Chapter Forty-Four
DREW
Since waking, the men had been drip fed into my room over a period of days. I was broken and receiving sympathy that didn’t sit well with me. Sympathy should be saved for those who hadn’t walked into the lion’s den the way I had so willingly. My protests went ignored. They were giving their sympathies to me whether I approved of them or not.
Ayda barely left my side—her smile forever fixed in place every time she looked over and saw my eyes open. Every now and again, she would stand by my bed and press her fingertips to my heart, and her eyes would mist over with gratitude.
My body had been in pain for days, but Ayda’s heart had suffered just as much.
After some emotional reunions with Slater, Jedd, Deeks, Kenny, Tate, and the others, it was finally time for me to see my father and the kid brother I never knew I had.
Brother.
The thought of what we could have been to one another, had we known, haunted me every time I thought about it, but I shut those thoughts down most of the time with a reminder to myself that, while Rubin hadn’t had it easy with Mayor Walsh, he’d also never had to put himself too close to the blade tosurvive the way I had.
There was a small grain of gratitude toward my father and Carolyn Walsh for that.
Ayda had been making small talk to keep my foggy mind busy while we waited for them both to arrive, and I was grateful for her efforts, though they still didn’t stop my heart beating faster when Eric gently tapped his knuckles on my hospital room door before he opened it up slowly, his eyes instantly connecting with mine.
There isn’t a son in the world who doesn’t long to see pride shining from their father’s eyes, but even I had to admit that the sight of it took me by surprise when he walked in with a tired-looking Rubin following behind.
Ayda’s hand slipped into mine and squeezed gently. “Hey, guys.”
Dad tipped his head at Ayda, with Rubin offering a feeble wave and a soft, “Hi,” before he took me in for the first time, and his face fell.
“Shit,” he whispered.
“I know I look bad, kid, but is it reallythatbad?”
Rubin stood there, his expression blank.
“We need to work on his game face,” Eric said roughly.
“No kidding.” I smirked, leaning back on my pillow and releasing a tired sigh. “It’s nice to see you, too, Rubin.”
“Sorry, Drew. I just couldn’t imagine it being true, that’s all.”
“What?” I arched a brow, eyeing him as he shuffled and tugged the sleeves of his hoodie down over his bunched up hands.
“That you could ever get beaten that way.”
I felt Ayda’s hand tense in mine for only a second before it relaxed again.
“This is what happens when a sadistic fuck is given too much power,” she said quietly.
“She doesn’t mean me,” I whispered back at Rubin, tippingmy head her way while offering him a paralyzed wink.
A quiet snort fell from Ayda. “They know that. I have better names for you.”
“I can imagine,” I mumbled to myself, looking up at Dad who was standing at the end of my bed, his good hand now tucked deep inside the pocket of his jeans. He was wearing his signature flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, open at the chest with a dark gray T-shirt underneath. The man wore his clothing like a uniform—a signature look he somehow managed to carry off like he invented it.
“Missed me, Eric?” I asked playfully, my throat scratchy and sore still.
“Yeah, actually.”
“No sarcastic comeback. Wow.” I glanced at Rubin. “Don’t tell me y’all have gotten boring since I got knocked out.”
Rubin looked up at Eric, his eyes wide before he let them drop back to me, and I wondered if he saw it the way I could see it so clearly now—the way I should have seen it all those days and weeks before. He didn’t look the same as Eric and me, but Rubin held the same respect for those he saw as above him, and he carried himself in a similar manner. Honesty shone from his face, whether he meant to hide it or not, and he always found a way to read the room he was standing in.
