Chapter Forty-Four
JENNA
“At what point can we expect him to fully wake up?” Sitting next to Tommy’s bedside, the place where I’ve been planted for the past five days since the hit, I repeat the same question to his doctor I’ve asked over and over again.
He adjusts the oxygen mask on Tommy’s face and then walks across to a tray table, picking up Tommy’s medical file and taking down multiple notes.
“It’s hard to say, Miss Miller. But Tommy is a strong athlete and is already showing signs that he doesn’t need the oxygen mask. He’s responded well to being removed from the ventilator. Better than I anticipated, in fact.”
That’s the best news I’ve received since I walked into this hospital, and I pull out my phone to text Helen the update. She’s back at Tommy’s place, cleaning.
Like mother, like son.
I set my phone down on the edge of Tommy’s mattress and ask the doctor just as he turns to leave the room, “Is there anything more I can do to help?”
I focus back on Tommy. He looks so peaceful despite the fight his body has been—and still is—going through.
“With the increased leg and facial movements we’ve seen over the past forty-eight hours, I would suggest that Tommy’s consciousness is becoming more aware.
While he cannot see anything, he may be able to hear you.
Lots of patients have reported this when they’ve fully woken from a coma.
To reorient him, you may want to speak with him directly and remind him that you and his family and friends are all here. ”
So, basically, I need to keep doing everything I have been since he was put into the ambulance.
I offer the doctor an acknowledging smile as he turns to leave.
When the door closes behind him, all I’m left with is silence and incessant beeping from the machines that have helped keep my boyfriend alive.
I’m grateful to every person and piece of equipment that has played its role, but I know there’s only so much medicine can do.
Now it’s down to Tommy to wake up and confirm what the scans have all shown.
That there is no significant sign of brain damage.
My phone lights up with an incoming message, and I click into it, expecting a reply from Helen.
Collins
Jenna, since I know you’ll be nowhere else but at his bedside right now, I need you to tell your boyfriend something …
I actually went to the gym today. That’s right. I did exercise. I’m that stressed out over all of this. So, for the love of God and to save myself from having to go through that ordeal ever again, can he please wake the fuck up now and be okay? TIA.
I snort a laugh to myself.
“Tommy,” I whisper, squeezing his good hand gently, “Collins is exercising—she’s that twisted up over you. So, you should know that’s how much you are loved around here.”
I wait for a response or sign that he’s heard me, but nothing comes. I know he can hear, and I know the doctor is expecting him to wake at any time.
Keeping his oxygen mask in place, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. I’m surprised he hasn’t developed sores from where I’ve kissed him that often.
“Please, please wake up, Tommy. I miss you. So fucking much.”
Picking up my phone, I open YouTube and search for a song I haven’t yet played him. “Paranoid” by Black Sabbath.
“I meant what I said that day in your car,” I tell him. “The lyrics of this song will always remind me of you. But not in the way I know you now. They’re who you were when I met you.”
I stand from his bed and pick up his comb, parting his hair to one side and styling it in the way I know he likes best.
Setting the comb down, I retake my seat next to him, along with his hand.
He still looks so peaceful, the gentle rise and fall of his chest letting me know that big heart of his is still going strong.
Me
I told him, Collins. He hasn’t laughed yet, but I’m sure he will when he wakes up. That, and he’ll probably offer you a monthly pass to his home gym. Just to irritate you.
Collins
At this point, I’ll sign up for the whole fucking year if it means Tommy can ask me himself.
Kendra
The boys are heading over to the hospital straight after practice. Jack is determined that if he isn’t awake by the time they get there, then he’s going to put onion paste in Tommy’s hair gel.
Darcy
And I’ll force him to come shopping with me. I know how much he loves the mall. And people.
Collins
Yeah, that’s actually way worse than going to the gym.
WAKE UP, TOMMY!
