Meant to Be (The Saving Angels 1)

I started to get out of the bed, but Sam laid a restraining hand on my shoulder.

“You have to rest,” she told me.

I ignored her and pushed myself off of the bed. I gripped the rail when a moment of dizziness hit me. Closing my eyes, I fought to regain my equilibrium. The dizziness left and I turned to Sam with determination.

“I need to see him; will you take me to him?” I asked with steel in my voice.

Sam looked at me in surprise. She was used to seeing me struggling with my weaknesses, but those days were over. I was no longer weak, and I would no longer be the victim of my emotions.

Sam grabbed my hand and guided me out of the room. We walked past several rooms and stopped in front of the bay of elevators. Sam pushed the up button and the elevator doors opened. She helped me into the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor... Sam turned and looked at me. I knew that she had many questions, but I could not answer any of them until I saw Mark.

I had to see with my own eyes that he was okay. Only then would I be able to function again, but until I knew for sure, my body was simply moving on auto pilot.

The elevator doors opened on Mark’s floor and we stepped out. Sam led me past a waiting room that had a sign proclaiming it as, Surgery Waiting Room. I did not give a single thought to the three other people in the waiting room nor did I acknowledge them as they watched Sam and I walk down the hall.

Sam stopped in front of the nurse’s station and told the nurse behind the counter that I was her brother’s fiancée and wanted to see him.

I gave her and odd look.

The nurse filled out a pass and handed it to me. I put it on with trembling fingers.

I walked toward his room leaving Sam behind. I paused outside his room with one hand on the doorknob and for the first time since he had been shot, I felt the first stirrings of hope.

I twisted the knob and walked into his room and approached his bed with quiet feet, but stopped when he turned to look at me.

I felt hot tears burn down my cheeks as he gave me a small smile. I muffled a half sob as I rushed to his side.

I reached for his hand and was surprised by his strong grip as he held onto my hand.

“I was so scared you were going to die,” I said in a broken voice.

“I know. I could hear you. I wanted to answer you, but nothing would work,” Mark said in a scratchy voice. “What happened?”

I filled him in on everything that had happened, sugar coating nothing. I told him how I thought he was dead and had wished for death myself. I told him about the gun fight and Bruno saving us. Finally, he knew everything.

He held my hand through it all and his eyes clouded over when I told him about wishing for death. He cringed when he realized how close I had come to being shot and his eyes turned deadly when he heard that his dad tried to shoot me.

“I’m going to stop him,” Mark swore in a voice I had never heard him use.

I did not shy away from the suggestion since I had similar thoughts when he had shot Mark. He tried to destroy us and we would not rest until he was stopped.

With all my words spent, I laid my head on his heart while he stroked my hair. I felt all the emptiness in me disappear and soon I began to feel the familiar warmth from his touch spread through my body.

I turned my head and pressed a light kiss to his jaw and heard his murmur of approval. I was just about to trail more kisses along his neck when the door opened.

Two police officers entered the room. One looked to be in his sixties with more gray than brown hair on his head. He had the typical beer belly you expected to see on a cop from the cliché of being doughnut eaters. The second officer was the exact opposite. He was well over six feet tall and was as thin as an anorexic model. He looked only a few years older than me and had the kindest eyes I had ever seen. I felt instantly at ease in his presence.

I sat up straighter as they approached the bed.

“We don’t mean to intrude, but we have a few questions about the shooting,” the older officer asked.

“Okay,” I said, answering for both of us.

>He approached us as Mark and I passed our thoughts back and forth.

Focus. We have to block him out, I thought to Mark.

The connection was unlike anything I had felt before. I could feel Russo inside my head, probing my thoughts. I concentrated as hard as I could to push him out and could tell by his expression that it was working.