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Touching Scars(90)

By:Stacy Borel


“Okay.”

I went to the nurse’s station and let them know Timber was awake. A doctor followed me back to his room and started looking through his chart. “Hi, Mr. Nelson. I’m Dr. Tillman. How are you feeling?”

“Like the biggest piece of ass.”

I smiled at his candidness as Dr. Tillman cleared his throat. “Yes, well, you’ve been through quite a trauma. We went in and removed a bullet from your diaphragm and gave you several bags of blood. Fortunately, the surgery went well and we were able to patch you back up.”

Timber looked over at me, his blue eyes understanding my worry. “Am I going to be okay?”

Closing the chart, the doctor came over and listened to his heart with a stethoscope. “Well, it appears that way. Your heart is strong, your pulse is steady, and I have no doubt that you’ll make a full recovery. We’re going to have to keep you for at least a week to make sure any bleeding you may have isn’t more than what’s expected, and we need to make sure you’re able to get up on your own.”

“Sounds good, doc.” He laid his head back and closed his eyes.

“Miss Pierce, he’s going to need his rest. I’m going to have to ask you to go home and get some rest yourself. You can come back this afternoon when he’s gotten some sleep.”

Timber’s eyes opened and he was watching the exchange between the doctor and me. I dug my heels in and shook my head. “No, I’m staying.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.”

I bit my tongue and prayed I didn’t yell. “And I’m afraid I’m going to have to respectfully decline. I’m not leaving him.”

“Well, keep in mind that he’s only going to heal faster with rest.”

“Understood. Thank you.” It was my way of dismissing the doctor and telling him to fuck off. They couldn’t pry me away from Timber right now if they tried.

When we were alone again, Timber’s eyes were closed but his lips were tipped up in a small smile. “Well. You told him, didn’t you?”

“Shut up, you’re supposed to be resting. That means no talking.” I curled back up next to him, careful to not jostle him too much.

“Don’t make me laugh, Kat, I think it might hurt.”

“I think you’re right, so stop talking.”

He peeled one eye open and looked sideways at me. “You’ve gotten mouthier since I’ve been out.”

“Timber,” I scolded, closing my own eyes. I knew he was grinning at me.

It was quiet for a bit, but then he asked the question I knew was coming. “Is he dead?”

I turned my head to look at him, and he did the same. “Yes.”

“You shot him.”

“I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

His tired eyes softened. “You should have run to get help like I told you to.”

My eyes got watery. “If I had, you wouldn’t be here.”

I felt his fingers slip through mine, giving my hand a squeeze. “Let’s not think about that, okay? I love you, but the next time I tell you to go do something, I mean it.” His deep voice scratched.

“Fine, but you better not ever scare me like this again. I won’t survive it.”

Timber yawned hugely. I knew he needed to get some sleep, but just hearing his voice was soothing me. “Never, baby.”

“Get some rest,” I whispered, brushing his messy black hair back from his face. In the short time that he’d been awake, his coloring had already turned brighter. He was going to be okay. My man was a fighter, and he’d never leave me if he could help it. Sighing, I watched him as he slept, continuing to count his breaths and feeling his heartbeat beneath my fingertips.





(2 months later)





“TIMBER, WOULD YOU HURRY UP? Ed wanted to meet us downstairs like ten minutes ago,” Kat grumbled, slipping on her shirt and stepping into a pair of shoes.

“Never, woman. You keep looking like that and I’ll be forced to get you naked again. I’m pretty sure I haven’t licked the tattoo on the back of your calf yet.” I heard her gasp and I chuckled. “Let’s not keep the old man waiting.”

I swatted her butt on the way out the door and she gave a little yelp. When we were both downstairs, Ed was standing behind the bar, drinking a bottle of beer and looking around the place with reminiscent eyes.

“Hey, you two, come over here and have a seat. I’ve got some paperwork for you to look over.”

Kat and I sat down on a bar stool and looked down at the stack of papers in front of him. “What is all this?” Kat asked.

He looked across at her with love shining through his eyes. “This is the deed to the bar. I’ve gotten a few legal papers drawn up to transfer this place over from my name to yours, and the lawyer put these tabs on here so we know where to sign.”