The night before Cillian had brought food, noodles from a shop down the street, and the nurse hadfinallycontacted the doctor and come to insert the insulin in Fallon’s IV, much to Fallon’s relief—he’d thought it was going to be a needle to his gut. They’d tried to toss me out, citing visiting hours, but Dr. Bautista had intervened on my behalf. Even though everything had gone as I’d wanted it to, I didn’t sleep all night. It was hard to close my eyes as I stared at Fallon and the obvious pain he was in, the grunting and moaning only rising in pitch as every hour passed. The few times the nurses checked on him wasn’t enough as far as I was concerned, but they promised the doctor would be in first thing in the morning.
Even though he’d grunted in pain all night, Fallon had slept, and that was a relief at least.
I was by the window, staring out at the hospital’s narrow front lawn with its tall oak trees, when Fallon whispered my name. I turned to him and stalked over to the bed. It was impossible to keep my hands off him, and I caressed his cheek. He sighed, leaning into my touch.
“It hurts,” he whispered.
“I know. Enough of this.” I reached for the control they’d connected to his bed frame and hit the Call button. “The doctor is going to see younowor I will find him my-fucking-self and make him.”
Fallon tried to smile, but he whimpered instead and grabbed his right side, holding it as though the pressure would help with the agony. Anger stirred inside me as I stared at him helplessly. Nothing I could say or do would make it any better, except convincing the doctor to see reason.
By the time a new nurse came in I was pacing and furious, and I stopped when I saw her and glared. “Doctor.Now. He’s in a lot of pain.”
She huffed but didn’t argue, stomping away. Within ten minutes Dr. Bautista was in the room, apology twisting his face as he rushed inside.
“I’m so sorry, Fallon, it’s been quite a night. I’m into the tenth hour of my shift—”
“We don’t care. He’s in fucking pain. Do your fucking job,” I snapped. I’d probably hear from Nick about abusing his friend later, but oh well.
Dr. Bautista sighed and walked over to Fallon. They went through the same checkup as last night, with the doctor touching Fallon’s chest to feel where it hurt. This time Fallon cried out more than before, and Dr. Bautista’s expression turned worried. He listened to Fallon’s chest with a stethoscope and didn’t look any happier.
“He’ll need a CT immediately. I’ll call the nurse to get him ready.”
It happened like a whirlwind. Now that the doctor had made his decision, the nurses moved at a lightning pace. They yanked up the rails, then rolled him out of the room. When I tried to follow, one with a short red bob held her palm up to me.
“Stay here.”
I stared helplessly as they took Fallon away, and all I could do was message Vail to update him. He would be at work, teaching rich kids history so they could pass exams and get into a good college, but he’d want to know. I sent Cillian and Rowen the same message, and Cillian was the only one to respond.
Cillian: I’ll let the boss know.
I chewed on my nail, staring out the window again, then moved on to pacing once more. I played with my phone, turned on the TV, and tried to sleep some, but nothing helped pass the time. I fucking hated waiting, even if I’d taught myself to be patient. Hospitals reminded me of Dad, and now that I was alone with nothing to do, all I could think about was his time in a room like this one, when his body finally started giving up and his muscles wasted away until he was nothing but skin and bones. His tongue had been shriveled as well, but even though the man in the bed hadn’t been my dad as I remembered him, Mom still visited him every day and read from his favorite book. She did a lot of things for him.
Me? I’d gone with her but stayed quiet. I watched, and in doing that I learned a lot. Sometimes there was no reason for words.
Forty-five minutes passed before Fallon was finally wheeled back into the room. He seemed to be in more pain than when he left, and I stood and reached for him when they finally locked the bed in place.
“The doctor will be in soon,” the nurse with the red hair said, but I didn’t acknowledge her.
I brushed my thumb over his flushed, sweaty cheek, and he tried to give me a smile, but it was pained.
“I’d flirt with you if I could,” he whispered. “But this kind of hurts.”
“Kind of?” I snorted.
Footsteps interrupted us and Dr. Bautista was back already, his mouth pursed, and an iPad clutched tightly in his hand. I braced myself.
“I only have bad news,” Dr. Bautista said, smiling sadly.
“Give it to me,” Fallon grunted out, grabbing my hand and holding it tightly.
“Both your lungs are bruised.” He cleared his throat and moved in closer. “We don’t do this anymore unless things are really bad, so I want you to know it wasn’t a light decision I made—I consulted with several other doctors. Fallon, we need to put you in an induced coma until they begin to heal. It’ll take the pressure off your body while it’s trying to breathe, and it’ll give your lungs the time they need. While you’re under, we’ll also operate to stabilize your ribs. It’s an easy surgery. There will be little scarring.” He gave me a hopeful thumbs-up.
“No,” Fallon snapped quickly. “Fuck no.”
I sucked in a breath.Fuck.
6
