Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Somehow, I knew without really knowing that this was all Ramsay.
Somehow, he’d not only found the man who did this to me, but he’d found evidence that led back to Halston Cole.
That raised the question: Where was Ramsay now?
31. Tierney
The next two days seemed to drag on forever. I insisted Cammie leave to get some sleep, so she booked into a nearby hotel and returned the next day.
Ramsay hadn’t shown again, but Cammie told me there were two new guys guarding my door. How Ramsay had gotten away with planting private security in a public hospital ward, I had no idea.
My surgeon told me I was healing nicely and my vitals were great, that they were happy to discharge me in the morning. I was surprised by how quickly I was allowed to leave until Cammie informed me that was standard with the National Health Service these days. They always needed beds and thus worked to unburden the system by discharging patients as expediently as possible. It didn’t worry me. I’d rather be home.
About an hour later, because there was no cell signal inside the building, a nurse came in to let Cammie know someone had called the ward for her. When she returned, she told me the call was from Ramsay and he was on his way. He’d be there in the morning to take me home.
It irritated me to have my life managed without discussion, but I didn’t let Cammie see. She didn’t deserve my frustration. Instead, I told her to go home, that I would be fine on my own. Reluctantly, she left, and I had a fitful night’s sleep, stressed about who Ramsay was and what he’d been up to while I recovered in the hospital.
The next morning, I opened my eyes and found Ramsay sitting in the chair, watching me. His expression was soft, unguarded. I watched him close down as soon as he realized I was awake. His features hardened into a cool, detached facade.
Dread knotted my gut.
“Mornin’.” Ramsay straightened in the chair. “Do you need anything?”
“Where were you?” My voice was still gritty with sleep.
“Taking care of some things.” He stood. “I’ll get the nurse.”
“No, I’m fi—” My words faded to silence because he’d already left the room.
He returned with Janet who asked if I wanted breakfast before they discharged me. I wasn’t hungry, so I shook my head. She glanced between me and Ramsay with a wrinkle between her eyebrows, as if she sensed our tension.
Before any more could be said, however, he left again to wait for me outside. There were no shadows at my door, so he must have dismissed the private security, people I never got to meet or thank.
Janet waited outside the shower for me in case I needed assistance. The hot water felt great, but I was exhausted and sore. The attack had taken its toll on my entire body, not just my gut. Being the sweetest person alive, Janet offered to braid my wet hair, which I gratefully allowed her to do. Cammie had brought clean clothes for my discharge per the hospital’s recommendation: clean underwear, yoga pants with a low waistband, a long-sleeved loose tee, socks, and comfy sneakers. Stretching my arms up to put on the tee hurt like a bitch, so I learned quickly to keep my arms as low as possible while dressing.
Finally, I was ready to go. Hospital policy dictated I had to leave in a wheelchair, and Ramsay was waiting with it in the room. We shared a loaded look before Janet steadied me as I lowered into it.
My surgeon, Dr. Vincent, showed up to go over the meds I needed to take during my recovery and to discuss my suture aftercare. Once I signed my discharge papers, Dr. Vincent turned to me with a gentle smile. “We’ll coordinate with your local doctor’s surgery for the check-up appointment so you don’t have to travel all the way up here. If your doctor thinks you need to see me, we’ll arrange that then, but I’m optimistic your wound will heal nicely.”
“Thank you, Dr. Vincent. For everything.”
He gave me another kind smile, an expression that changed when he looked up at Ramsay. “Next time, please don’t lie to medical professionals about your legal relationship to a patient. NHS Scotland has a confidentiality obligation that you put at risk. Thankfully, in this case, Ms. Silver has retroactively granted us permission to share her medical information with you, Mr. McRae.”
If Dr. Vincent thought Ramsay would show some kind of remorse for lying, he was sure to be disappointed. Ramsay stared stonily at him. I had to give it to Dr. Vincent because he wasn’t intimidated. His lips turned down in disapproval, but his expression softened when he looked to me. He pressed a hand to my shoulder and squeezed. “Take care of yourself, Tierney.”