular ER with a big desk in the middle. She caught a nurse's attention, motioned to us in silent question, and the nurse nodded.
“Here.” The girl pointed to a glass sliding door in front of a closed curtain. A bright red 4 was painted on the front. Most of the lights were off inside. “You can go in.”
When I hesitated, the girl paused.
“She okay?” I asked.
She drew in a deep breath. “She'll be okay, yeah.”
No further details came, but I didn't need them right then anyway. Maverick jerked his head toward the room as the girl disappeared back to the front desk. “I'll wait here. Go see her.”
I clapped him on the shoulder, then slipped inside. Monitors beeped quietly when I slid through the curtains. Serafina lay on a bed, her eyes closed. The pain had mostly cleared from her expression. Her right arm was bandaged from elbow to wrist in what appeared to be padded gauze and a wrap. A precursor to a cast. No other visible bruises, but Hernandez had relayed her other, less-obvious injuries from the bat. Blow to the side. Kicks to the stomach. Possible broken hand.
I stopped to take her in, then let out a long, pained breath. We were lucky to come out of that alive.
Moments from the parking lot passed back through my mind in snatches. The sound of her bone cracking under the bat. The advance of the men the moment Amber attacked. The helpless feeling of not being able to protect Serafina washed back through me until I forced it to slow. They'd rushed me the moment Amber had her revenge. Coordinated attack. The first had fallen quickly, but the second had been brutish and heavy enough to keep me busy.
Didn't matter now. Sera was alive.
She made it.
Somehow.
Or as far as I could tell.
I advanced another step so I could put my hands on her. In the aftermath, I felt shaky. Exhausted. Now that I saw her breathing, I wanted to collapse, even though I was still ready to beat the—
“Ben?”
Those familiar eyes blinked at me, groggy from pain meds, I hoped. I lowered into the bed next to her.
“Hey.”
Tears filled her eyes when I put a gentle hand on her face. She leaned into my touch with wide eyes.
“You're okay?” she whispered.
“Fine. Nothing but a training match. You?”
She swallowed. “Broken arm. They want to keep me tonight to watch for internal bleeding. Amber got me on my side with the bat.” She tilted her head to the right, then grimaced. My nostrils flared from a poor attempt to control my emotions as I peeled back the flimsy gown they'd wrapped her in. Dark blue mottling had started to form along the creamy skin of her stomach, not far below her ribs.
She watched me carefully when I tucked it back down.
“Where else?” I croaked.
“My thigh, but it's just a bruise. There's a hairline crack in one of the bones of my hand, but it'll heal on its own. She got me in the stomach with a kick, but no lasting issues there. That's it.”
I snorted.That's it.As if I didn't want to murder someone over it.
As if she sensed the stirring darkness in me, her hand reached up to touch my face. Tubes and tape and monitors strapped all over her arm didn't deter her. “Please,” she murmured as her thumb gently touched the swollen lower edge of my lip. “Say something.”
“I hate this for you,” I whispered.
A tear dropped down her cheek. “Me too,” she murmured.
I covered her hand with mine.
“They would have killed me if you weren't there,” she whispered. “Thank you for saving my life.”
