Chapter 22 – Archer
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ARCHER
The nurse said only two would be allowed by her bedside, so of course, we ignored that rule. Me, Eden, Bernie, Mor, and Nyx are all sat around her bedside. I refuse to let go of her hand, needing to feel her touch, her soft skin beneath my fingertips.
“I’m not leaving her, so stop asking me,” I mutter, feeling exasperated with them constantly asking that.
“How is she doing?” Clare asks. I learnt that Clare used to work here, and I trust her more than the doctors that just seem to watch and wait for the day to decide to turn the machines off.
I exhale a slow breath. “Still no change.”
Clare looks at Betsy’s vitals and reads the machines keeping her alive. “They’re taking her for a scan today to check her brain activity,” I state. “I swear, they just want her out dead and the room free,” I seethe.
Clare places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Some do, yeah, but not all,” she states. “Once the results come back that she has normal brain function, then they can start testing why she won’t breathe without the machine,” Clare says with a small hopeful smile.
Watching them switch off her machine to see if she was ready to breathe on her own was the second most terrifying moment of my life.
The first being seeing her get shot. When the machines started beeping that she wasn’t responding, her heart rate slowed.
I yelled at them to switch it back on, not missing the look they exchanged.
I know they think I’m delusional for thinking that she will wake up, and I know that with each passing day the chances of that happening begin to dwindle away, but I refuse to lose her.
I refuse to believe that she won’t wake up and come back to me.
I wasted months watching her, playing with her.
All we had was one fucking night and one fucking day.
I haven’t got to tell her how with each minute I watched her, with each fucking time I pissed her off teasing her, bullying her to make her snap, to ignite that fiery temper of hers, the more I fell in love with her.
It's taken her months to only just see me for who I really am, but I knew how fucking incredible she was from the first moment I saw her, pulling onto her drive on that bike wearing the tight leathers that hugged her curvy petite frame, and when she removed her helmet, shaking out her dark hair.
As her gaze landed on mine, it was like I had been sucker punched right to the gut.
I smile at the memory of how her cheeks immediately turned a shade of deep pink as she averted her gaze, pushing her glasses up her nose in that fucking adorable way she does and tucking her hair behind her ear as she rolled her bike into the garage.
I lift her lifeless hand to my mouth and place a rough, bearded kiss on her soft palm.
I hadn’t shaved or showered. Only washing myself in the sink with soap and water.
I changed my clothes, only because Mor and Eden brought some in for me.
They came in every day and stayed for a few hours, taking it in turns to run the club and stay with her.
Bernie watched over me just as much as her.
I can’t miss the concern in her eyes when she looks at me, or the defeat. She doesn’t believe Betsy will wake up.
“Here,” Bernie says, handing me a Tupperware tub. “Chicken and noodle soup,” she says, handing me a spoon.
“I’m not that hungry.” I shrug, handing it back to her, even though my mouth is watering at the smell coming from it.
Bernie places her hands on her hips and glares at me. “You are wasting away. Do you want her to see you looking like this if she wakes up?” Bernie chastises.
“When,” I counter. “When she wakes up.” Bernie’s eyes soften.
“I suggest you do as she says, or she will force-feed you,” Mor says, walking into the room.
“Bernie, me, and Eden are going to stay here for the rest of the day. Do you mind keeping an eye on things back at the club with the others? We are due a shipment with the new vests and body cameras,” Mor orders, aiming her words at Bernie.
“Sure thing, and I know it’s none of my business, but you need to eat.
Betsy’s vitals are steady, and I bet if I took yours, they wouldn’t be.
You need to stay strong for her,” Clare says with a pointed look before she leaves.
I sigh and lift the lid off the soup and start eating it, my stomach grumbling in appreciation.
“When’s Eden getting here?” I ask Mor between mouthfuls.
She places a soft kiss on Betsy’s temple while looking down at her with sadness and love. It’s the same look we all appear to be carrying. “On her way. She’s picking up a few things first,” Mor answers as she takes a seat on the couch.
“New vests and cameras, hey?” I ask.
She gives me a nod with a tight smile. “If she was wearing a vest, she wouldn’t be fighting for her life.
I’m going to make it mandatory when we next have an assignment,” Mor states, her voice cracking with emotion.
She clears her throat. “Well, I need her to wake up so I can make sure I have her correct size.” She smiles softly.
Nyx walks in a moment later, carrying two crates of fresh coffees.
He places one next to me and hands one to Bernie, placing the others down on the side unit.
“Got one for Eden and whoever else is coming,” Nyx states, picking up his own and taking a seat on the couch next to Mor.
He drapes his arm around her, pulling her close.
I look on at them with envy, to have each other like that.
I would give anything to hold Betsy, and I’d never fucking let her go.
“Good afternoon,” one of the nurses sings cheerily as she walks in.
I don’t respond as she checks over Betsy.
As another two people come in and move her machines, I get to my feet and hand Bernie my soup.
“Mr. Brooks, we are taking her for her scan. You don’t need to come, as you are not permitted to enter the room,” the nurse firmly states.
I don’t bother learning any of their names, not caring who they are as long as they take care of Betsy. “I am aware, but I will wait outside for her,” I retort.
I don’t miss how the nurse rolls her eyes. I don’t give a shit if she thinks I’m being ridiculous. I will not leave her, and if I can’t be in the same room as her, then I will wait outside.
“Ready?” She asks the other staff. They nod. “Well then, Mr. Brooks, let’s go.”
“We will be back in a little while,” I say to them as I follow Betsy.
I walk alongside her the entire way, never letting go of her hand until they stop at the double doors. “Okay, Mr. Brooks, we will be as quick as we can.”
“I don’t care if you’re quick. I only care if you’re efficient,” I counter back before placing a kiss on Betsy’s temple.
