“I’m not seeing anything.” She paused, clicking on a page and waiting for it to load before continuing. “I see here that we released your weapon to Palmerston police department… along with a taser, pepper spray, handcuffs, and…” She clicked to the next page.
I leaned forward. “And?”
Oh my god, please say miscellaneous jewelry items.
I was actually considering getting down on my hands and knees and praying. Sure, I could save up and buy another one, but that would be years in the making. I had a damn family to feed and clothe and no sign-on bonus paycheck to help cover the insane shipping fee.
The artisan was out in Italy, making custom pieces that wereactualthings of beauty. There was no way I was going to cheapout and get one off Amazon when I’d been wearing the real fucking deal for over two years.
The page loaded again. That damn cursor mocking me as it slowly rotated in circles.
How the hell was a hospital’s system slower than ours back at the precinct?
I constantly found myself wanting to take my computer’s tower and bang it on the side of my desk, just to see if jostling the inside parts would force it to run faster.
Finally, the page loaded. “Oh. And a radio.”
Noooo!
True and utter despair coursed through me. Leaning forward, I let my forehead bang down against the counter, not at all carrying about the sharp sting of pain that quickly faded within seconds or the loud sound it made.
God fucking damn it.
“Mr. Bishop?”
This had to be some sick, cosmic joke. Dangling in my face with hope, only to snatch it away at the last second.
What kind of karma was this?
Suddenly, a hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back up from the desk with a hard pull. Disoriented, my instincts kicked into autopilot, reaching back to grab at the wrist that was currently holding me hostage and trying to pry it off of me.
I was tipped back into the light, another hand coming around to cup my jaw in a firm hold. The fingers were warm against my cheek.
“Hold still. And stop blinking so much.”
My eyes widened as I stared into the very,veryhandsome face of one Dr. Montgomery.
Holy shit.
“I-I think he passed out,” Beth stuttered. “I was just going over what we logged in the OR after his surgery. I wasn’t watching him.”
There was a subtle tick to his eyebrow that I only caught being this close to him. A barely-there emotion that was quickly buried when he narrowed those ice-blue eyes at me.
Without all of the hospital garb covering him up, I took in his smooth and pale complexion, the sharp, angular cut of face and nose and his thick, dark hair that was cut short and neatly styled on the sides, giving him a polished look that clashed with the tattoos covering his skin.
One side of his neck was covered in inked lines that were dark and sharp, reaching right underneath his impressive jawline and fanning along to caress over his Adam’s apple. They disappeared beneath the collar of his dark blue t-shirt, the mystery of where they ended fascinating me.
How had I not noticed them the other day when he was in my room?
Maybe I was too out of it that night. Too focused on my loss to know that my doctor was an actual, cut-out-of-stone Adonis-type.
“Your pupils are still dilating normally,” he said, letting go of my hair in order to reach for something. “No signs of a seizure.”
Right as he finished the sentence, a bright light was flashed right into my eyes, practically flashbanging me. “Jesus! Do youmind?”
He held me firmly in place, rotating the light around while I winced.
“I’m not concussed!”
