“I get their kills, you get their corpses,” I remind him. “Call Scrubs and get him here to clean up. You can stay and help.”
“On it,” he returns, pulling his cell out of his cut.
I turn on my heel and almost bust my ass. Zombie helps me outside, and when I reach the steps, I pull away and hop down them one at a time.
“That’s one way to do it,” he jokes.
I glance around the area, noting the club vehicle is gone. Pulling my cell out, I go to call Sawbone but see a text notification.
Sawbone: Couldn’t wait around… Took Mellie to nearest hospital… wasn’t looking good pres
Me: On my way
Me: Tell her I love her
29
LYRIC
ONE MONTH LATER…
“How’s she doin’?”
I scrub my hands over my face, exhausted beyond belief, before lifting my head to look at Zombie. Mellie has been in a medically induced coma for thirty days in an effort to reduce the swelling from the beating she endured, and I haven’t left her side. My VP has been running things with the Kings, knowing there’s nothing that will get me to walk away from her.
“Doctor was in a while ago,” I tell him. “Said he wants to try to wake her up today.”
Zombie grunts. This won’t be the first time I’ve heard this from a physician. I’ve about given up on medical professionals as a whole, but I’ll never give up on Mellie. As long as her heart beats, I’ll be here.
“Here, Savvy sent some food for you.” He sets a bag on the table in front of me. “Also wanted me to remind you that her offer to come sit with Mellie still stands if you need a break.”
“I’m fine.” I snatch the bag and peer inside. “Shit, that smells good.”
“It’s her homemade beef stew and some fresh bread,” he says.
My mouth waters as I pull out the warm container of food. “Where’s the spoon?” I ask after emptying the bag.
“Oh, right.” Zombie pulls a sandwich baggie from his pocket. “Forgot she shoved this in there as I was leaving.”
I take the utensils from him and dig into the meal. In a matter of minutes, I’ve scarfed it all down, and I rise to throw away the trash. Rather than returning to the table, I sit on the edge of Mellie’s bed.
She’s wearing her own pajamas, and the quilt is the one she loves from the spare room back home. There are pictures scattered around the private room in the ICU wing of the hospital, as well as anything else we could think of to make her surroundings comfortable.
Not that she even knows.
“Hey, baby,” I whisper, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Z came to see you.”
“Hi, sweet cheeks,” he greets, laughing when I glare at him. “What?”
“I told you to stop calling her that,” I growl, but there’s no heat in my tone.
“And I told you I’d stop when she wakes up.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I tell him. “So, how are things at home?”
“They’re fine.” Zombie shrugs. “I promise I’ll tell you if there’s trouble.”
“Shadow Sixes still quiet?”
