I shake my head. No way. Lily went through something horrible, and she’s been surrounded by law enforcement probing for answers ever since.
No.
I need to see her. Hold her.
Dan stands, extending his hand to me. “Glad you’re okay, Sullivan. We’ll have you back to work in no time. Get some sleep.”
I grip his hand, shaking twice before he smiles and exits the room.
Staring at the door, I realize I should rest, should sleep. I focus on the monitor sounds, the beeps steady and rhythmic.
It’s not going to happen. Not now. Not without her.
My mind isn’t in this bed—it’s not even in this hospital. It’s with her.
I can’t stop picturing her alone, scared, and unprotected. Every second I waste recovering is another second that she could change her mind about life here. We never got a chance to truly start together.
She matters more than my wrecked body.
She matters more.
Hopefully she’s safe in my mother’s house, but unease pokes in my gut thinking she may not be there.Me and my stupid comments.
I push up, swallowing the agonizing groan that slips past my teeth. The room spins, so I pause briefly, allowing my vision to focus, and I grit my teeth.
Then I rip the IV from my arm.
A small dot of blood beads at the site, but I wipe my hospital gown along the spot and throw the blanket off. Swinging my legs over the side, my muscles revolt as my feet meet the cold tile floor.
One step at a time.
Pain lashes through my side the second I pull myself to standing. I brace against the mattress while, waiting for my body to catch up before I press forward, letting some weight fall to my injured thigh. Shockingly, it’s not debilitating pain, but I remember I just yanked out my pain management IV, so I’m certain the medicine will wear off soon.
Everything tilts when I take my first step, and I almost feel nauseous, but I force a deep breath and shuffle across the speckled floor. It’s sticky in some spots, perhaps where it’d been mopped with the disinfectant.
My stitches pull as I hobble, dragging my leg over to the chair where clothes are draped over the back—a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue long sleeve. Adrenaline keeps the pain at bay, and even though my breaths are sharp and sweat droplets tickle my temple, the more I move, the steadier I get.
Ripping off my hospital gown, I glance down at the bandages wrapped around my torso. When the fabric of my shirt brushes my side I wince but shove my arms through the sleeves anyway. It hurts like hell, but I pull it over my head and then proceedwith my pants. Each step burns and getting dressed takes five years, but I don’t stop.
By the time I shove my feet into the boots, I’m exhausted and my panting could rival Max’s on a hot training day. Testing my limits has never been a problem, so even though I hurt all over, it’s not enough to stop me. I roll my shoulders.
In a matter of seconds, I slip out of the room. The hallway is dim, the nurses quietly doing rounds after the evening shift change.
I should check out. Is that a thing? Discharge myself? I don’t have time.
I move toward the exit, keeping my head down—damn, Dan is right.
As I reach the elevator, a voice stops me.
“What are you doing?” Morgan’s clipped voice is laced with disapproval. “Please tell me you’re kidding me.”
I clench my jaw and turn around.
She stands there, arms crossed, her chin tilted upward slightly. “Noah?”
“I have to go.”
“Go to Lily?” she asks flatly, taking a step closer.
