in your shoulders or back. All of which should clear up on its own in the next couple weeks.”
Dani nodded, mentally ticking off things he was going to need or need to do after discharge. There would be prescriptions to fill, follow-up visits to attend, schedules to rearrange, and help he might need until the chest pain dissipated enough for him to be lifting or bending.
“When can I go back to work?” Sean asked.
“You’re a firefighter?” Dr. Mitchell asked. Dani mentally cringed—there was no way he was going to like her answer. When Sean nodded, the doc continued, “Assuming your vision and chest pain clears up, I would think you could get back to work in three or four weeks, depending on your pain level and recovery.”
Sean blanched. “Four weeks?”
“All things considered, you were pretty lucky tonight, Mr. Riddick. But your injuries are going to take some time to heal.” Dr. Mitchell rose. “We’re going to keep you overnight to see how your eye progresses, so they’ll be moving you upstairs soon.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Sean managed as she left. He dropped his head back against the bed.
Dani took up the doc’s seat on the stool. “I know it’s a lot, but it’s good news, Sean.”
He blew out a breath that sent him into a coughing fit. He curled into himself trying to avoid the pain of it.
“I’m going to get you another pillow. If you hug it when you need to cough, it makes it hurt less.” She put a hand on his knee. “Be right back, okay?”
“Yeah,” he managed.
She went to retrieve the pillow, and several of the other nurses stopped her along the way.
“Hope your friend’s okay, Dani,” one said.
“I’m praying for your friend,” said another.
“I was sorry to hear about your friend, Dani,” a third called. Friend. In that moment, she had no problem thinking of Sean Riddick that way.
“Thanks,” Dani said each time. She returned to his room to find his eyes closed, so she eased the pillow down next to him and returned to the waiting room to fill the others in and tell them they might as well head home since Sean was being admitted.
Not that Dani was going anywhere. No, this time she wasn’t missing a chance to be there.
Sometimes, atonement was all you had, even if you could never truly atone for the things you did wrong.
Fuuuuuck.
That was Sean’s first thought upon waking to the gray light of morning spilling through the window of his hospital room. Every fucking thing hurt.
His face. His head. His chest. His back. His hands.
The mental calculus went on long enough that he decided he should catalog what didn’t hurt… His feet, thanks to the pair of shitkickers he’d been wearing. And his dick, thanks to God.
Bleary eyed, he lifted his head, then blinked twice. Because the pain was making him hallucinate. Either that or he was actually seeing Daniela curled up asleep in a chair across the room. Her expression relaxed, her hair like a shawl of black silk all around her shoulders, her face so damn pretty.
Why was she here?
Swallowing made him feel like he’d spent the night walking through a desert, so he reached for the Styrofoam cup with a bendy straw sticking up through its lid that was sitting on the rolling table next to his bed. But the fucking bandages on his hand made it so that he couldn’t grab the damn thing. Worse, he knocked it over trying.
“Damnit,” he said, instinctively lurching to catch it.
Which, holy shit, was the wrooooong goddamned thing to do. He grunted against the pain, which threw him into a coughing fit that made his chest feel like he’d been recently body-slammed by a box truck. A scorching hot pain exploded through his lungs until he was clutching his pecs and balling up.
A hand on his shoulder. Soothing words in his ear he couldn’t quite make out over the roar in his head. A pillow pushed into his arms that provided an easing counterpressure.
“Jesus,” Sean finally rasped, struggling to breathe and trying to avoid breathing deeply all at the same time. “What the fuck.”
“Chest wall injuries are a bitch,” Dani said, standing right behind him.
He peered up at her with his one good eye. “No shit.”
She smirked. “I won’t bother asking how you’re feeling.”
Hugging the pillow, he slowly rolled back against the bed. The effort it took made him swallow hard, but his throat was so dry it hurt.
Dani didn’t have to be asked. She brought the straw