Chapter 35 Noah
Noah
Adull ache throbs in my side. Well, crap, it’s everywhere: side, ribs, my thigh. Each breath exacerbates the bruising, but in my mind the urge to move is rampant.
A faint beep, beep, beep echoes near my head, and as my eyes flutter open, a sharp fluorescent light beams in. The tension is on me quickly, and I know where I am before I even look around the room. A damn hospital.
The last thing I remember is …
Reaching for a gun.
The cold seeping from my side.
Lily’s screams.
Turning and unloading a clip into Raven.
Hell. Did I kill him?
I blink, my vision adjusting to the white walls. It takes me a moment to register the slight rhythmic motion turned pressure on my forehead.
Lily.
I close my eyes again, relishing her warm hands on my chilled skin.
Her soft—wait. Lily’s palms are weathered from her climbs.
The calluses on her fingertips would skim along the crevices of my abs, tickling.
I’d take her hands and trace over the marks from years of climbing—faint white scars across her palms—she’d tell me the stories of each time she slipped.
The sensation of her hands on me, stroking me, squeezing me—I shudder at the memory.
But this touch is too delicate.
My eyes pop open, and I jerk back, or try to. A sharp pain rips through my side, and I stifle a curse.
Morgan.
She sits in the chair beside the off-white hospital bed, her fingers continuing to brush over my forehead, like she has a damn right to be touching me.
Why is she here? Where’s Lily?
“What the hell are you doing?” My voice is hoarse, rough, but I get the words out and suddenly I’m mad my first words are for her. I want Lily here. I want the first words as I wake out of this hell to be for her.
Morgan’s hand stills. Then, slowly, she smirks. “Welcome back, Noah.”
She says it like I didn’t just wake up from hemorrhaging a good portion of my blood out on the dirt. It’s not like I’ve been on a two-week cruise.
I shift, uncomfortable, but it’s pointless. Everything hurts.
She tilts her head. “I was worried about you. At least you looked peaceful.”
I narrow my eyes. “I was unconscious.”
Frowning, her hand falls away from beside my head, and she slumps back into the chair. She turns to look out the wall of glass windows and crosses her arms over her pink bubble dress. Her hair is curled into loose waves that cascade around her face and over her shoulders.
She looks too put together for the hospital.
I can’t help but wonder about Lily. Has she been here? Hell, how long have I been here?
“Morgan. Is a nurse around?”
She jumps forward, grabbing my hand. “Why? Do you need something?”
“How long have I been here?”
Morgan swallows and squeezes my hand. “You lost a lot of blood. They did surgery. I think the doctor can explain better than I can. I’ll get him.”
She makes to stand, but I grab her wrist. “How long have I been here?”
“A few days.”
“And Lily?”
She blinks at me, letting out a long sigh. “She’s fine, I guess.”
Then she shuffles to the wood door and exits, shutting it behind her.
Fine.
I look up, fighting tears. She’s fine. I hope that’s sincere, that she’s really okay. Safe. Rubbing my chest, I sigh.
It’s not long before there’s a knock at the door, and Dr. Young and Ranger Dan enter the room.
“Hey, buddy,” Dan says, a wide smile on his face underneath his silver mustache.
“Lily?” I ask.
“She was interviewed by the FBI and treated for minor scuffs and scrapes. She’s okay.”
“Hey, Noah. How are you feeling?” Dr. Young moves to check the readings on the monitors next to me.
“If I say I’m great, can I leave?”
He chuckles. “Nice try, though that sense of humor will get you feeling better in no time. Need to pass some of that along to that girl of yours.”
“Lily?”
Her name is a constant question. Need drives me. I don’t care about myself. I’ve wanted to make sure she was okay since the moment I laid eyes on her up on that ledge back in October.
“That’s right. Miss Parker. She’s about as pleasant as she was when she was in that bed. Came up here saying she doesn’t do doctors.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “She was really concerned, though I’m not sure she ever made it into the room.”
I frown. Did they not let her?
“Listen, Ranger Sullivan. You lost a significant amount of blood from the stab wound to your side.
We were able to stop the bleeding and repair the damaged tissue with surgery.
You were lucky. The knife avoided major organ damage, but the blood loss put serious strain on your body.
Right now, we need to keep you hydrated, keep infection away, and let your body recover.
The bullet in your thigh was removed, no issue.
“You’ll be weak—fatigue, dizziness when you stand, and pain are expected, but with rest, and I mean true rest, you should be back on your feet in about two to four weeks.
No heavy lifting, no sudden movements, and if there’s any fever or shortness of breath, you call immediately. Give yourself time to heal.”
My jaw clenches. Two to four weeks. That’s not as bad as I thought. “When can I get out of here? Where’s Max?”
Dr. Young side-eyes me. “Let’s get you up and to the bathroom. See how you move around on your thigh. I’ll have a nurse come in just a bit.”
He nods and exits the room while Ranger Dan drops into the seat Morgan had occupied.
He sighs. “You didn’t wait for backup.”
“Couldn’t.” I push up into a sitting position and wince. “Were you able to report Paul? What about Brent? Thank you for sending in the agencies. I’m assuming my location went through.”
“The FBI has former Sheriff Tate detained, and the whispers between agencies have Brent on the run. They say he’s back in Alabama. But, Noah, we didn’t send the FBI or DEA in.”
I freeze. “What?”
“We didn’t report to the FBI or DEA. We were still trying to sort out your location.” He leans back, sliding a hand over his sun-worn face.
“Well, then who the hell did?”
“From what I was able to find out the tip came from Mississippi. You’ll have to inquire some yourself, Noah. It’s not our jurisdiction, and I’ve already been reprimanded for poking around.” He chuckles. “That dog of yours is pissed without you, though. Doesn’t want to train.”
