Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 67

The waiting room is unbearably quiet. The kind of silence that makes every second stretch into an eternity, every breath feel like a monumental effort. My hands won't stop shaking, my heart won't stop racing, and all I can do is stare at the floor, the image of Rafe crumpling to the ground replaying over and over in my mind.

"Please, please be okay," I whisper to no one, my voice breaking. I hug my knees to my chest, trying to keep myself from falling apart, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of my breathing.

I can still hear the echo of the gunshot, the sound piercing through the air, so loud, so final. I can still feel the panic that seized me when I saw Rafe's body jerk, his eyes widening with shock and pain before he collapsed. All because of me.

The door to the waiting room swings open, and I jerk my head up, my breath catching in my throat as a doctor steps inside, his expression calm but serious. My heart pounds wildly, and I shoot to my feet, gripping the back of the plastic chair in front of me for support.

"Are you Teresa Peterkin?" he asks gently, his gaze locking onto mine.

"Yes," I breathe, nodding frantically. "Yes, that's me. Is—Is he okay? Is Rafe okay?"

The doctor offers a small, reassuring smile, and I feel a wave of dizzying relief wash over me, my knees threatening to give out. "He's going to be fine," he says softly. "He lost some blood, but we managed to stabilize him. He's already in recovery."

For a moment, I just stand there, staring at the doctor like I can't quite comprehend what he's saying. And then, suddenly, the breath I've been holding rushes out of me in a choked, shuddering sob.

"Thank God," I whisper, my hands flying up to cover my mouth as tears blur my vision. "Thank God... he's okay."

The doctor nods, his expression sympathetic. "He's strong. He'll need time to heal, but there shouldn't be any lasting damage."

I nod numbly, the words washing over me, and all I can think about is how close I came to losing him. How close he came to dying—because of me. Because he jumped in front of me without a second thought, because he shielded me with his own body.

"Can I see him?" I manage to ask, my voice trembling. "Please, can I see him?"

The doctor hesitates, glancing at his clipboard. "He's still groggy from the anesthesia, but... I think seeing you will help," he murmurs, giving me a soft smile. "Go ahead. Room 213."

I nod quickly, whispering a quiet thank you before hurrying past him, my legs unsteady but propelled by a single, overwhelming need: to see Rafe. To touch him, to make sure he's really okay. That he's still here.

The walk to his room feels like it takes forever, every step filled with a mix of fear and hope, my heart hammering wildly in my chest. But when I finally reach the door, when I finally push it open and step inside...

Relief crashes over me like a wave.

He's lying on the hospital bed, propped up slightly against a pillow, his face pale but his eyes open. He looks up as I enter, and a faint, lopsided smile tugs at his lips, his gaze locking onto mine.

"Hey, baby," he murmurs, his voice rough and low, but still unmistakably Rafe. "Took you long enough."

A breathless laugh escapes me, and I rush over to his side, dropping into the chair beside the bed. "You idiot," I whisper, my voice breaking as I reach out, my fingers brushing gently against his cheek. "You absolute, reckless idiot."

"Had to keep my promise, didn't I?" he murmurs softly, his eyes searching mine, his smile fading as he lifts his good hand to cover mine, holding it against his cheek. "Had to protect you."