Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Celia collects my chart off the end of the bed before striding around to my side. “How’re you feeling, honey?”
“I could use a little morphine. Bit uncomfortable.”
“Okay,” she says, glancing over the chart and writing something down. “That I can do.”
Celia gets busy checking all my vitals and logging everything before finally placing the chart down over my legs and reaching for the bottom of my hospital gown. “I just need to check your bandages.”
I nod, more than knowing the routine, and not a moment later, my bandages are on display. It’s not pretty. They’re covered in dried blood and antiseptic solution from the surgery, but from what I can tell, there’s no fresh bleeding, which is good news.
“How long before I can shower all this shit off me?”
“Give it another few hours at least,” Celia tells me. “I know you’re not going to listen to me, but you’re just coming off the anesthesia. Your body needs time to recover from that before you go gallivanting around and tearing all those internal stitches.”
I suck in a gasp. “I would never.”
Celia gives me a hard stare. “Uh-huh.”
Knight scoffs beside me, and I don’t doubt that he’s more than on Celia’s side now, and I can’t help but wonder how these next few weeks are going to pan out. Are they about to become besties, bonding over their mutual desire to torment me with my own hospital stay?
Just fucking great.
Celia gets on with everything she needs to do before upping my morphine and finally leaving me to rest, but not before scolding Knight on his choice of seating arrangements. Realizing there’s no hope, she lets me know that Dr. Levine should be around soon to check in on me, and then she leaves me to deal with the grumpy asshat beside me.
Once the silence fills the room again, Knight finally adjusts himself beside me, shifting back to the small armchair beside the bed.
“Doll,” he says a moment later, his elbows braced against the mattress as he clutches my hands in his, and with that one word, I know exactly what’s coming. “I’ve gotta know what happened,” he begs. “I’ve called down to my contact in the hospital surveillance, but they don’t have cameras covering that portion of the parking garage. I’m at a loss, babe. I’ve got no fucking leads. Nowhere to start. I need to find who did this to you.”
I swallow over the growing lump in my throat, my heart breaking for the pain he must be going through, and while the last thing I want is to dive into the details of what happened in the parking garage, I know he needs to hear it, because the truth is, neither of us will be able to sleep soundly until this bastard has been put away.
I clutch his hand like it’s my only lifeline before letting out a shaky breath and allowing the memories to swarm back, my eyes instantly filling with tears. “I, umm . . . After I texted you that I was on my way home, I was just about to get into my car when this eerie feeling came over me. It’s as though I could feel something was off, but when I looked around, I couldn’t see anything, so I tried to shrug it off and keep going to my car, but then he appeared. He just stepped out from behind my car as though he’d been waiting for me.”
“Waiting for you?” Knight questions, his brows furrowed. “So this wasn’t random? You knew who it was?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t . . . I don’t know. I didn’t know him. I didn’t even see his face, but he was definitely waiting for me. It wasn’t random. He targeted me. I just . . . I don’t know why.”
“Fuck.” Knight pulls his hand from mine and springs up from the armchair beside my bed. “What can you tell me about him? Anything could help. Height. Size. Hair color. Anything at all.” He’s pacing up and down the length of the hospital room in anticipation.
The picture of the vampiric mask flashes in my mind, and I go to tell him what really happened out in that parking garage, but the stalker’s words pull me up short.
Who’s going to believe you now?
He’s right. If I tell Knight that this attack has anything at all to do with the stalker who tormented my mind for the past few months, he’s immediately going to assume that this was all in my head. That I’d somehow made it all up and managed to hurt myself again, just like I had with the carvings on my ribs. He’ll think the meds aren’t working, and I can’t go through that again. I can’t have him not believe me now that I need him more than ever.