Victor returned his attention to the doctor. “I’d like to see her.”
“Of course, Governor. Right this way.”
She led him to a room at the end of the hall and gestured toward a closed door.
“Your wife has a private room,” the doctor stated proudly.
Victor tilted his head at the doctor. Of course, his wife had a private room. Would they have housed her in a ward? Was there a ward for First Ladies of Illinois-slash-cops that got shot in the line of duty?
Dr. Greer cleared her throat as if embarrassed. “I’ll give you some time, Governor.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Once the doctor walked away, Gregor stepped closer. “I’ve rearranged your security detail, Sir. Please tell Taylor I will be right out here at all times.”
It wasn’t at all like Gregor to forego a duty that he took so seriously to a subordinate.
Victor grinned and slapped his bulky shoulder. “I’ll let her know she’s in good hands.”
Gregor nodded, folded his massive arms across his chest, and pressed his back against the wall next to the door to Taylor’s hospital room.
Victor entered the room. Since it was just reaching dusk, the setting sun released rays of orange into Taylor’s room. She was curled into a ball so, when he approached the bed, he thought she was sleeping. But her weak, broken voice, calling his name let him know that she wasn’t.
He rested his hand gently on her hip. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”
“I-I’m okay,” she whimpered.
Her tone was alarming. The last time she was shot, she’d been frightened but angry. Now, all Victor heard in her tone was sadness.
She slowly rolled over on her back. The anguish in her expression was painful. If he could, Victor would’ve pulled her close and held her tight until she felt better. Since he didn’t know the level of physical pain she was experiencing, he needed to be as gentle as possible.
He leaned over and ran his thumb across her hairline.
“Commander Evans,” Taylor whispered.
“I know, honey. I heard.”
With fresh tears pooling in her eyes, Taylor shook her head dramatically while sobbing. “H-he shot him right in the head. Right in front of me.”
Victor’s heart ached for his wife. She was hurting. And when Taylor hurt, he hurt.
He leaned over the bed, careful not to cause her more pain, and covered her with his love and protection. She clutched his arm and allowed herself a good cry.
“I’m so sorry,” Victor repeated softly, over and over again, not knowing what else to say.
