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Mitch rested his head against the wall, the sound of the heart monitor oddly soothing. His eyes ached, his body ached, and he desperately needed a shower, but he didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t want Zoe to wake up alone.
He sipped on the coffee one of the nurses had brought him, and he now regretted refusing the piece of cake she’d also offered. He hadn’t been able to stomach it then, but that was an hour ago and now it was looking much more appealing.
His soul felt tired—exhausted—in a way he hadn’t felt since Chiara’s death. So much death, so much pain, and Zoe was still fighting for her life. Peter’s knife hadn’t made a clean cut and had damaged her small intestines, causing her to lose a lot of blood. If Dr. Roberts hadn’t operated when he had, she wouldn’t be here now.
Keep fighting, Zoe. Our story is just beginning.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. Jackson entered, his eyes on Zoe. “How is she doing?”
Mitch sighed heavily. “Stable. I think that’s all we can expect right now.”
Jackson nodded, pulling a chair over to sit next to Mitch.
“Well, Jonathan is in the morgue with the woman who was on the table next to Zoe. Lillian Holmes—a pharmacist who worked at a pharmacy near Peter’s house. She was reported missing yesterday when she didn’t arrive for work. She lived on her own and hadn’t been seen since her last shift, which was four days earlier.”
Mitch blew out a long breath. “How old was she?”
“Twenty-seven,” Jackson said, his eyes on Zoe. “I know this is not the outcome you wanted—that any of us wanted—but Peter is in a cell, Jonathan is in the morgue, and my gut tells me Zoe’s going to be fine.”
Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Your gut tells you that, huh?”
Jackson gave him a sad smile. “She’s knows how to fight. Do you want me to stay here with her so you can get a few hours of sleep? You should also put some ice on your jaw; you’re going to have a real bruiser.”
Mitch smiled despite his worry. “Thank you, but no, I’ll stay. You go and get some rest. We’re going to have a few busy days of paperwork ahead.”
Jackson nodded and stood. “Call me if you need anything.”
Mitch nodded back. “Thank you,” he said. “Can you go past my house and check on Gus and play with him for a bit?”
Jackson grinned. “Of course I can.”
Mitch’s neighbor had fed him, but Mitch didn’t like him left on his own too long.
His eyes went back to Zoe.
Dragging his chair closer to her bed, he took her hand, threading his fingers between hers.
“Come on, Zoe. Wake up, please,” he said, but her eyelids remained closed.
CHAPTER40
ZOE
“Mitch,” she said, her throat scratching.
“Mitch.”
He slowly raised his head, looking disoriented. It seemed to take him a few moments to realize where he was.
He looked to Zoe, his face softening.
“Hey,” he said, standing. He leaned over her and kissed the crown of her head and she exhaled, his embrace soothing her rattled soul.
“Hey,” she said, her voice raspy—no doubt sore from the tube that would’ve been put down her throat for surgery.
He sat back in the chair, squeezing her hand. “How are you feeling?”
That was a good question, she thought. She felt emotional, weak, tired, nauseous. Slowly the memories from last night were coming back to her, but parts seemed to be missing. The last thing she could remember was falling and closing her eyes; then the sound of water, and now she was here.
