Back in the hospital, Dorian woke again, completely unaware of the countless times his body had slipped toward death and been dragged back.
Machines beeped around him, monitors flashing steadily beside the bed while the sterile smell of antiseptic filled his lungs. His entire body felt as though it had been beaten apart.
He tried to move his hand, but he couldn't. Then he saw the handcuff.
His eyes widened. "What the hell is this?"
He yanked at his wrist, panic and fury surging through him. The movement sent a bolt of pain through his abdomen, but Dorian barely noticed it.
"Get this off me! How dare you treat me like a criminal! Unhand me, right now!"
The door opened almost immediately as nurses rushed in.
"Sir, please lie back—"
"Get away from me!"
Dorian lashed out, trying to strike the nearest nurse. She stumbled backward as another nurse hurried to restrain him, calling for assistance.
"Mr. Blackwood, you're in a hospital. Please calm down!"
