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)
Fuck. That does nothing for my nerves.
How is it that I can race into burning buildings or have serial killers take shots at me and not skip a beat, but put my woman in surgery, and I’m a fucking mess?
My hands ball into fists, and I resist the urge to reach over the counter, tear her access card off her uniform, and storm into the operating room just to check on her myself. “When you say it could be some time. What does that mean? How long?”
The woman shakes her head and attempts to offer a comforting smile. “There’s no telling,” she says. “It all comes down to the severity of her injuries and whether any of her organs have taken a hit. She’s only been under for ten minutes or so. We should know more within the next half hour,” she tells me. “I can request an update once they have something.”
“Please.”
The woman busily taps away on her keyboard again before indicating the waiting area. “Take a seat,” she says. “There’s tea and coffee around the corner.”
I don’t bother to thank her, just turn toward the waiting area and take a seat in the very spot where I had sat the night she’d been jumped. And as the painful seconds turn into long, drawn-out minutes, all I can do is sit here and wait, hoping like fuck my girl is alright.
Almost an hour passes before an exhausted-looking intern strides out into the waiting room, his sleepy gaze peering around and leaving me hoping like fuck that this idiot hasn’t been handed the reins to work on my girl. “Family of Dr. Madden?”
I immediately stand and raise my hand to get his attention. “Right here,” I say, eating up the space between us in four strides. “How’s she doing?”
“Good,” the young doctor says. “She’s stable and doing well. The wound was deep and punctured portions of both her kidney and large intestine, which are being repaired as we speak.”
“Fuck.”
He gives me a tight smile, but he doesn’t seem to be as concerned as I am, and for just a moment, I swear the fucker actually shrugs. “Look, any damage to an internal organ is considered a severe injury. However, on the grand scale of internal injuries, Dr. Madden got lucky. A fraction to the right, and she would have been in trouble,” he tells me, calming the raging monster growing inside my chest. “These particular injuries should be quick, easy fixes, and if she were with any other doctor, she’d be out within the hour. However, Dr. Levine is very thorough. She will double- and triple-check before letting Dr. Madden off her table, so I’d estimate potentially two hours before she’s taken to recovery.”
I let out a breath and run my hands through my hair. “Thank fuck.”
The doctor offers a small nod before pointing back toward the door he just came through. “I should get back in there. I’ll let you know when you can sit with her.”
“Thanks.”
He disappears a lot quicker than the way he arrived, and as I turn to make my way back to my seat, I find myself pacing. There’s potentially two hours before Harper will be out of surgery, maybe another two after that before she wakes, and I’m here in a cold waiting room, twiddling my fucking thumbs instead of searching every inch of that parking garage for any kind of clue as to who did this to my girl.
My gaze shifts toward the door, and while every fiber of my being holds me here, desperately needing to be as physically close to Harper as I can possibly be, I know she’d kick my ass for acting like such a little bitch. She’d want me to canvass the parking garage with my colleagues and make sure they haven’t missed anything. But more than that, she’d want me to have faith in Dr. Levine. She’d want me to trust that her friend is capable of doing her job and that she’s never been in better hands. And sure, in theory, I can trust that, but nothing is going to take the fear out of my chest until I have her in my arms with those stunning green eyes locked on mine.
Fuck, I really do sound like a little bitch. Sue me. I don’t give a shit. I’d climb to the roof of this building and weep like a baby if it meant simply getting to lay my eyes on her. There’s no line I wouldn’t cross, no mountain I wouldn’t climb. I’ve told her more times than I can count that if she burns, I’m stepping right into the fire and burning along with her. Harper-Rayn is my fucking world, and no bastard is going to take that away from me.
Knowing she’s in good hands, I make my way out of the hospital and back into the parking garage before slipping inside the stairwell and racing up to level three. The moment I open the door, I’m met with chaos.