by Gwyn McNamee
Wow. He must really be pissed if he wouldn’t even talk to me.
“Well, he’s alive. His vitals are steady. The surgery went well, but he developed an infection and some complications with his lungs. He’s been on antibiotics. So now, we just wait.”
Savage moves up next to the bed and examines Gabe’s prone figure. I can only imagine what’s running through his head right now. No doubt he’s remembering when their positions were reversed after the accident not so long ago.
It’s probably better to just get it over with quickly. Prolonging the confrontation with him will do none of us any good.
“I know you’re mad…”
He scoffs, and his eyes flit from me to Gabe before his hard stare returns to me. “Mad doesn’t even begin to cover it, Skye. What were you two thinking?”
“Well—”
I’m silenced with a shake of his head and a held up hand. “No, don’t bother. I know. Gabe thinks with his dick, and you haven’t thought straight at all since the accident.”
My temper flares, and I clench my fists to keep from clambering across the bed to smack him.
“Wow. Is that what you really think?”
Asshole.
Savage has always been protective of me, and all the Hawke siblings, but this goes beyond being protective and straight to judgmental dickcheese.
His eyes narrow on me. “What else am I supposed to think?”
“How about you give us some fucking credit, Savage? Do you really think Gabe or I would jump into bed with each other without knowing what a fucked up situation we would be creating? What we would be risking? And you think we did it just because we wanted to get laid?”
I shoot from the chair, unable to remain seated while I’m so fuming mad. Plus, as awful as this sounds, being physically taller than Savage always makes me feel like I have some power, the illusion of the upper hand. I never had it with him growing up, but in this instance, I deserve to use it.
“Skye, you are my goddamn baby sister, and he’s my best friend…I mean, fuck, he’s practically family. It’s just…wrong.”
“Why is it wrong? You, of all people, should understand that when you find something good, you have to hang onto it.”
He barks out a sardonic laugh. “Don’t compare my relationship with Dani to you and Gabe fucking.”
Whoa. Knife to my heart, much?
“That’s what you think this is? That we’re just fucking?”
Savage glances to Gabe before answering. “You tell me differently, Skye. I know Gabe, probably as well as I know myself. He’s not a relationship guy, and you have been vulnerable since Star’s death, don’t try to deny that.”
“Holy shit!”
Now, I get it.
“You think he took advantage of me?” I charge around the end of the bed until I’m directly in front of Savage. “How the hell can you possibly think that of your best friend…of me?”
My blood isn’t boiling, it’s ready to burst out of my veins. How the hell can Savage think Gabe would take advantage of me or that I would ever let anyone, let alone Gabe, do that in the first place? Doesn’t he know us at all?
Savage doesn’t respond. He just stares at me with the eyes so similar to mine—filled with fear and pain. I know he feels betrayed. I get it, I really, really do, but what happens between me and Gabe is none of his business.
I run my hands back through my snarly, dirty, matted hair and sigh. “I don’t even know what to say to you, Savage. If you really believe that, then you never knew Gabe or me at all.”
“He’s my best friend, Skye.”
“Then fucking act like it, Savage.”
I’ve never heard Skye so angry before, and that’s really saying something. That woman is like a cobra—coiled and ready to strike at any time.
I feel sorry for whoever the sucker is she’s tearing into.
The visual I bring up in my mind of her angry—blue eyes flashing, skin flush, body tense—is so fucking hot, I smile.
Fuck, that hurts.
Her last words ring in my ears along with the constant noise of the machines near my head and the synapses finally fire and connect.
Shit…Savage.
“Why don’t you back off a little, Skye?” The voice that comes out isn’t mine—it’s harsh, and scratchy, and sounds like it comes from someone who smokes four packs a day. I never smoked more than two at my worst.
“Oh, my God…Gabe!”
Pain shoots through my abdomen and arm as something warm, firm, and curvy falls against me.
A gasp slips from my lips, and I clench my eyes and grit my teeth against the fire burning through my body.
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”
Skye. Fuck, I love this woman. How did I not tell her before?
I force my eyes open against the harsh lights of the hospital room and see her standing back from the bed, concern and guilt etched on her beautiful face. “Don’t be sorry, just get back here, and be gentle this time.”
She smiles and moves toward me, taking my hand in hers and leaning in to press her trembling lips to mine gently. “You’re going to be okay.” Her whispered words soothe me, and I relax back into the bed.
“You wanna tell me what happened?”
The joy in her eyes and her smile vanish, quickly replaced by tears and a quivering lip. “I’m so sorry, Gabe. It’s all my fault. I never thought Lucas would go this far.”
Neither did I.
“How did you get away? Where was he keeping you?” Every word I speak is like dragging razorblades down my throat.
Confusion flits across her face, and she backs away slightly. “You don’t remember what I told you in the car?”
Broken memories of the ride from the cabin to the hospital flit through my head. Most involve pain and screaming. But nothing about how Skye escaped.
I shake my head but immediately regret it when pain stabs at my temples. “Shit.” My eyes close again, and I try to breathe through the pain, but the tightness and sharp stabs against my rib cage prevent me from taking more than a shallow gasp of air.