“Who’s got him?”
“Greg.”
I roll my eyes, laughing. “Max’s never liked him.”
Dan joins in, then his smile dies. “Heard from several agents they were worried Max wasn’t going to leave Lily’s side.”
That makes me grin. “He loves her. I swear sometimes I think he likes her more than me.”
He stares at me. “You shouldn’t have gone, Noah.
It was dangerous. You’ve got a woman outside this room who wants you, might even love you.
Is this girl someone you want to hang your life on?
You’re not the type of person to go off the rails, Sullivan.
Not once have you disregarded protocol, but taking Max, an asset, out alone into the woods—reckless. They aren’t happy.
“I told them it wasn’t you. Look where you are?” Dan’s voice grows louder.
I sniff. “I’m right where I’m supposed to be. I will always stand between her and anyone who wants to bring her harm.”
“Damn, Noah.”
Actually …
“Where’s my phone?” I reposition, searching for it. I need to talk to Lily. Make sure she’s okay. Everyone here keeps saying she’s “okay” or “fine,” but I want to hear that from her. I need to know.
“I’m not sure. I don’t think you had one on you when you came in. Here, use mine. I brought you some clothes. They’re over on the chair.”
I glance at the clothes, and Dan’s phone extended in his hand. A phone call is not enough …
“Damn it. I need to get out of here.” I sit up, wincing at the pain, but moving my stiff limbs is surprisingly therapeutic.
“Noah, come on. Rest. If you want, I’ll swing by and check on her.”
I shake my head. No way. Lily went through something horrible, and she’s been surrounded by law enforcement probing for answers ever since.
No.
I need to see her. Hold her.
Dan stands, extending his hand to me. “Glad you’re okay, Sullivan. We’ll have you back to work in no time. Get some sleep.”
I grip his hand, shaking twice before he smiles and exits the room.
Staring at the door, I realize I should rest, should sleep. I focus on the monitor sounds, the beeps steady and rhythmic.
It’s not going to happen. Not now. Not without her.
My mind isn’t in this bed—it’s not even in this hospital. It’s with her.
I can’t stop picturing her alone, scared, and unprotected. Every second I waste recovering is another second that she could change her mind about life here. We never got a chance to truly start together.
She matters more than my wrecked body.
She matters more.
Hopefully she’s safe in my mother’s house, but unease pokes in my gut thinking she may not be there. Me and my stupid comments.
I push up, swallowing the agonizing groan that slips past my teeth. The room spins, so I pause briefly, allowing my vision to focus, and I grit my teeth.
Then I rip the IV from my arm.
A small dot of blood beads at the site, but I wipe my hospital gown along the spot and throw the blanket off. Swinging my legs over the side, my muscles revolt as my feet meet the cold tile floor.
One step at a time.
Pain lashes through my side the second I pull myself to standing.
I brace against the mattress while, waiting for my body to catch up before I press forward, letting some weight fall to my injured thigh.
Shockingly, it’s not debilitating pain, but I remember I just yanked out my pain management IV, so I’m certain the medicine will wear off soon.
Everything tilts when I take my first step, and I almost feel nauseous, but I force a deep breath and shuffle across the speckled floor. It’s sticky in some spots, perhaps where it’d been mopped with the disinfectant.
My stitches pull as I hobble, dragging my leg over to the chair where clothes are draped over the back—a pair of gray sweatpants and a blue long sleeve. Adrenaline keeps the pain at bay, and even though my breaths are sharp and sweat droplets tickle my temple, the more I move, the steadier I get.
Ripping off my hospital gown, I glance down at the bandages wrapped around my torso.
When the fabric of my shirt brushes my side I wince but shove my arms through the sleeves anyway.
It hurts like hell, but I pull it over my head and then proceed with my pants.
Each step burns and getting dressed takes five years, but I don’t stop.
By the time I shove my feet into the boots, I’m exhausted and my panting could rival Max’s on a hot training day. Testing my limits has never been a problem, so even though I hurt all over, it’s not enough to stop me. I roll my shoulders.
In a matter of seconds, I slip out of the room. The hallway is dim, the nurses quietly doing rounds after the evening shift change.
I should check out. Is that a thing? Discharge myself? I don’t have time.
I move toward the exit, keeping my head down—damn, Dan is right.
As I reach the elevator, a voice stops me.
“What are you doing?” Morgan’s clipped voice is laced with disapproval. “Please tell me you’re kidding me.”
I clench my jaw and turn around.
She stands there, arms crossed, her chin tilted upward slightly. “Noah?”
“I have to go.”
“Go to Lily?” she asks flatly, taking a step closer.
I exhale. “I don’t have my phone. I need to know she’s okay. I have to see her.”
Her lips purse. “You almost died, Noah. Shouldn’t she want you resting and getting better? You’re in no condition to leave.”
I shift, pushing the elevator button down and shrug my shoulders. “She was taken and held violently against her will. I want to talk with her. Frankly, I’m getting pissed people keep standing in my way.”
She swallows. “We just want you to … be safe. To get better. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“Morgan, I don’t know what you think, or what you’re hoping for, but there isn’t going to be anything between us aside from friendship.” I step back, ignoring the way the hallway sways.
She sniffs, nods slowly, and bites her lip before looking away. “Everyone expects it.”
The elevator dings, the doors open, and I step in. “Well, I never expected someone like Lily, and there isn’t anyone else for me.” Holding the door open, I hold her stare and watch as her expression softens.
“You really love her, don’t you.”
Smiling, I remove my hand holding the doors and offer her a slow dip of my chin as the doors draw shut.
She’s out there, and I’m going to get her, no matter what it takes. I love her—it’s wild, uncontrollable, and sure as hell going to leave a mark.