Page 59 of Point Proven
Shifting the bandage wrapped around my arm, I laced my fingers with his, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. If not for their efforts, he wouldn’t evenbehere. While the first battle was over, his recovery would depend on him. Thorne, my love, was a fighter, but he’d fought his entire life.
He always carried heavy burdens, shouldering too much until the weight became impossible to maintain. This wouldn’t be any different, and while I wanted to see his smile, hear his laughter, and feel the warmth of his skin against mine, he needed rest.Actualrest that he never had the opportunity to take before.
Scrunching my nose, I winced at the movement, the rawness seeping into my cheeks, dried saltwater irritating the afflicted skin. I wasn’t sure how long I cried in Simon’s arms before he whisked me into the back of the ambulance.
It was a moment frozen in time—a moment I would never forget as they worked desperately to restart his heart. Each arch of his back from the shocks sent an inhumane cry from me. Without Simon’s hold, I would’ve collapsed there like the fragmented pieces of my necklace all those months ago.
Clearing my throat, I whisked that to the back of my mind, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was just us in here, Simon having excused himself to check on Matt and Levander a few rooms down the hall.
Levander had a gunshot wound to the thigh, but it was nothing a few stitches couldn’t fix. The bullet had missed any major arteries. While Matt didn’t have any wounds, he remained beside the Mafia king until he was placed in good hands. Once reassured he’d be okay, Matt stayed by me the entire evening, his tears muddying mine as the ramifications of just how bad Thorne had been struggling sank in.
Blowing out a shuddered exhale, I brought Thorne’s hand to my cheek, nuzzling it softly. The touch alone had my eyes watering, and I shut them to stop myself from crying again.
“God…” Biting my trembling lip, I nestled further into that caress. “God, I’m so fucking sorry for everything. You… You’re the best thing to ever happen to me… and… and I…”
Pausing, I swallowed the lump forming. Mouth dry from lack of hydration, I peeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth. Ignoring the building need for fluids, I continued.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve… should’ve noticed that man. I had the chance to kill him, and now… now you’re hurt, and it’smyfault. My fault for a lot of things?—”
A soft groan rolled from him, cutting off my utterance. His fingers flexed around my hand as he stirred slightly, lids twitching as he started coming to.
“H-Hey,” I shouted, chair scooting as I stood. “He’s waking up!” Maintaining my grip, I fumbled for the device next to his bed and pressed the call button furiously. “Take it slow.”
Thorne’s brows furrowed as he slowly opened his eyes, and their usual caramel hue dimmed slightly. Focusing on me, a lazy smile painted his lips as he spoke, his voice rasped from lack of use. “Hey.”
Releasing his hand, my fingers threaded through his hair, gently pushing strands back. My vision blurred, and my breath hitched as I tried to mirror his expression.
“You… You should take it easy. Nurse should be here soon.”
As if he didn’t hear a word I said, his elbow sank into the hospital bed as he pushed himself back in an attempt to sit upright. Grunting, his facial features scrunched with the influx of pain as he blew out a sharp, hissed breath between clenched teeth.
“What are you doing?” Pressing my palms against his shoulders, I halted his movement. “Baby, stop!”
“I-I’m… fine,” he muttered, as he slumped with a satisfied exhale against the slightly elevated mattress.
“And I’m straight,” I snapped, harsher than I meant to as my hands cradled his face. Bringing my gaze to his, I leaned closer. “Stitches. You’ll… You’ll open them if you keep moving.”
“I’m very familiar with stitches, Oren Graves.” Craning his head to glance over at me now that he was seated, he lifted his brows with a snarky expression as if to say, “I told you so.”
“So am I, Thorne Graves,” I breathed, unable to keep the waver from my tone as I memorized that honeyed color I thought I would never get to see again. “Are… Are you really…”
Striations danced across his jaw as he adjusted himself one final time. “Am I really what?”
Pressing my forehead against his, wetness trickled, slipping over my lips as I swiped it away with my tongue. “Breathing. You’re breathing.”
“I mean, I hope so; otherwise this whole… waking up thing would be rather weird,” he chuckled, a groan of anguish mixing with his laughter.
I tried to mimic his joy, but it faltered on a sob, my arms carefully wrapping around his shoulders. “I tried to pump your lungs, but it didn’t work. I’m… I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I know you did…” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of my head. “I still… I could still feel you.”
Clinging to him tighter, I basked in the simplicity of his chest rising and the warmth of him. “How… You… You did?”
“Not a damn idea.” His lips brushed my ear. “But I did.”
“You… You fought really hard.” Playing with the ends of his hair, I breathed in that familiar scent of pine.
“For you… I fought for you.”
