Page 10 of Stone Coast (Tyson Wild Thriller)
T he nurses came in to check on me several times during the night. It was impossible to get any real sleep. How anyone could rest and recover in a place like this was beyond me.
Tyson slept in the crappy reclining chair. I don’t think it bothered him. He looked like he could sleep anywhere. When anyone entered, Tyson was always alert and watchful. It’s like he sensed them before they came in. The guy was a trooper.
"Are you getting any sleep?" he asked.
"Here and there."
“What about you? You’re going to be exhausted by morning."
He smiled. "I'm used to this kind of thing."
"Do you look after people often?"
"Comes with the territory. "
"You really don't have to stay,” I said, even though I felt better knowing he was there. “Like you said. If somebody wanted me dead, I'd be gone already."
"I'll leave in the morning."
"I'm sure you've got a life to get back to,” I said, fishing for more information.
He chuckled. "Indeed. But I have an ulterior motive. I’m more than a little curious about what happened to you and why you just disappeared. I have my suspicions. But I want answers. I think you owe me that."
I cringed. “Sorry. I don’t have them.”
“Maybe in time.”
"Isn't anybody gonna wonder where you are?"
"The people that need to know where I am already know.”
After a moment’s hesitation, I asked, "Is there a Mrs. Wild?"
He laughed again. "Get some rest."
"How am I supposed to sleep when somebody is coming in every hour on the hour? And after what you told me, when I do sleep, I have crazy dreams."
"What did you dream about?"
"It's hard to explain. It's not really coherent. One scene blends into the next, and I'm lost in a place that I can't get out of." I looked at the clock on the wall. "Is it really 4:00 AM?"
Tyson nodded.
"I should let you get some sleep," I said .
“If you want to talk, we’ll talk. If you want to sleep, that’s okay, too.”
“You’re a kind man,” I said.
I left him alone and managed to doze off again.
In the blink of an eye, the morning sun beamed through the blinds, and the activity picked up around the hospital.
A nurse brought in a breakfast tray, and I tried my hand at applesauce, yogurt, and fruit juice.
Grayson arrived not long after. There was a look of surprise on his face and maybe a little jealousy when he saw Tyson. His eyes darted between the two of us. In a tentative tone, he said, "I just thought I'd stop by to check on you."
"Grayson, this is Tyson Wild. He's a…"
"Old friend," Tyson said, standing up and extending a hand.
The two shook.
"He's a sheriff's deputy with Coconut County," I said.
That seemed to set Grayson somewhat at ease.
"I went through my contacts list, like you suggested. I called Tyson. He came right away."
"And you spent the night?" Grayson asked, confused.
"It was no trouble," Tyson said.
"Well, I appreciate you looking after her," Grayson said, trying to mark his territory. His brow knitted, still not sure what to make of this new development. "How do you two know each other? "
I didn't have the words.
Tyson was quick to answer. “She was close friends with my sister, Madison. Seems like ages ago."
"Do you live here in town?"
"Coconut Key."
He nodded, processing everything.
Tyson's phone buzzed with a call. He pulled it from his pocket and swiped the screen. "What's up?"
A gruff voice barked through the phone.
Tyson listened intently for a moment, then frowned. "I'll be right there." He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Gotta run. Duty calls. You gonna be okay?"
I nodded.
"You call if you need anything. I’ll check back with you this evening." He shook Grayson's hand again. "It was nice to meet you."
"You as well."
With that, Tyson was out the door.
Grayson approached the bed. "So, did that spark any memories for you?"
I shook my head.
"Do you remember Madison?"
I shook my head again.
Grayson frowned, then tried to offer support. "I'm sure it's just a matter of time. You should have called and let me know you were going to have a visitor. I mean, how do you know you can trust that guy?"
"He's a cop. I can trust him. What do you think? I have serial killers in my contact list?”
He shrugged, then teased, “Maybe."
I rolled my eyes.
“Do I look like the kind of person who would associate with serial killers?”
"Maybe you are a serial killer, and you’ve been hiding it from me this entire time. You always were a little secretive."
Tyson never answered my question, but given my background, I wondered if I had killed someone—for legitimate reasons, of course. I sure knew how to handle a weapon.
A nurse stepped into the room and approached the bed with a smile. I hadn't seen her before. "You Savannah?”
I nodded.
"I'm Darcy. I'm with physical therapy. I'm here to do a basic evaluation. I understand you had an extended nap.”
I nodded.
“I’ll do a comprehensive initial assessment to determine the level of muscle atrophy, joint mobility, and your functional capabilities.
You've probably stiffened up quite a bit without movement, so we’ll be working on passive range of motion, then active range.
Eventually, we’ll incorporate strength training and functional activities.
You’ll learn how to walk again and regain your balance and coordination.
Eventually, we’ll get you back to your former self.
Can you tell me the level of physical activity you enjoyed before this happened? "
"She was very physically active," Grayson said. "Running, weight training, yoga.”
Darcy smiled. "Excellent. You’ve got a good foundation to start with. Hopefully, the short time that you were in dreamland hasn't compromised your muscle tone too much.”
“When can I get out of here?”
Darcy laughed.