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Miles was currently pacing back and forth down the hallway, trying to keep his mind off anything bad. He didn’t want to think of the worst thing that could happen.
She could die while Angelo tried to save her.
He shook his head. He needed to get his head wrapped around what he needed to do while she was in there with Angelo and the nurses.
Richard was still out there. Miles needed to find him and take care of him if it was the last thing he did.
He didn’t deserve to be alive right now for what he’d done to Storm. She was an innocent person and he had taken it too far by kidnapping then torturing her.
“Miles!” Hedda yelled.
He turned around and watched as a worried Hedda came toward him.
“What happened?” she asked.
“We found her,” he replied.
“You found Storm? How is she doing?”
He looked over at the doors where Angelo, Lizzy, Maggie, and Anita had walked through with Storm. There were two guards there, ready to hold him back if he decided he couldn’t take this anymore and needed to see her.
Rogan had placed them there as soon as Anita finished taking his blood. Miles disagreed and told him it wasn’t necessary, but all Rogan did was raise his eyebrow and walk off.
Maybe what Rogan did was necessary. In the back of his mind, he knew if there weren’t any guards there, he would have walked past those doors a long time ago.
Angelo and the nurses needed all the space they could get and him being in the room wasn’t going to help anything. He didn’t like it, but that was how it was. Miles would be worried about Storm and anything they did to her. He would ask questions, questions that Angelo or the nurses didn’t need to be answering until they got done with what they were doing.
It sucked, but Miles knew Angelo and Rogan were right in him needing to be out here with the guards there.
He just didn’t like it.
“She’s in surgery. Storm got shot,” he replied, looking back at Hedda.
A small gasp fell through her lips and her hands went up, covering them. Tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
“R-Really?” she whispered. “I-Is she going to make it?”
Miles cleared his throat. “I hope so.”
He sat down in one of the chairs and put his head in his hands. How could he have let this happen? Why didn’t he watch over her after he left?
Miles should have been more careful when he went to her in the first place. But at the time, he was worried about Storm and if she was okay or not. He put her in danger, and he would never forgive himself for that.
“She was bound to a chair when we got there, blood soaking her shirt,” he hoarsely said. “I don’t know how long she had been like that, bleeding from the bullet wound. It could have been hours.”
“But you got to her,” Hedda whispered, sitting down next to him. “You found her and saved her.”
“I thought she was dead when I first picked her up. Her skin was so cold, like she had been in a freezer for hours, but the slight rise in her chest told me she was alive.”
They sat in silence for a little while. He didn’t know what to do or say.
What does a person say in this situation?
Miles had never cared about a girl like this before. He had never been in a situation like this where he cared for the girl deeply.
“She’s going to make it through this,” Hedda said. “I just know it. She’s a tough cookie and she’s going to survive.”
So many things were going through Miles' mind at this moment. Would she survive this? Was she tough enough to pull through?