“I will be right here,” I whisper before taking a step back as they push through the doors.
I watch them until the door closes behind them.
Walking to the opposite wall, I slide down to sit on the floor, as there are no chairs. I just sit and wait.
“Mr. Brooks,” a soft voice calls. I jolt awake. Betsy! I rapidly blink as the nurse comes into my vision.
“Shit.” I sigh and rub my eyes before getting to my feet, immediately checking over Betsy. No change, but she’s okay.
“You should really go home and rest,” the nurse suggests. It’s all anyone fucking suggests.
“I am not leaving her!” I snap.
“Fine, but at least do Betsy and the rest of us staff a favour. Go and use the showers on the third floor,” the nurse quips, scrunching up her nose. I lean my head down and do a quick sniff, smelling nothing but medical soap.
“I don’t smell,” I argue.
“You don’t smell good, and if I were in Betsy’s situation right now, I wouldn’t wake up for a man smelling like the room I get my pap smear in. Shower, smell of you, and you never know. It could be the thing to bring her out of her coma.” The nurse shrugs.
As soon as I enter Betsy’s room, I decide I should take the nurse’s advice. “I need to shower,” I state to the room.
Eden holds up a backpack. “Got you covered.”
I frown and take it from her, looking from Mor to the nurse. Mor slides money to the nurse and gives her a wink. “You fucking played me.” I smirk.
“And I’m not even sorry. Look, the whole room smells like a hospital; you don’t need to smell like one, too. Now go shower in your manly shower gel and whatever shit it is you use. Then come back here and be ready for when she wakes,” Mor orders.
“Now I know why you’re the President of the club,” I mutter.
“Mate, you have no fucking idea just how bossy she can be,” Nyx says with a wink at Mor.
I pause, looking at Betsy as the nurses help make sure she’s okay before they leave. “She will be fine. Now go,” Eden orders, pointing to the door.
“Fine, I will be ten minutes,” I rush out and run out of the room to the elevator.
I manage to find the shower rooms. It’s supposed to be for patients, but with Mor paying off the nurse, I guess that now includes me, too.
I would be lying if I didn’t say the shower felt good, really fucking good.
I scrub myself clean and wash my hair, and once out of the shower, I change into the clean clothes Eden had packed for me.
I also noticed she packed a little electric shaver in there to trim back my beard.
I quickly use it, cutting my beard back to a light stubble.
I wash my face again and brush my teeth, looking at my reflection in the mirror.
My usual vibrant green eyes are dull, surrounded by dark circles.
I spit and swill my mouth out before wiping my face with a towel and exhale a long breath.
Tilting my head back, I close my eyes, locking down the emotions I want to let free.
Losing it won’t do Betsy or me any favours.
She won’t need to see that when she wakes. She needs me to be calm.
“Just keep it together,” I say to myself.
Exhaling a sharp breath, I turn and shove the towel into the backpack.
I bin my dirty clothes as I walk out of the room and jog up to Betsy’s floor and down the hall to her room.
As I walk through the door, her machines are beeping like crazy, staff are rushing around her, and Betsy’s body is convulsing.
I drop the bag on the floor and try to push my way to her. “What the fuck happened to her?!” I roar, panic seizing my chest. I’m yanked back by Nyx.
“Let them work, man,” he says firmly, still holding me back.
The doctors and nurse all talk over each other.
None of it I understand. Mor, Eden, and Bernie watch on in horror, gripping onto each other tight.
“Her temperature is a hundred and five. Increase antibiotics,” he orders.
I can’t breathe. I won’t allow myself to breathe until I know she’s okay.
“Cool packs now. We need to bring her temperature down,” he barks.
Nurses run in and out of the room with medicine and ice, packing it around her body.
Her convulsing stops, but the doctor continues to check her over.
“Who was the last person to record her vitals?” the doctor barks.
A young nurse raises her hand. “You didn’t document her temperature.
She has been left for hours with most likely an increasing temperature.
She probably has an infection in her lung, and now I have to open her back up again, risking her life further to clear out the area.
You could have killed her!” he yells. The nurse runs out of the room crying.
“Easy, sir, she’s a student nurse,” one of the older nurses states.
“I don’t care if she’s got awards after her name; her incompetence could have killed this patient,” he snaps. In that moment, I decide I like this doctor. I step forward, and Nyx lets go of my arm.
“What happens now?” I ask. All eyes come to me.
The male doctor walks around to talk to me face-to-face.
“She clearly has an infection. I am going to take her down to the operating theatre and x-ray her chest to see if we can see the area. Then I will have to go in and clean the affected area. If this was detected early enough, plenty of IV antibiotics would have been the first course of action, but as her temperature is so dangerously high, I believe it’s too late to try that,” he states firmly.
“Is that why she won’t breathe on her own?” I press.
He shrugs. “Possibly. Her body is already so weak, and adding an infection to that, it could well be her body’s way of stating she’s not ready yet,” he adds, and I know he’s dumbing down what he’s saying for me, but I don’t care.
For the first time since she’s been here, I feel like someone actually cares, and is not just waiting to free up the machines and bed.
I suppose it’s the curse of small-town hospitals.
“Thank you. You are the first doctor that’s really felt like you’re trying to help her and not free up the bed,” Mor says, coming to my side.
He gives us a small nod. “A lot of them do care. There are just too many people relying on this small hospital. It puts a strain on us all.”
They go to wheel her out of the room, but I push forward, stopping them to place a kiss on her temple. “Keep fighting your way back to me, baby. You hear me? Don’t give up on me,” I whisper against her skin, giving her one last kiss before stepping back.
They wheel her out, but the doctor pauses. “I promise I will do my best for her,” he says as some way of reassurance, but all I hear is what he doesn’t say. He can’t promise she will be okay.