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Greg.

Gun.

Doc.

That was his name, I recalled vaguely. Not his real name, but his title. He had been in the store…

When Greg had shot me.

“How are you feeling, Addie?” His voice was calm. Soothing, almost.

“Where’s Tamson?” I stuttered, attempting to sit up. “And the others?”

“They’re fine. It was you that we were worried about.” His eyes darkened slightly. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Do I remember that you shot me? Yes, I have a rather vivid memory of that, thank you very much.”

Face twisting, he folded his arms over his chest and scowled at me.

“I didn’t shoot you. I saved your life.”

“After you shot me,” I pointed out helpfully. Really, the man should be grateful that I wasn’t castrating him. Getting shot? Ten out of ten would not recommend.

As if summoned by the thought, pain reverberated throughout my body.

Groaning, I catalogued my injuries.

My stomach burned with a sharp pain that radiated down my spine. My body as a whole was heavy, leaden, and tired. The combination was uncomfortable but not horrible. I could survive it.

Correction: Ihadsurvived it.

Blinking at the hideous stitches on my stomach, I diverted my attention back towards Doc. He regarded me with a clinical detachment common in most doctors.

“How am I alive?”

Because I should’ve been dead. I had felt the life draining from my body as if I was a faucet turned on. Though I was scared of what was to come, I had accepted death.

I would welcome death gratefully if it kept my men alive.

Doc pursed his lips, eyes once more landing on my stomach. It would scar, of course, but it only served to remind me of all I had conquered. Death. Pretty badass, if you asked me. And what was one more scar to the inventory?

“The bullet was a clean in-and-out,” he said after a moment of silence. “Once I was able to stop the bleeding, it was up to you whether or not you were going to pull through.”

“Me?”

Before he could respond, the door was pushed open. Tamson stood in the doorway, the flames from the candles highlighting his sunken skin and disheveled hair. He paused when he took stock of me, his mouth opening and closing. In his gaze, I could see a multitude of emotions.

Shock.

Relief.

Pain.

Happiness.

Love.

It was the last one that caused my throat to close and tighten with an undefinable emotion. My heart fluttered, and my stomach churned. How had I not realized it before?