Until Autumn - Sheridan Anne Page 0,81

his hands is horrendous, and I honestly don’t know when I’ll be willing to get back into the OR to assist on a cesarean again. I know I want to, I wish I could be strong enough to move straight past it, but I fear that the second I step in beside the doctor, all the memories are going to come flooding back with a vengeance.

The phone rings and my head whips around. Patricia is on it like a leech, scooping up the receiver, her eyes flicking to mine as the phone is slammed against her ear. “Maternity,” she rushes out.

Her eyes remain locked on mine, tight and haunted as the person on the other end explains what’s going on. Then finally, her whole demeanor changes as she sags with relief. “Oh, thank god,” she sighs. “He’s out and he’s doing alright. He should be waking in the next hour or so.”

I crumble onto the desk as the relief surges through me. “What room?”

“Recovery. Room 1410,” she says.

I take off like a bat out of hell, racing through the hospital to reach the recovery ward. I haven’t had to be down here often, only when it’s crazy busy and they need a few extra hands, but for the most part, the maternity ward has its own little recovery section that does us just fine.

My gaze sweeps over the doors, scanning for his room number but I don’t really need to as a group of nurses and doctors stand hovered outside one particular room, gaping through the window as though he’s some kind of sideshow, put there for their entertainment and gossip.

I reach his door and fly straight through it before turning on the crowd and pulling the curtain closed to give Thorne the privacy he needs. I hear them all grumbling, some demanding to know why I get to be in here when I don’t even work on this ward.

I ignore every single one of them and turn to take in Thorne fast asleep in his bed. My heart aches for him. I hate seeing him like this. There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do to take his pain away. I wish it was me. I would have jumped in front of that bullet a million times over if I could.

I make my way over to Thorne’s bedside and instantly scan over the bloodstains that are covering his body. He should have been cleaned up, but I guess it wasn’t exactly the kind of procedure that allowed much time for the little things.

Walking over to the small storage cupboard, I grab a bowl, some disinfectant, and some sponges before making my way into the private bathroom and quickly filling the bowl with warm water.

I put myself right in front of Thorne and instantly begin washing the dried blood from his skin as I watch him sleep. His face is pale, void of all its usual color, but for the most part, he looks peaceful. I don’t doubt that he’s in a world of pain though.

The sponge gently roams over his warm, tanned skin, washing away the horrors of the day. I do the best I can, trying to scrub it all from his body but having someone sponge it off is nothing like standing under a proper shower and being able to scrub yourself clean. Though, it might be a while before he’s able to stand up and do those things for himself.

The minutes tick by, and while it’s only just been over half an hour, it feels like a lifetime that I’ve been waiting for his eyes to begin fluttering open. A low groan pulls from within his chest as he takes a moment to recall the bullshit that he just suffered through, and not a second later, his eyes widen with horror. “Fuck,” he curses, attempting to sit up in bed. “I got shot.”

“Hey,” I say, rushing right into his side and pressing my hands to his shoulders, trying to keep him as still as possible. “You’re okay. We’re all okay.”

Thorne takes in my face, his eyes bouncing over it, taking in every tiny detail before his arms wrap around my body and crush me to him. He breathes me in as though having me in his arms is all he’s ever wanted. “Fuck, Autumn. I thought I was never going to see you again.”

The raw emotion in his voice overwhelms me, and I bury my face into his shoulder. “I was so scared,” I tell him. “I thought