“Crap, I need to let them know you’re awake.” A voice crackles from somewhere off to my right and Skye tells whoever it is that I’m finally awake. I don’t bother listening for the reply. I’m more interested in what Skye has to tell me.
When she’s done and retakes her place next to me, I open my eyes again and look up at her. “So?”
She chews on her bottom lip.
Fuck, that’s hot.
“Um, shit…” Fear flashes in her eyes.
Why is she afraid to talk to me about this?
“Gabe…Lucas never had me.”
“What?” I jerk up in the bed but immediately fall back and clutch at my abdomen. “Fuck…” It feels like I’ve been ripped open from my ribs to my belly button. What the hell did they do to me?
“Shh.” A soothing hand finds my forehead. “Just lay back. Don’t try to move. The nurse will bring more pain meds for you.”
I grit my teeth and turn my face to hers. “I must have heard you wrong. Tell me.”
She hesitates and curses under her breath, examining the ceiling briefly before returning her gaze to me. “Lucas dropped me off at my mom’s, after I sent you that text. I didn’t even know the message went through to you, or that you had been looking for me. I did try to call you, several times, but the calls wouldn’t go through. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
She was never there.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
I know better than to go off half-cocked. Yet, I did. In a big fucking way. And now, Lucas is dead. He was a fucking psycho and deserved it, but still.
“But, how did you find me at the cabin, then?”
The corner of her mouth twitches up and her eyes twinkle with affection. “Because I didn’t want to leave things the way we did. I was at Mom’s and her electricity went out. We couldn’t get the generator going. It was cold and miserable, and I wanted to be anywher
e but there. I was thinking about that time you came to get me and Star from that party sophomore year. And I just couldn’t imagine not being with you just because of Savage. So, I went to tell him and brought Mom with me. I thought you would be at your place. Dani told me you went looking for me and that you thought I was with Lucas before I even had a chance to talk to Savage. I went to Lucas’ apartment and found it…let’s just say…in some disarray and realized what you must have thought after you got my text. I’ve been to the cabin with Lucas before, and he told me he had to go out there to do some prep for the storm. I knew you must have gone there when I saw the ripped open mail and letter.”
She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes briefly. “Thank God I had my gun in my purse…I’m just so sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”
Sorry?
There is absolutely nothing for her to be sorry for.
“But you still shot Lucas and managed to get me here in the middle of a fucking hurricane.”
She smiles and nods as tears roll down her cheeks.
It shouldn’t surprise me she turned out to be a total badass.
It’s kind of a Hawke quality.
Someone clears their throat, and I manage to move my head so I can see who is to the left of my bed.
Fuck. Savage.
I forgot he was here. He heard all of that, and saw Skye throw herself at me.
His cold, hard eyes meet mine, and he gives me an awkward nod. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Without another word, Savage turns and disappears out the open door.
Well, fuck.
I can’t remember a single time since I met Savage at age six that he treated me with such cold disdain. He can be a real asshole, but underneath it all is always the warmth of my best friend. There was none of that just now. That man was not the man I know. And that fucking terrifies me.
Skye’s eyes follow him out just as a nurse bustles in with a bright smile, bee-lining for the IV stand and machines next to Skye.
Maybe I will be okay, but things are definitely not okay with Savage.
We’ve never had any kind of test of our friendship before, unless you count the accident. But for me, there wasn’t even a question I needed to step up and help him with whatever he needed. I would have done, and did give, anything and everything to help him and bring him back home. Things would never be the same, we both knew that, but I wasn’t about to let what happened to him change our friendship.
Nothing has ever come between us before, and the fact it’s his sister makes this different. This may be something we can’t overcome. And that breaks my fucking heart because, after the accident, at least I still had him. Now, I have nothing.
When Skye returns her attention to me, the tears are still falling and the guilt overwhelms me.
It’s all my fault.
I drove a wedge between her and Savage all because I wasn’t strong enough to push her away permanently.
“Mr. Anderson, how are we feeling?” The nurse smiles at me as she fiddles with something on the IV stand.
Might as well go with honesty here. Maybe it’ll get a laugh.
“Like I got shot.”
Skye winces, and I instantly regret my attempt at honesty as humor.
The nurse tosses me a dirty look. I guess she didn’t like my joke either. “Well, that’s to be expected. What’s your pain level like?”
I instinctively check Skye before answering.
It fucking hurts. A lot. Like, more than I ever thought possible. But, if I tell the nurse that, it will only make Skye feel worse.
“Uh, not too bad.”
Skye’s eyes narrow on me.
She’s not buying it.
I look to the nurse, who’s now hanging a new bag on the IV stand. She mimics Skye’s reaction.
Guess I’m not fooling anyone.
Without returning my eyes to Skye, I close them and drop my head back against the pillow, letting out a sigh of resignation. “Okay, it’s bad.”
“I would imagine so, Mr. Anderson. The doctor is on his way, and once you’re done talking to him, we’ll get you something to make you feel better.”
