She blinked rapidly, tears falling down her cheeks. “Aye. Call me as soon as you can.”
I gave her a jerk of my chin. “Thanks.”
Then the ambulance doors closed.
“Ramsay.”
I looked to Silver. There was so much blood drenching my hands. So much fucking blood, I was terrified a major artery had been punctured. “I’m here.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “So … sorry.” Her eyes closed and her hands went limp at her side.
27.Ramsay
I’d lied.
Knowing there was no way the doctors would tell me what was going on with Silver. Knowing she had no immediate family left.
I’d informed the hospital in Inverness that I was Silver’s husband.
Lucky for me, I was a paranoid bastard with a photographic memory. When I’d looked into Silver, I’d memorized small details, like her date of birth, without even trying. A quick glance at it and that information was stored in my brain.
I couldn’t sit around. I’d been in contact with Jack. The police didn’t catch the bastard who robbed and stabbed Silver, but a tourist had come forward to say he’d snapped a photo of the perpetrator and the boat. He’d handed over the information to the island police who, in turn, shared it with mainland investigators.
After that phone call, I’d called Jay and asked her to hack the island police to get the photographs.
Quinn, Cammie, they’d all called for an update, but I didn’t have anything yet. I told them there was no point in them traveling the five hours it would take to get here without more information.
I tried to detach myself from the situation.
Think on it as if Silver were a stranger.
Reevaluate her situation with my emotions removed.
Was there as much blood as I’d thought?
Surely, if there had been, wouldn’t she have bled out in the helicopter?
But she was still alive, if unconscious, when the paramedics wheeled her into the hospital.
As much as I attempted to rewind the last few hours … my mind kept conjuring horrifying images of Silver drenched in blood.
I couldn’t … I couldn’t rationalize. I couldn’t think logically.
Fear had clouded my perception. Truth be told, I had no fucking clue how bad her injury was.
All my training … out the fucking window.
Maybe I’d been too long out of the game. Maybe the people of Glenvulin had made me soft. Fundamentally changed me.
Or maybeshehad.
When I’d returned to the waiting room, I was aware of the looks from the other patients. Because of my height and size, it wasn’t unusual to feel eyes on me. My size, in fact, had often been a hindrance in my job, and I’d found ways to try to diminish it through a careful use of body language while wearing clothing that made me blend in.
But the patients here weren’t looking at me because of my size. A nurse had given me a shirt from lost and found that just about fit because I was bare chested after giving Silver my own. The same nurse had led me to a bathroom to wash Silver’s blood off my hands.
Yet my jeans were splattered in her blood.
Now, a quick glance in the mirror on the wall revealed I’d streaked my cheek with her blood and hadn’t noticed. Fuck. I got up to head to the bathroom again but was stopped when a doctor in scrubs appeared in the waiting room.
