Chapter 27 Keira Also Encountered a Shooting?
Sloane's POV
"Look, your neurological function is basically intact." There was a hint of relief in David's tone. He looked up at me, his gaze gentle yet firm. "Don't worry, as long as the debridement and suturing are done well, followed by systematic rehabilitation training, it won't affect your ability to hold a scalpel."
Those words were like a shot in the arm, finally giving my crumbling emotions something to hold onto.
David began emergency treatment on my wound. While cleaning the blood around it, he issued instructions to the nurse—everything proceeding in an orderly manner.
Watching his focused profile, that overwhelming panic in my heart finally subsided a bit.
"Can you even do this?"
A cold, skeptical voice rang out at this inopportune moment.
Jared stood to the side, looking down at David with eyes that seemed to be examining some third-rate intern, full of distrust and criticism.
"My wife's hand isn't for just anyone to practice on," he said slowly, his tone dripping with undisguised contempt and warning.
David's movements paused, his fingertips holding my wrist going rigid.
He looked up, meeting Jared's oppressive gaze, and pulled out an ID badge from his white coat pocket, holding it up in front of Jared.
"Mr. Montclair, this is my work ID. Chief researcher at the Green Foundation, specializing in neurosurgery and microsurgical repair." He paused, putting the badge away, then turned his gaze to me, his voice gentle but firm. "More importantly, I'm Sloane's colleague. I understand better than anyone what these hands mean to her. I won't gamble with her future."
His words were neither humble nor arrogant, proving both his expertise and his position.
The tight line of Jared's jaw didn't relax one bit. He stared hard at David, distrust practically spilling from his eyes.
"I'm doing the sutures," David announced, cutting the other guy off entirely. His eyes found mine, intense and unwavering. "Sloane—do you trust me?"
I looked at his clear, determined eyes, then glanced at Jared beside him, radiating a violent aura. The scales in my heart tipped instantly.
I nodded, my voice trembling from pain and fear. "I trust you."
With my consent, David immediately began preparations.
Jared was left standing there, looking like a storm cloud, but he kept his mouth shut this time.
The surgery went smoothly.
The local anesthesia kept me from feeling pain, but I could clearly hear the delicate sounds of instruments clinking, could feel David's needle and thread moving through my flesh.
My rational mind told me David's technique was excellent, but the fear of the unknown still washed over me like waves, again and again.
When I was wheeled out of the operating room and into a VIP ward, I felt like I'd been pulled from water—weak and drained.
Lila and my colleagues were still there. David gave the nurse a few instructions, then gently told me, "The surgery was very successful. Both nerves and tendons are preserved. What comes next is a long recovery period. Sloane, you need to be patient."
I nodded, but tears disobediently streamed down my face again.
Seeing my unstable emotions, everyone tactfully left. Soon only Jared and I remained in the room.
He pulled over a chair and sat by my bed, saying nothing, just staring at me unblinkingly with those deep black eyes.
Under his gaze, I felt uncomfortable all over and simply closed my eyes, pretending to sleep.
After some unknown amount of time, I felt the mattress dip slightly—he'd sat on my bed.
The next second, a warm hand covered my forehead, his crisp scent enveloping me.
My body stiffened, but I didn't dare move.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked, his voice unprecedentedly hoarse and weary.
I shook my head.
He didn't believe me. He leaned down and carefully gathered me, blanket and all, into his arms, his movements gentle.
My head rested against his solid chest, listening to his steady, powerful heartbeat. That coldness spreading from my wrist through my whole body seemed to be dispelled somewhat by his warmth.
"I found out," he suddenly said, his voice low, carrying a hint of cold murderous intent. "It was the brother of the man who kidnapped you last time. He's been looking for a chance to get revenge on you."
My heart sank sharply, the blood in my body seeming to freeze.
So it wasn't an accident—it was deliberate revenge.
I didn't dare imagine what would have happened if there hadn't been so many people today, if that bullet had been just a bit off... The overwhelming fear made my whole body tremble. I instinctively clutched the fabric at his chest.
"Don't be afraid." He tightened his arms, holding me even closer, his chin resting lightly on top of my head. "He won't have another chance to hurt anyone."
Those words were said casually, but I detected a bloody undertone.
I understood—the person who'd stepped on my hand would meet a terrible end.
I hated my own weakness, yet I craved this sense of security, being held firmly in his arms.
My consciousness gradually blurred, and I fell into a deep sleep in his embrace.
It wasn't a peaceful sleep. My dreams were filled with that piercing gunshot and the crowd's screams.
When I woke again, it was completely dark outside.
Only a dim wall lamp was on in the room. Jared was still holding me in the same position, as if he hadn't moved at all.
I stirred, and he immediately noticed.
"Awake? Want some water?" He looked down at me, his dark eyes startlingly bright in the dimness.
I shook my head. Just as I was about to say something, his phone on the nightstand suddenly rang, its sharp ringtone cutting through the quiet of the room.
He frowned, seeming displeased by this call breaking the peace, but still freed one hand to pick it up.
The screen lit up, and the caller ID made his brow furrow even tighter.
Christian.
Keira and my cousin.
My heart instantly leapt to my throat, emotions that had just barely calmed down beginning to churn again.
Jared answered the call, his voice cold. "What is it?"
"Jared! You need to get to the hospital right now! It's Keira—something's wrong!" On the other end, Christian's voice was so urgent it was nearly breaking, the background filled with noise and crying.
Jared's expression changed instantly. "What happened to her?"
"She was getting treatments with a friend at a beauty salon and there was a shooting! The bone in her left shoulder was shattered, and both her hands... they're fractured too! The doctor says it's really bad!"
My brain went blank with a buzzing sound.
Keira... was also in a shooting?
Jared suddenly sat up straight from the bed. He glanced at me in his arms, my face deathly pale, then listened to Christian's anxious urging on the phone, his face showing a struggle and gravity I couldn't read.
"I'll be right there," he finally said in a deep voice.
After hanging up, he carefully placed me back on the pillow, tucked in the blanket, and stood up to leave.
My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, aching terribly.
I knew I shouldn't speak up, shouldn't show any reluctance or dependence in front of him.