Cruel Summer - Page 136

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: WINTER

Iletouta groan, wincing when I try to move my leg and pain shoots through it.

Where am I?

I blink my eyes open, expecting to find myself in my room, but instead I’m in a… hospital room?

No, it’s the infirmary room at The Costa’s compound but it looks like things have been rearranged. There’s a monitor next to the cot that I’m lying on and wires run from it to my arm. I look down at the IV inserted into my wrist amid the blood pressure cuff on my upper arm. One of those little sensors used for testing oxygen is on my pointer finger.

The machine beeps loudly as I turn my head, fighting back nausea.

What the hell is going on?

I try to wrack my brain for how I ended up here, but I come up blank. All of my limbs feel heavy, my right leg, no thigh, the only thing that truly hurts. There’s a little throbbing in the back of my head but it’s not too bad.

I turn my head from one side to the other, but no matter how many times I look, I’m still in the room alone.

Thin blankets are covering me, but whatever I have on feels nice against my skin, warm and silky. I yawn, drowsiness washing over me as my head starts to dip to the side against my will. When I blink I can’t open my eyes again, already asleep.

When I wake again, the room isn’t empty.

I peer over at the familiar doctor. Her back is to me and she seems to be recording my vitals onto a clipboard in her hand. I have the odd thought that that seems weird. Who exactly is she holding these records for?

She turns around, her gaze going to my hand. She adjusts the oxygen sensor before her hands are reaching for the blood pressure cuff. Her eyes lift to mine and she pauses, her lips parting as she realizes I’m awake.

“Winter,” she says softly. I blink at her but my throat feels too dry to speak. She places the clipboard on the table next to my bed before pulling a flashlight out of her coat. She flashes the light in my eyes and when I turn my head away with a groan, she apologizes. “I just wanted to test your pupil reactions now that you’re up. You hit your head pretty hard and with head injuries, it’s always hard to determine the extent until the victim is awake.”

Victim?

What the fuck happened?

Again, it feels like there’s this block in my head, memories wanting to come through but they’re just out of reach.

The doctor’s face pinches and she holds out a hand. “One moment.” She rushes out of the door, leaving me alone in the room with nothing but the beeping monitors.

I roll my head from side to side, my neck feeling stiff. There’s a pulsing pressure in the back of my head.

The door flies open and the nurse is coming back in, followed by Giovanni, Maximo, Vito, and Enzo. Enzo remains by the door after it closes, Maximo hovering a few feet away from him, and Giovanni takes up post against the wall. Vito moves next to my bed, his eyes moving over my face. He reaches out, running his fingers over my arm. “Winter.”

My throat still feels too dry and to be honest, I’m a little confused.

How did I end up here?

“She hasn’t said anything,” the doctor says after Vito’s gaze moves to her.

“Maybe if you gave her some fucking water she would, but you know, that’s just a guess on my part,” Maximo says in irritation.

The doctor’s cheeks flush and she hurries over to a bag sitting on the table. She pulls out a bottle of water that looks to be cold, perspiration dripping down the sides of it. She hustles back over to the bed, popping the top off. Her hand moves to the arm of the cot and a groan moves through the room before I’m slowly being lifted up into a sitting position. She presses the bottle of water to my lips, helping me drink.

The cool liquid sliding down my throat instantly helps and I inhale a deep breath, reclining my head back when I’ve downed half the bottle.

Everyone in the room is quiet for a moment. Vito has taken a couple of steps away from the bed.

He speaks now, keeping his eyes on me, his hands folded into his pockets. “Winter, can you talk to us a little bit?”

I swallow, before nodding. “Y… yes.” My throat still feels a little too scratchy and dry but it isn’t unbearable.

“What do you remember, Winter?”

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