Torin (Hope City #9) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,67

“I’m sure you wanted to come to find him.”

She held his gaze, desperately needing the connection. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what happened. He was… there was so much blood, and I just held him… it was… it was like before. I held his body… it was just like before…” She looked past Rory toward the bed, watching as Torin continued to sleep, drawing strength from his chest rising and falling with each breath. With a shaky exhalation, she lifted her hand and rubbed her forehead, wincing when her fingertips touched her bandage.

“Sean, why don’t you sit with Erin for a few minutes. I’m going to step out into the hall and call Tara.”

“Tara?” Erin asked, the ache in her head now pulsating.

“It’s okay, sis. I’m sure Tara is worried, and I’ll just let her know where you are.”

She nodded and laid her head back down on the mattress near Torin’s hand, fatigue weighing down on her. Sean followed Rory, and as her brothers stepped into the hall, she could still hear them talking.

“What the hell is going on?” Sean whispered.

“It’s like she’s shutting down. Exhaustion. Trauma. She’s talking and making some sense, but she’s disconnected.”

“What do you think we should do?”

Rory whispered in return, “I want to let the doctors know that she’s here because she didn’t finish getting checked out in the ER. When I was standing behind her, I could see that she had a laceration at the back of her head. She may even have a concussion. I also want to talk to Tara and see what she thinks. I know they’ve brought in a contingency of crisis counselors to the hospital that are here for those that need help.”

“I don’t mind telling you, I’m worried about her,” Sean said. “Two similar traumatic events may be more than she can handle. But I swear, I thought Torin was more of a friend and running buddy.”

“Then you haven’t been paying attention because, for the first time since she’s been home, it’s like she’d come out of a deep sleep. Now, I’m worried, too,” Rory agreed.

Her brothers finally stepped out of her hearing range, and she closed her eyes, too tired to worry about what they were discussing anymore.

20

Voices began encroaching on the dream Torin was having. As irritating as a mosquito buzzing about his head, as his consciousness pushed the fog of the anesthesia to the side, the words he heard started to make sense. It was a man’s voice. And a woman’s. No… two men’s voices, one sounding frustrated and the other sounding cautious. The female voice had started firm but was now reaching a strident whisper.

“You need to leave. You need to be checked out.”

“I’m not leaving his side. There’s nothing wrong with me that hasn’t already been looked at.”

“I checked with the ER nurse, and she said you left before the doctor discharged you.”

“I told you, I’m not leaving. I need to be here when he wakes up.”

“You can’t do him any good right now. He’s sleeping. His sister is on her way here. You’re the one who still has medical needs.”

“I’m fine!”

“Hell, you probably have a concussion or worse!”

“I’m not leaving!”

“We’re not asking you to leave forever. Just stay here in the hospital but have someone take a look at you.”

“I have to be in this room. I have to be here when he wakes up. I have to see that he wakes up. Can’t you understand that?”

Torin blinked his eyes open, the voices now louder and cutting through the fog of sleep. It took a few seconds for him to remember that he was in the hospital. While the three people in the corner of the room continued their whispered argument, he cast his mind back, remembering a doctor saying something about surgery.

He rolled his head to the side on the pillow and caught the eyes of one of the men in the room. Rory McBride.

“Torin!” Rory exclaimed.

Before he had a chance to respond, the woman turned around slowly, a wince crossing her face. She looked like hell with her pale face, dark circles under her eyes, and a bandage on her forehead, but his breath left his lungs as his gaze feasted upon her. The sight of her brought a calmness to his soul, even if nothing else in his mind was clear. “Erin,” he said, his voice barely a croak. Her face scrunched as she burst into tears, rushing toward him. His gaze moved down her shirt. What the