Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Gentle hands touched my face as I turned my head, trying desperately to focus and figure out where I was. A female voice, close to my ear, spoke. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe. Please stop thrashing, you’re making the bleeding worse.”
Blood? I was bleeding? Is that what was in my eyes?
I shuddered, and a wave of nausea washed over me.
God, I couldn’t stand the sight of blood—especially my own. It was one of the few things I couldn’t handle.
Somehow, the quiet timbre of her voice helped to calm me down, and I drew in a deep breath, pulling in the needed oxygen.
“Good. That’s good,” she soothed. “More deep breaths, Adam. Good.”
I turned my head toward the sound of the voice. “Where am I?” I rasped.
“You’re at Toronto General. You fell. Do you remember?”
I frowned, searching my brain, and then it all came back.
The shot.
The ice.
The hand grabbing me and the shout.
Tommy.
That little fucker had startled me.
I tried to sit up, struggling against the sheet and whatever machines they had hooked up to me. “My camera. Where’s my stuff?”
Hands on my chest eased me back. “Stay still, or I’ll call Hank back. Let me flush your eyes and finish cleaning your wound. The butterfly bandages they put on it didn’t hold.”
“My camera?” I insisted.
“You should be more worried about your head than your camera.” She chided me.
“My camera is worth more,” I quipped.
I heard a sigh, then felt the weight of my camera in my searching hands. “Your stuff is fine—somehow your camera hit your bag not the rooftop. Your equipment and clothes are right here. Now, will you settle down?” There was a pause, and her voice became more teasing. “Or I’ll get Hank back. Your choice.”
I ran my fingers over the metal and plastic, checking for cracks, grateful it seemed to be fine. “I’ll behave,” I grumbled. “No need to get the fucker back.”
“Language,” she admonished.
Cold hit my forehead with a stinging sensation, and I jerked.
“Sorry. I need to clean the gash. All your thrashing has made it reopen.”
“You better be a doctor,” I growled. I didn’t want some med student messing with my eyes.
“I’m a nurse. I went to school for it and everything. Will that do?”
I huffed at her annoyed tone. “For now.”
“I can let you keep bleeding if you want to wait for the doctor.”
Right. Blood.
“No, carry on,” I said grudgingly.
“Fine. Then I’ll get to work.”
“Why am I in a damn gown?” I snarled, fingering the scratchy cotton. “Is my coat in that bag?”
“You were bleeding, and we had to examine you,” she explained patiently. “Your coat is with your clothes in the bag under your bed. You fell into a nasty slush puddle, so your things are wet. Soon as we’re done and you’re all cleaned up, I’ll give you a set of scrubs to change into.”
“Fine.”
I ran my hand along my arm, relieved to feel the familiar heavy links and leather on my wrist.
“We didn’t have to remove your bracelets.”
Bracelets? Jesus, women wore bracelets.
“Bands,” I corrected. “They’re called wristbands.”
“Whatever you want to call them. I suppose wristbands sounds more masculine for you, so okay.”
My lips twitched, but I didn’t say anything. She had me there, and her sass was amusing.
“Do you want me to get your friend?” she asked, working away at my head.
“Friend?”
“I think he said his name was Tommy?”
“No,” I hissed, shifting my torso. “It’s his damn fault I fell. Tell him to go to—”
“Adam,” she warned. “I asked you to stay still.”
“How do you know my name, anyway?” I demanded.
“You’re at the hospital. The paramedics got your information from Tommy, and we checked your wallet.”
That made sense.
“Why do I have an IV? Is it really necessary for a fucking bump on the head? Seems unnecessary to me.”
“It’s standard procedure. Once the doctor examines you and okays it, I can take it out.” She paused with a sigh. “We’re only trying to help you.”
Then her voice sounded teasing again. “If you’re good, I’ll give you a sucker.”
I grunted in annoyance. Did I look like a kid who could be bribed with sweets?
I did like suckers, though.
“What kind?”
“Grape.”
Those were my favorite flavor, and since I really had no choice, I decided to cut her some slack.
Who was she anyway?
“I think it’s only fair I know your name since you know mine.”
“Are you always this grumpy and demanding?” she countered.
She had me there. I was being difficult. I knew I was being an ass, but I hated this feeling of helplessness. I wasn’t used to it, and it pissed me off.
“Only when I hit my head and can’t see for shit. I need to see. My whole life revolves around me being able to see.”
The bed tipped back, and gentle hands touched my face then brushed along my hairline. “This won’t take long. I’m going to clean your eyes now. You have some blood, plus sand and dirt, in them. Once I flush them, you’ll be able to see. Okay?” She paused. “And my name is Alex.”