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She nodded miserably.
“And the big guy?” the woman prompted.
“He’s—he’s my everything.” Tears poured from her eyes. “I need to be with him. Please.”
“Do you have anyone you can call?” The paramedic guided her to a chair in the waiting room.
“My sister,” she whispered. “But I don’t have my phone.”
“We’ll get her here,” the woman assured her. “And I’ll wait with you until she arrives.”
Once she sat down, and the adrenaline began to fade, her surroundings sank in. The green walls, the cacophony of crying, whispers, and the hums and beeps of various machines. The smell: antiseptic and mop water.
Hospital.
Her stomach threatened to rebel with the barrage of sensory information, every sound and scent reminding her of the poison the doctors pumped in her veins to keep her alive. Reminding her of the warrior woman who inspired her to live, even as she lost her own fight for survival.
Minutes clicked slowly into an hour.
The paramedic, Lara, kept her word and stayed at her side until Iz ran frantically into the room. “Any word?” Izzy’s eyes moved wildly. “Will. Do you know anything?”
She shook her head. “I’m still waiting.”
The wait was interminable. Police detectives filtered in and out, asking questions. She filled out paperwork, though she had precious little information she could give about Jonathan. She vowed to herself she would learn everything about him after this, from his middle name to his blood type. Every fucking thing.
It was one o’clock in the morning before one of the doctors came out with news. “Are you the family of Jonathan Barlow?”
She jumped to her feet. “Yes.”
“He’s stable. We’ve moved him into a semi-private room if you want to see him.”
“And Will? William Turner?”
The doctor shook his head. “I’m sorry. He’s not my patient, but I’ll see what I can find out.” He led them to Jonathan’s room.
Her chest hurt to see him so vulnerable. Had she looked this fragile when she was a patient here?
A thin hospital gown covered his thick torso. The doctors had taped an IV to his hand. “Is he going to be okay?”
The doctor smiled. “Yes. He just needed blood and some fluids to help fight the dehydration. We cleaned and stitched his wound. Now, the best thing for him is rest.” The man turned for the door, then glanced back. “I’ll go check on your—”
“Brother,” Iz whispered.
She pulled a chair up to the bed and wrapped her fingers around Jonathan’s free hand. Feeling the warmth and vitality of his skin soothed her instantly. She rested her head on his chest, feeling even more comfort from the steady beat of his heart. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the rhythm. In moments, the exhaustion of the day hit hard, and she drifted to sleep.
She startled awake at the sound of voices.
“—really very lucky he got here so quickly. We’ve repaired the damage to his lung, and he’s recovering in the ICU.”
“Can I see him?” Izzy spoke before Liv could even finish processing the doctor’s words.
“Only one visitor at a time.”
Izzy glanced over, and she nodded tiredly. It’s not as though she could be in two places at once anyway.
She watched her sister disappear out of the door and jumped in her seat when Jonathan squeezed her hand.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was raspy, but it was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she pulled his hand to her lips for a kiss.
