Joe caught her eye and winked at her, obviously understanding exactly what she was trying to do.
“Of course. I have the inside scoop, and all of you to give me the information I don’t have,” Elsie said excitedly.
“I’d say you better get to work as soon as possible and break the story by tomorrow morning,” Sarah told Elsie emphatically. The earlier the better. Sarah was hoping the craziness would die down by the time Dante was released. “I’m heading back to keep an eye on Dante. He should be headed up to his room in a few minutes,” Sarah said purposefully, knowing she needed to get back to Dante and make him behave. The poor nurses were starting to draw straws over who had to take care of him. “Joe, I’ll see you shortly in Dante’s room.”
Joe nodded. “I’ll be up.”
“Sarah?” Emily called just as Sarah was ready to head back to the ER.
Sarah turned back to her friend. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?” Emily asked nervously.
“I’m holding up,” Sarah said, trying to reassure her friend. At the moment, she was functioning on autopilot, trying not to think about anything except Dante’s care.
“I hate to mention this, but you’re in a hospital. I thought . . . I guess I was worried . . . oh hell, I just wondered if you were doing all right with that,” Emily said breathlessly.
Sarah stopped and gave Emily a blank look. And then it dawned on her. Emily was the only one except her mother and Dante who knew the whole story about her past and her panic attacks.
I am in a hospital. I’m not freaking out. I’m not having panic attacks. Everything just feels . . . familiar.
She slowly grinned at Emily. “Your brother-in-law has made me so crazy that I didn’t even think about it.” Sarah shook her head in amazement. “And yeah, I’m doing just fine with it.” Strangely, she was doing well in a hospital setting. She’d been so worried about Dante that she hadn’t had time to be afraid.
Emily gave her a tremulous smile, and Sarah turned around and went back to the ER with an amazed expression on her face.
Dante woke up feeling unnerved and in a place he hadn’t wanted to see again for quite some time.
Another fucking hospital.
It was still dark, no light coming through the window blinds.
What the hell time is it?
He leaned forward and squinted at the clock on the wall, barely able to see the hands with only the dim light near the door to illuminate the room.
It’s after three a.m.
He’d fallen asleep soon after he and Sarah had spoken with Joe to give him a statement of what had occurred at the center.
Sarah?
He froze up anxiously for a minute until he saw Sarah near him, asleep in the recliner next to the bed.
Thank fuck!
His eyes caressed her lovingly, damn grateful she was still alive. He collapsed backward again, letting out a small groan as his head hit the skimpy pillow.
“Dante?” Sarah’s sleepy voice called out, and she sat up immediately. “What happened?”
Dante grinned at her sheepishly as she hovered over him. “Nothing. I forgot that I hit my head.”
Damn! Even exhausted she looks beautiful.
Close up, he could see the dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was tousled, but at the moment she was the sweetest sight he’d ever seen. She was here. She was breathing. And she was breathtaking.
“Are you okay?” she murmured quietly, running a hand lightly though his hair, avoiding the injured areas on his scalp.
The anxious look on her face floored him because he knew it was all for him. She’d been through hell in the last sixteen or so hours, but her every thought was about him. She hadn’t shed a tear over what had happened, or talked about almost dying. Every thought, every action, had been for him. She had surrounded herself with a veneer of calm to take care of him, just like she’d done to protect Emily and Randi.
“I’m lonely.” He flipped back the covers and scooted to the left, making room for her in the small bed. “Come sleep with me.”
He was wearing a pair of what almost looked like surgical scrub pants. He’d gotten rid of the annoying patient gown and just kept the drawstring pants on to cover his junk. They’d disconnected him from his intravenous fluids, so he didn’t have any lines going into him—just an irritating port in the top of his left hand. Probably the only reason he’d slept for a while was because they’d stopped pumping him full of the fluids that had sent him to the bathroom to piss every five minutes.
Dante watched Sarah’s face as a moment of indecision passed over her features. He took her hand and pulled her forward. “Don’t analyze it. Just crawl in here.” He was afraid if she thought about it for too long, she’d scurry back to the recliner, and he desperately needed her close to him. She’d been so busy taking care of him that she hadn’t dealt with her own trauma. She needed comfort, and he wanted to give it to her. She’d been strong for long enough.
“Okay,” she whispered, crawling gingerly into the space he’d made for her.
He covered them both with the blankets, and then brought her head to rest on his chest, trying to make her comfortable. “You put on a brave face all evening. Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly, knowing she’d eventually have to break in order to heal.
Sarah shook her head, but her arm curled around his abdomen and she clenched him tightly.
Dante’s heart swelled as he held the vulnerable Sarah in his arms, the side of this woman that few people ever saw. “Do you want me to tell you how I feel?”