Lucas stirred, blinking against the harsh light above him. A dull ache throbbed in his side. He shifted slightly, feeling the bandage pressed against his skin. Memories of the attack flooded back—gunfire, chaos, and blood. Pushing himself up, he tried to assess his surroundings.
“Damn it,” he muttered, glancing around the sterile hospital room. The faint scent of antiseptic filled the air.
“Lucas!” Desi's voice broke through his thoughts as she entered, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance. “You’re awake.”
“Where’s my phone?” Lucas asked, ignoring her presence as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Your phone? Why does that matter right now?” Desi stepped closer, concern etched on her face. “You need to rest.”
“Rest? I don’t have time for that.” He winced as he stood,
