“You’re not riding in that ambulance.” Dr. Mercer’s expression was unreadable. “It breaks protocol.”
Heat flooded my cheeks.
She held my gaze for a long moment. “Your shift ended five minutes ago. Go home. Get some sleep. He’ll be back in our infirmary by morning if the imaging is clear.”
The stretcher was already disappearing down the hall. I could hear the wheels squeaking, the chains rattling, the distant sound of Knox groaning as they jostled him through a doorway.
“Which hospital?” I called after the paramedics.
“Mercy Harbor!”
The doors slammed shut.
I stood frozen in the middle of the infirmary, my scrubs spotted with his blood, my heart pounding against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
“Go home. Get some sleep.”
Right.
I stripped off my gloves, shoved them in the biohazard bin, and grabbed my keys from my locker. My hands were still shaking. My vision was still blurry. I probably shouldn’t be driving.
I drove anyway.
The ambulance had a head start, but I pressed the accelerator and watched the speedometer climb.
At a red light, I fumbled for my phone. Scrolled through my Contacts with trembling fingers until I found the number Faith had given me.
It rang twice.
“This is Blake.”
“Blake.” The name came out on an exhale. “It’s Harper.”
“Harper?” His voice warmed with recognition. “Hey, is everything okay? You sound?—”
“No.” I gripped the steering wheel with one hand, phone pressed to my ear with the other. The light turned green. I hit the gas. “It’s Knox. He needs your help.”
43
HARPER
“He’ll be okay.” Faith wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
We sat in the cold, sterile waiting room of Mercy Harbor, surrounded by the sharp scent of antiseptic and unspoken terror. Knox’s friends had all arrived within the hour. Jace clung to Scarlett, clearly shaken by how quickly life can change. Tessa sat to my left, her hand warm on my knee, while her husband, Blake, worked beyond those double doors as an ER doctor. Axel followed Dakota as she paced the length of the room, his usual sarcastic humor buried beneath a veil of worry. Even Ryker, who’d tried to be the voice of reason, was nervous as hell, picking at his thumbnail like it owed him money.
“You don’t know that.” I wiped a tear from my cheek, hating myself for what I’d said to him.
How could I have accused him of choosing anything over me? Knox was literally willing to risk life in prison if it meant keeping me safe. And what did I do? Judge him for it. Criticize, accuse him of not caring enough about me.
I hurt him deeply.
And now, I might not get the chance to make it right.
It was sad, how sometimes we don’t realize how much we care about someone until their life hangs in the balance.
“We should have an update by now,” I said, my voice tight.
“He regained consciousness in the ambulance,” Faith reminded me gently.
