Page 54 of Deacon

I dragged in a careful breath. “I’ll survive. Might even be worth it.”

Nomad snorted. “Yeah, well, almost dyin’ bought you exactly one minute of sympathy. After that, you’re back to bein’ irritating.”

Ledger shook his head, his grin still hanging on him. “Man wakes up one day and already starts flirtin’ with nurses.”

I glanced at him. “Nurse.”

Nomad’s brows lifted. “That right?”

I settled carefully against the pillow again, fighting both the pull in my ribs and the grin trying to win anyway. “Always was.”

That earned a softer laugh from Ledger. The room stayed easy after that, filled with the loose, half-disbelieving relief that only showed up when men had spent too long waiting for the worst and somehow hadn’t gotten it. Nomad looked far too pleased with himself from the chair by the window, Ledger clearly had no intention of letting me forget a second of Lila’s visit, and I let myself sit inside it for a minute. The laughter hurt, but it was a good hurt. Real. Better than the dark had been.

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and the door opened.

Priest stepped inside.

For a second, I watched him from the bed while the last of the laughter hung in the room. He paused as though the sound had caught him off guard, his gaze moving from Nomad slouched near the window to Ledger at the rail before finally landing on me. Whatever he had expected when he walked in, it hadn’t been this.

Good. I liked giving him that.

“Careful,” Nomad said, glancing up when he caught sight of him. “You laugh too hard, doc’s gonna come yell at you.”

I snorted and immediately winced, my hand shifting toward my ribs. “Worth it,” I muttered. “Been quiet too long.”

Ledger straightened when he saw Priest, his grin easing into something steadier. “Look who finally showed.”

“Had somewhere I needed to be,” Priest said, his voice rougher than usual.

I clocked the fatigue first, then the stitches. Priest looked steadier than he probably had any right to, but I didn’t ask about it yet. Me and Priest had bled beside each other long enough to know when to leave something alone until the man carrying it was ready to put it down.

Nomad pushed up from the chair. “We’ll give you two some time.”

Ledger nodded and gave my shoulder a careful squeeze. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

My mouth twitched. “In a hospital bed? No promises.”

That earned one more laugh before the two of them headed out. The door shut behind them, taking the rough-edged ease of the room with it, and the silence that followed felt different. Less heavy than before, but more honest. Priest dragged a chair closer and sat with his elbows braced on his knees while I studied the man across from me.

I saw too much because I knew him too well. The tension tucked behind his shoulders, the exhaustion, the relief he was trying not to show too plainly. Guilt lived beneath all of it, old and fresh at the same time, because Priest had always carried other people’s blood like some portion of it belonged to him even when it didn’t.

“So,” I said finally, because I had never been patient and nearly dying hadn’t improved me, “you gonna tell me what the fuck happened, or am I piecin’ this together from gossip and painkillers?”

Priest exhaled through his nose once. “We were ambushed. Bullets were flyin’. You and me both went down hard. They rushed us here. Flashing lights, trauma team in the ER, the whole thing. You were out cold before we rolled in.”

His voice dipped lower before he added, “I thought we were gonna lose you.”

That landed harder than I liked. I turned toward the dark window, catching fragments instead of a complete memory. The shots. Metal. That split second when everything went wrong too fast to stop. Then nothing except darkness, Lila’s voice, pain, the lake, and enough regret to make waking feel like punishment.

“And you?” I asked.

“Stubborn as ever,” Priest said. “Couple stitches. Lotta blood. Nothin’ permanent. Bullets missed me. My bike took rounds and went down. Yours didn’t get that lucky. I crawled to you, dragged you behind the van. Danny and Jonesy covered me till I got there.”

I shut my eyes briefly.

Danny and Jonesy. Two prospects barely old enough to understand what they were signing on for and loyal enough to step into it anyway.

“We lost ’em,” Priest said quietly. “Both.”