Sitting on my hospital bed, legs crossed, the doctor skimmed the light over my eyes, my pupils following it.
"Nothing wrong with your vision," he said.
"Doc, all I need is to get this"- I point to the gash- "mended."
"I understand, Miss Smith," he repeated for the sixth time.
"Well, do it already," I snapped.
Getting out some stitches, I widened my eyes when I saw the needle.
"You don't have a high pain threshold, do you?"
"A little bit."
"Then you might wanna bite down on this," he warned, putting a cotton ball in my mouth.
Surprisingly it was done in thirty seconds and didn't hurt a bit! Still, I'm not a huge fan of stitches. I don't like having black strings in my face; good thing I had my side bangs cover it. Tom's doctor, Westings, was walking with a clipboard.
I viscerally ran up to him, my hands clasped in a shaking fist.
"Is he okay, Doctor? I've been shaking like a damn leaf since we got here," I admitted. He chuckled, "Then you can stop. He's all right; alive and breathing."
Happiness popped into my body and my tears fall off my face. These were happy tears and not the tears of sadness.
"We put him on anesthetics for a while until he's done with surgery that's coming Monday," he explained.
"S-s-surgery? I thought you said he was all right."
"Yes, but I'm afraid the bullet hit a lower part of his right kidney, but no major organs were hit. He'll be set to a catheter for a few days."
"Thank God," I whispered.
"Also he's gonna have crutches for possibly a month."
"Broke his leg?" He nodded his head and was gonna say something else when three guys tapped his shoulder. They all looked about early-to-mid forties but still good-looking. The stout one had a squared neckline and wore glasses that tipped at his wide nose, his brownish-green eyes peering out. The taller one had a graying beard tinted with a salt-and-pepper color and silvery eyes. The last one looked shockingly older than them with thinning brown hair and extremely pretty light blue-green eyes. "Where's Tom?" asked the stout one.
"If you don't tell us, doc," added the tall one, stern with a neat British-maybe?-accent.
"So help us we'll burn this hospital down," said the older one with a fancy Scottish accent.
"Y'all know Tom?"
They looked over Westings' shoulder and said in unison, "You know him?"
"I'm his girlfriend for three years."
"In that case, I'm Sean, these foolish idiots are Dominic and Billy," introduced the stout one.
"Sorry to be nosy, but why exactly do you guys need to know where he is?"
"We're his best friends," said Dominic.
Confusion stirred within me and I cocked an eyebrow.
"Best friends?"
"Yeah, we're older than him, we know, but we've been buddies for years," told Billy.
I replied, "Looking for him, huh?"
"Miss Smith"- said Westings.
"Cool it, doc," Dominic interjected rudely.
"Room H54. It's right down the hallway behind me," I said.
"I-I wouldn't disturb him right now, Miss Smith and company, but he's on heavy tranquilizer. Best of the four of you go down to the cafeteria and eat something." We looked awkwardly at each other and Billy began, "May as well. I haven't in eaten in hours, Sean."
"Think they've got any pork-rinds in this place?" questioned Dominic.
"Come mere, Emily," said Sean, holding out an arm. I gazed down at the hallway, wondering about secretly seeing Emily while Westings wasn't in his room.
"Coming."
Dom and Billy scarfed themselves with the food in the cafeteria while Sean and I chatted. Turns out, he has a wife named Christine and three daughters.
As he drank at some Gold Peak tea, he caught sight of something.
"Oh, for God's sake," he muttered, keeping himself low.
"What?"
"See that brunette behind you? The one wearing the red coat?"
I obeyed his words and spotted a beautiful girl with short, dark sable hair tinted deep red making herself some coffee. The coat she was wearing was vermilion; very bright.
"So?"
"Keep your profile down low, honey."
I turned around to see the girl walk over here, snapping my head to face Sean.
"Sean...who's your lil' friend?" she asked, her husky voice a hint of German.
"Uhh, Emily, meet Jane. Jane, meet Emily," Sean answered.
"And exactly who are you supposed to be?" she interrogated.
"Tom's girlfriend. You got a problem?"
"A little bit. You see...I'm his ex."
YOU ARE READING
Our Wild Spirits
General FictionIf only I had another chance at life, thought insecure Emily when she seeks shelter in the arms of her gentle, ruggedly beautiful boyfriend Tom from the abusive clutches of her father after his sadistic beating. She finally finds the freedom she's b...
