Page 204 of Damián

“Still,” he gestures at his tattooed, bare chest, which is covered by a thick bandage. “Viking blood.”

“You are so fucking annoying,” I grunt.

Björn bursts out laughing and pats my leg. “I’m glad you’re better now.”

“Be glad when you’re—”

SLAM!

The door swings open, and Tae walks in. Right on his heels is an older man in a white lab coat whose face is so red he looks like he is about to have a stroke.

“Do whatever the hell you want!” the doctor growls.

He snatches my medical chart from the foot of the bed and shoves it into Tae’s hands. Tae smiles and starts reading the chart.

The doctor turns around, his brown eyes bloodshot and ringed with dark bags, and glares at me with exhaustion.

“You’re free to leave, Mr. Soto! Sign the AMA forms at the desk, because I am washing my hands of this entire circus,” he states before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

“You know, Tae…” Leif smiles. “You really need to be nicer to the doctors. The man went to school for twelve years.”

“The man needs to be less incompetent,” Tae answers without looking up from the paperwork.

Alexios lets out a soft snort, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tae, he’s the best trauma surgeon in New York City.”

“Then he should learn how to have thicker skin,” Tae replies, his eyes narrowing as he flips to the next page. “Besides, I can take care of Damián better than this entire wing combined. Half of these charts are missing post-op notes, and his vitals tracking is completely incomplete. It’s pathetic.”

“I’m pretty sure they have it covered,” I tell him, trying to calm him down, but nope… our beautiful non-Korean idol sprints toward the door.

“I’m going to go find that incompetent idiot and make him fix this,” he says, leaving the room.

We all stare at the door in silence.

“Should we go save the doctor?” Leif asks.

“Nah…” I shake my head. “Though he’s probably going to get us banned from this hospital, too.”

“You know how he is. He doesn’t trust anyone on this planet to take care of us but himself,” Alexios says, passing me the glass of water again.

I take a sip of the water, and against my will, my mind drifts back to him.

Oliver.

It’s been almost a week since I woke up, and I haven’t seen him.

I miss him.

“Has Oliver come by?” I ask no one in particular.

Knox sighs, shaking his head. “No. Not since you woke up.”

My heart drops into my stomach.

Fuck, Ollie…

I turn my head to see the chair next to the window. The day I woke up, Björn told me Oliver spent all day and all night sitting in that chair, holding my hand while I was unconscious.

Every single day and night, until a cartel guy had to come and fuck it up.