Page 47 of Finding Silence
Chapter 16
Phil
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The first thing I see is a rumpled man, his big body curled up on a well-worn recliner in the corner of the room.
I recognize the hat covering his face.
The typical scent of hospital already alerted me to my whereabouts before I’d even opened my eyes. The dull heavy pain in my side and stomach registered next, triggering memories of what happened in my bedroom before I passed out.
I can only guess at what followed, although judging from the scrubs he’s wearing, and the bandages covering his shoulder and arm, Brant got hurt in the process.
My mouth is parched and I turn my head, hoping someone may have left a cup of water on my nightstand. Looks like I’m in luck, but reaching it proves to be a bit of a challenge. Every little move results in big pain. I growl in frustration.
“You’re awake.”
Brant unfurls himself from the much-too-small chair, bleary-eyed and his hair sticking up all over the place. He appears to teeter a little as he gets to his feet, but manages to rush to the bed where he bends down to drop a sweet lingering kiss to my forehead.
“Hi,” I croak, swallowing to try and get some saliva flowing. “What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing,” he tries to convince me. “Should I call a nurse? Can I get you something?”
“A sip of water, please.”
He grabs the cup, feeds the straw between my lips, and I groan with relief when the still-cold water fills my mouth. When I’ve had my fill, he sets it down and pulls up a stool so he can sit beside me, clutching my hand.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore, a bit groggy, and a lot confused,” I confess.
He nods, as if it was no less than he expected.
“You’re in the hospital. I’m not sure how much you remember, but you were stabbed and lost quite a bit of blood,” he explains. “Apparently, the knife nicked an artery, so they had to open you up to stop the bleeding.”
He points at the two bags hanging off an IV stand; one is clear liquid, and the smaller one is blood.
“They’re working to get your blood levels back up.”
The door opens and Savvy’s friend, Dana, walks in, a smile on her face.
“Glad to see you awake. How are we doing?”
She immediately starts fiddling with a machine attached to the IV stand that started beeping.
“I’m okay. I’m here, so that’s good.”
“Yeah, I’d call that a win,” she agrees. “You had us worried there for a bit. Didn’t she, Sheriff?” she directs at Brant, who can’t seem to take his eyes off me.
“Damn right,” he mutters.
“He wouldn’t leave your side. It wasn’t until we wheeled you into the OR we were finally able to convince him to let us stitch him up.”
I look at Brant, who aims a disgruntled glare at Dana, who doesn’t seem impressed in the least.
“What happened?” I ask him, but it’s Dana who ends up answering.
“Apparently climbed through a broken window to get to you, slicing himself up in the process.”
