Page 178 of Severed Rivalry
Man up, Murphy. The fourteen-year-old who’s been through hell has more solid nerves than you right now. Or she doesn’t know how bad this could be…
A doctor greets us after we’ve been buzzed through the magnetic doors.
“I’m Dr. Leone. Right this way.”
We’re ushered to a bay with curtains drawn around four cubicles. There’s a commotion behind one and grunts and swearing greet us. But it’s a male voice arguing, not my angel’s.
When the doctor pulls the curtain back, Sariah is there, unconscious or asleep. She’s unmoving and unnaturally pale.
“What happened?” I ask the doctor over Renée’s head as she rushes to her mom’s bedside.
“Car accident. Bruising is consistent with not wearing a seatbelt. Nothing’s broken, but she’ll be sore for a while.”
“Why is she”—I gesture to her sleeping form—“so…” I have no words. She shouldn’t be so still.
“We gave her a sedative. She was panicked and couldn’t be examined in her state.”
Wow. Okay. “They said something about a gunshot wound?” My voice is low and scrapes across vocal cords like gravel over glass.
“She was brought in with a police officer who was shot and a federal agent who was caught in the crossfire.”
He’s no federal agent. At least with an officer down—I hate the thought—the paperwork will be pristine. I have no idea where his partner-in-crime might be, but a busted vehicle and no tires means he went on foot. I can only hope that airbag residue will be all over him when he’s found.
“When can she wake up?”
“We can reverse the sedation at any time.”
“She would’ve been panicking about her daughter.” I gesture to Renée. “She’ll be calm now.”
“That’s good. Detectives want to interview her about the situation. We refused access until we could treat her properly.”
I want to thank him for that. I also want to throw her over my shoulder and run out of here with her.
Instead, I do what I’ve wanted to for hours. What being a responsible fucking adult delayed for far too long. I round the foot of the bed and take my place at her side.
Where I’ll stay.
Forever.
Sariah
I wake like I’m coming up from being submerged. Floating to the surface in a half-dream, half-nightmare haze where my mind runs movie upon movie and my body is frozen in inaction.
I look up into the face of the man who saved me once and continues to over and over again. And not just physically, though that’s a part of it. But emotionally, stability wise, in all the ways.
“Where am I?” My lips are too fat and too stuck together to be comfortable.
“The hospital. In Fort Collins.”
That bursts my dream bubble more effectively than I could imagine and I fight.
I fight the sluggishness that overtakes my muscles, the sludge in my mind, and the panic in my heart. Beeping screams through the room and people fly in from all directions.
Terror seizes me. “Where’s Re?—”
Cian’s warm palm squeezes mine. “In the bathroom. She’s safe. You both are. Breathe for me. Please.”
A nurse comes between the two of us, admonishing Cian for who knows what… being kind, helping me?
