Chapter 51. Covering Their Tracks
I sit alone, staring at my hands, while passing doctors and nurses give me looks of pity. It pisses me off that they’re looking at me this way, but even I knew that I looked like a fucking wreck. I wore hospital scrubs since my clothes were lost when I shifted, and my hands and arms still held signs of being burned when I burst into that house to save Denali without thinking once about my own fucking life. But I was sure the thing that looked the worst was my face, which held everything. Every fucking bit of panic and fear I was feeling.
Fabian mirrors my emotions, whimpering and pacing while we wait to see how our woman is doing.
So far, Denali has been in surgery for over an hour. It was an agonizing fucking hour where I didn’t have any answers or know what was going on. And when I asked, I was simply told that sometimes it takes a bit to inflate a lung and then stop the bleeding, but how fucking long did it actually take?
I hated this, and I
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