I hate pain meds. Really, really hate them.
The mindless fog they put you in and the very real potential for abuse has always made me leery of taking anything if it isn’t absolutely necessary. But the last few minutes awake have convinced me this is one of those times.
Who would have thought, I make it through six tours without getting shot and then come here to get blasted by Skye’s psycho fuck buddy. I should have known pussy would be the harbinger of my demise.
Skye squeezes my hand, and I explore her stormy blue eyes. She wants to say something, probably apologize again, but I won’t let her. It wasn’t her fault. None of it.
If I hadn’t been such a fucking asshole, we would have been talking, and I would have given her a ride to her mom’s house and ridden out the storm with them. I never would have had to search for her, there never would have been the misunderstanding, and I wouldn’t have ended up here. None of it was her fault, not a single fucking thing.
All she’s ever done is want me and love me, and all she requested in return was for me to do the same. And I couldn’t.
I can’t.
There’s no way I’m going to be the reason she destroys her relationship with Savage. It may be too late for me to salvage my friendship with him, but she doesn’t have to lose her brother because of my stupidity.
I have to let her go.
The pain of making that decision tears through me stronger and harder than the bullet did. I love her more than I ever thought possible. But I was never meant to have her. It’s the only possible way to start to repair what’s been broken.
The look in Gabe’s eyes turns the blood in my veins to ice. Something’s going on inside his head and it isn’t good.
Savage didn’t help things. I don’t know how much Gabe heard, but the fact Savage could actually think so little of him was heartbreaking for me, so I can only imagine what it would do to Gabe if he knew how Savage felt.
But this isn’t the time to broach the subject with him.
The doctor strolls in and grabs the chart from the nurse. “It’s nice to see you awake, Mr. Anderson. I’m Dr. Schaefer. How are you feeling?”
“Shitty.”
I flick my eyes from Gabe to the doctor and he smiles. “Mr. Anderson, you were struck by lightning and shot, so feeling shitty doesn’t surprise me.”
Gabe manages a weak smile, and Dr. Schaefer leans against the end of the bed. “The bullet tore through your spleen. We had to perform an exploratory laparotomy with splenectomy, which basically means we opened you up, looked around to make sure there wasn’t damage to any other organs or major vessels, removed the spleen, and sealed you back up.”
“Don’t I need a spleen?”
The doctor chuckles and smiles at Gabe. “Fortunately, the spleen is one of those organs you can actually live without and pretty much maintain your regular lifestyle. It’s kind of a supporting player, so to speak, and helps the immune system filter blood. The biggest concern with removing the spleen is that it helps fight off certain types of bacteria, so without it, you are more susceptible to certain infections, like pneumonia and meningitis. Your body was having a tough time fighting off an infection you developed post-surgery and you had some issues with your lungs. We had to do several rounds of IV antibiotics before you finally started showing some improvement.”
Gabe’s worried. I don’t blame him. Without the medical knowledge I have, I would probably be freaking out if I were in his place.
“But I’m okay now?”
I squeeze his hand. The doctor gives him a reassuring smile. “You will be very soon. We’re going to keep you here for another week or so to give you some more antibiotics and to make sure all your systems are operating properly after the lightning strike and major surgery.
“When the lightning struck you, it caused the muscles in you
r body, especially your neck and shoulders, to convulse so forcefully, it actually caused your shoulder to dislocate. You’re very lucky. Your clothes being wet may have actually saved your life. Most of the charge from the lightning likely conducted through your wet clothes rather than your body. I know you were able to pop your shoulder back into place, which definitely is something we would have preferred to be left to a professional.” His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a knowing smile. “But luckily, the ligaments and muscles were just stretched, there was no tearing or major damage. That means you won’t have to spend a great deal of time with it immobile. Keep it in the sling at least eight hours a day and no lifting with that arm or anything else that will put any strain on it. Can you manage that?”
He looks from me to Gabe, and Gabe nods. I’ll no doubt be monitoring to make sure he’s not overdoing it. God knows it’s going to be a pain in the ass to get him to slow down and admit there are things he can’t and shouldn’t do.
“Good, as long as there are no other complications, you should have full normal function within twelve to sixteen weeks. But for now, I’m guessing you need some more pain meds.”
Gabe shifts uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t turn them down.”
Seeing him miserable and knowing it’s all my fault makes the tears well in my eyes again. I swear, I’ve cried more in the last couple days than I did after Star died. The nurse grabs a vial of morphine and hooks it to the IV, setting the drip.
The doctor hands the chart back to the nurse and inclines his head at us. “I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, Mr. Anderson.”
Gabe grumbles a response and winces before his eyes fall on me momentarily. The same dark uncertainty lingers there before he closes them. The tension in his jaw and neck relax slowly as the morphine they gave him finally takes effect.
Thank God for narcotics.
I can’t stand to see him suffer. Not just because I love him so much, but because this is far too reminiscent of what I went through with Savage after the accident. I couldn’t even fully grieve for Star because I was so worried we were going to lose Savage too. Gabe’s strength held me and the rest of the family together.