“Mom.”
“What? It’s true.”
And for the first time in eighteen hours, I almost smile. Almost.
“Thank you,” I say. “For not making this harder than it already is.”
“Tate,” Dad says, “you’re our son. We love you no matter what. That includes loving whoever makes you happy.”
“Even if he’s a former criminal who got shot by the Russian mafia?”
“Especially if he’s a former criminal who got shot by the Russian mafia,” Mark says, winking at me. “That’s pretty badass.”
“He’s not really a criminal. He was forced into it, and he’s been trying to make up for it ever since.”
“I know. I was kidding.” Mark smiles. “But the important thing is that he makes you happy. Everything else is just details.”
A doctor appears in the chapel doorway. It’s Dr. Gandolfo, the surgeon who’s been updating me on Zane’s condition. Her eyes are tired, and my heart drops at the grim expression on her face.
“Mr. Barnes? I need to speak with you.”
I stand up too fast, a wave of dizziness crashing over me. I grip the top of the pew. “What’s wrong?”
“As his emergency contact, I have an update for you. Mr. Christensen is experiencing some complications. Internalbleeding that we didn’t catch during the initial surgery. We need to take him back to the OR immediately.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I won’t lie, this is serious. The next few hours are going to be critical.” She glances at my family, then back at me. “You might want to see him before we take him up.”
My legs feel weak. Mark catches my arm, steadying me.
“Go,” he says. “We’ll be right here.”
I follow the doctor out of the chapel, down the hallway, and up the elevator toward the ICU. Knowing my family is here gives me strength.
But as we get to Zane’s room, where nurses are prepping him for emergency surgery, I know that all the family support in the world won’t matter if I lose him.
“Zane,” I whisper as they wheel him on a gurney past me toward the elevator. “Don’t you dare leave me now. Not when I finally told them about us. Not when I finally have people who want to meet you.”
The orderlies push him into the elevator and the doors close, taking him away from me again.
And I’m left standing in the hallway, praying that they bring him back so I can tell him how I really feel about him.
THIRTY-SIX
tate
The waitingroom coffee is so bitter, it makes my lips twist.
I’ve been sitting in the same plastic chair since they wheeled Zane into surgery, absently watching CNN news stories loop on the television. My family is spread out around me - Mom staring at a magazine, Dad on his phone, Mark and Tessa, who just came by, talking quietly in the corner.
Dr. Gandolfo said the surgery could take anywhere from two to six hours. I glare at the clock on the wall, willing the seconds to tick by faster because I’m losing my damn mind.
Then the elevator dings, the doors open, and a group of my teammates, current and former, spill into the room.
Cam leads the pack, followed by Logan, Jaren, Colby, Carter, Jack, Parker, Masterson, and Keating. They’re the guys I’m closest to.
“Tate,” Cam says, walking over. “How is he?”
