Finn drove them quickly but carefully to the closest hospital, dropping them off in front of the emergency room, and forty minutes later, Jax was in the back, waiting for a doctor. One of the nurses came to take his vitals, and concern lined her forehead as Tristan and Finn told her what happened.
Thankfully, Jax had people to advocate for him because he couldn’t form full sentences. His pain had taken away his ability to speak coherently, and Tristan couldn’t imagine what this was like for someone without family, friends, or loved ones to protect them.
“Maybe I should get in touch with his mom.” Finn stood next to Tristan, and the two of them stared down at Jax, who moaned and shifted.
Tristan was about to reply, but the doctor came in.
“I’ll go out into the hall and make some calls.” Patting Tristan’s shoulder again, Finn headed out, approval in his gaze. Somehow, that made Tristan feel even guiltier.
Once the doctor showed up, Tristan tried to answer her quickfire questions as she examined Jax, and then Jax was whisked away for an X-ray. After viewing the results, the doctor gave Jax two shots, one to ease any inflammation and another to ease his pain, and within seconds, Jax settled down.
“He needs an MRI and a treatment plan,” she said. “I’ll write up a prescription for the imaging.”
“Thanks.” Tristan stared down at Jax’s face. Despite the shots, hisforehead and eyes were still lined with pain, and Tristan took his hand, wishing he could carry both the physical and mental agony.
Because Jax deserved a break. He deserved the world, and Tristan needed to become someone who could give that to him.
15
JAX
Theredhazeofpain slowly pulled back, and while it didn’t completely recede, it gave Jax enough room to sit in the driver’s seat. As reality coalesced around him, he cracked open his eyes, squinting at a bright, fuzzy world accented by loud beeps.
“Jax?” Tristan’s voice had Jax blinking, trying to focus. He could feel Tristan’s warm hand encompassing his, and while he hadn’t been fully conscious for the last few hours, he hadn’t been unconscious either. His mind had gone into safe mode, retreating to where it could handle the hot, seizing agony in his lower back.
Finally, his eyesight worked with him, and he looked up into Tristan’s worried eyes, noticing that Finn stood beside him with a matching expression. Sure, he’d registered that they were there, but everything after getting out of bed was a blur.
“Tris-tan.” A mix of pain and whatever drugs he’d been given made it difficult to speak, and he glanced around, confirming that he was in the hospital.
“Hey there,” Tristan said softly. But even he couldn’t soothe the gnawing anxiety that told Jax his brain hadn’t caught up to it all yet. He was missing something important.
Like running a kitchen.
“The Pointe…” Tears blurred Jax’s vision again. Raising his free hand, he punched the mattress with about as much force as a baby.
“Jax.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tristan reached over and gently held that hand too, transferring some calm into it. “Don’t worry, Finn’sbeen in touch with Marci, and everything is handled. Owen even took over for me.”
“They…shouldn’t…have to…” Jax forced out. This had been his moment, his big opportunity, and the entire weekend had turned into a shitshow. He’d worked so hard to keep his anger at bay, to solve everything that was thrown at him, but in the end, his body couldn’t handle the stress.
Sure, this was all Derrick’s doing, but it didn’t matter because Jax’s back had been slowly breaking down over time. As a sous-chef, he moved around the kitchen a lot, and he’d ignored the warning shot that had left him on Owen’s office floor, pushing himself, wanting more.
But he’d flown too close to the sun and had gotten burned, struck down just like he’d been four years ago, unable to help himself or get to a phoneagain. And this wouldn’t be the last time his back ripped him into reality.
He’d had such hope, but he wouldn’t be able to keep this once-in-a-lifetime job, and futility overwhelmed him.
“I’m twenty-six, and my life is over,” he mumbled, not sure if he was speaking aloud, and he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the hospital buzzing around him.
“It may seem that way now, but I promise it’s not.” Tristan gave his hands a gentle squeeze, and Jax hung onto him like a raft in a rainstorm, grateful that he had Tristan in his life. In fact, he had lots of good things to be grateful for, including an incredible mother, long-lost siblings, a niece, and amazing friends.
But how could he appreciate any of it when his existence was soaked in pain? He wanted his old life back, to be able to sit wherever he wanted, move his body without thinking about it, and free himself on the dance floor, but he’d never have that again. It had been taken from him, changing him for good.
Jax’s eyes snapped open as an old, familiar anger began to fill his veins, and the drugs in his system weakened the walls that usually held back his rage.
“You’re full of shit.” The words sounded like gravel, and while Tristan didn’t react, Finn did, because he’d never seen that side of Jax before. “You don’t have to live w-with this. You d-don’t have to lie on the floor for…”
Jax paused. How longhadhe been on the floor? It had felt like hours.At first, he’d shouted for help, but either the walls were too thick or the neighbors had been out, because no one had heard him. He’d spent most of the time wishing that the pain would stop and that Tristan had stayed.
He’d been half asleep when Tristan had said something about an errand, but what would’ve had him sprinting out first thing in the morning?
