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Duke
I openedmy eyes and quickly closed them against the bright overhead lights. The steady beeping of the monitors on the stand next to me sounded soothing. Beeps were a good sign. My leg hurt. Pain was a good sign as well. It smelled like a hospital.
It had almost killed me to see Pons pointing the gun at Serena and hear it go off when she attacked him. The rest had played out in slow motion—her hits to the throat, the eyes, and the knee had been brutally efficient. Then the kick to the balls to finish him off had been one-hundred percent my feisty woman.
I remembered seeing the knife the big Spinelli brute had pulled too late, the pain, being loaded into the helo, and then…
And then Serena had said she couldn’t live without me—that she loved me.
“Hey, man. You gave us quite a scare there.”
I tilted my head and found Jordy next to me.
“How’s my girl?” It was the first thing that came to mind.
“With traffic, she should be at the house about now.”
“I screwed up,” I admitted.
Jordy shrugged. “Shit happens.”
A young doctor walked in. “How are you feeling, Mr. Hawk?” she asked, looking up from the tablet she carried. “I’m Dr. Gupta if you don’t remember.”
I didn’t. “Sorry,” I said hoarsely.
“That’s understandable. You lost a lot of blood, but the surgery went very well.”
“Surgery?” That explained the grogginess and sore throat.
“Yes. You’re a very lucky man. The knife nicked your femoral artery. A fraction of a centimeter over, and it would have transected it.”
I understood how to translate the doctor-speak. I’d seen it on the battlefield. No helicopter would have been fast enough to save me with a severed artery.
“You were also lucky that your brother had the presence of mind to apply a tourniquet.”
“Army training,” Jordy offered.
Gupta nodded. “Your prognosis is excellent for a full recovery. Fortunately for you, the injury was approximately the size of the incision we make for a catheter insertion, and I was able to use our normal closure for that procedure. Your artery will heal quickly and quite well.” She laughed. “Although you won’t feel like running for a while.”
I appreciated the levity. “Thanks, Doc.”
“Take these for the pain.” She held out her hand.
“No thanks.” I hated any pain pills stronger than Advil.
She didn’t pull her hand back. “Either take them or stay overnight for observation.”
I hated hospitals worse than pain pills, so I swallowed them with the water she offered.
“It goes without saying, no driving for you.”
“I’m driving,” Jordy offered. “How long does he need to stay?”
“If things still look good in two hours, I’ll discharge him then.” The doctor patted my shoulder. “You have a dangerous profession, young man. Be more careful in the future.”
After the doctor left, Jordy agreed. “She’s right, you know? You should cut back on risks.”
Jordy meant to cheer me up, but all it did was remind me of the biggest risk of all. Visions of Marilyn’s lifeless body in a pool of blood filled my mind—some risks were too big. I’d almost condemned Serena to the same fate.