A knock on the door makes me jump, and I spin around to see Holt as he walks into the room. He was due to leave Brooklyn right after the game and head home to see Mom for the new year. But he decided to stay here and support me. Truthfully, I needed him, and he knew it.
He casts his eyes down at my phone as it finishes up playing Black Sabbath. “That was one of my favorite tunes when I was younger.”
I tip my head at Tommy, closing out of YouTube and setting my phone down so I can take Tommy’s hand in both of mine.
“The doctor said that speaking to him as he begins to wake can help with familiarization of his surroundings. I remember when I got in his car once, that song was in his playlist. He told me it was one of his favorites.”
Holt takes the seat facing me and next to Tommy’s bedside. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod my head once.
“Back when we first got here and the doctor told us about the coma, you said that Tommy had saved you from something really bad happening.”
I glance at Holt and then back at Tommy, tears starting to form in my eyes. “I did.”
Holt sits forward in the chair, setting a hand on my forearm. “I’m going to be really honest with you, Jenna.”
My heart sinks at the way he says that, and I close my eyes tightly. The last thing I need is for Holt to tell me that I’m an idiot for getting myself into stupid situations.
“I trusted the guy to walk me home, and I thought that was all he was going to do. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve already berated myself enough over what happened.”
Holt pulls back, shock painting his face.
“Jenna, are you kidding me right now? I would never blame you for what happened. The only person who needs to take a look at themselves is the guy who tried to attack you.” He puffs out a slow breath and sits back again.
“Was it the same guy who claimed Tommy had punched him in an unprovoked attack? Ethan was his name, right?”
I don’t respond, allowing my silence to confirm it.
“Yes. And before you ask, I did make a statement to help set the record straight, and I did let the police know what happened too. I knew you were waiting and praying for Tommy to be traded away from New York. Truthfully, I was dreading it. So, I stepped up to defend justice and what was right. I think that was the catalyst between me and Tommy. It was a wake-up call for us both—realizing how much we meant to each other regardless of all the pain we’d caused. ”
Holt looks at Tommy for a second. There’s distress in his features but also gratitude, and I know it’s because of what Tommy did for me. My brother doesn’t need to know all the details of what went down that night.
“You wanted to be really honest with me?” I remind Holt of what he said earlier.
“Yeah,” he replies, clicking his tongue, “I did.”
“Tell me what you were going to say,” I press.
Holt looks unsure.
“Please,” I say.
He shifts in his chair and glances at my boyfriend again. “When you first told me that Tommy had saved you from an attack, I was worried that you felt like you owed him something. Or that you could have your feelings confused over him.”
I go to shut that shit straight down, but Holt gets there first.
“And I’m glad I didn’t say that to you at the time because …” He drops his eyes to my hands, wrapped around Tommy’s. “I know now that you aren’t mixed up over him at all.”
He smiles like he’s having a private joke with himself or possibly like that feeling is familiar to him. I want to ask what that’s about but decide that now isn’t the right time.
“You love him, don’t you, Jen?”
I couldn’t be surer of anything in my entire life.
“Yes,” I whisper, picking Tommy’s hand up and kissing his tattooed knuckles. “I do. I only wish I’d stopped fucking around and returned the words before he took the hit.”
Another tear slides down my cheek, splashing onto Tommy’s hand. I don’t bother to wipe it away. I know Tommy wouldn’t want me to.
Holt stands from his chair, leaning down to set a soft kiss into my hair. “Then tell him now. The doctors have said he’ll likely be listening. So, go ahead, sis. Tell your man that you love him.”
As the door closes behind Holt, I’m left, once again, with only the beeps of Tommy’s machines, and I tip my head toward the ceiling, making a silent plea to fate.
Please, let him be okay.
“Jenna.”
I practically give myself whiplash when Tommy whispers my name.
“Tommy!” I whisper-hiss. “Tommy, tell me I’m not hearing things.”
With the hand and wrist that’s in plaster, Tommy reaches up to try and remove his mask.
“No. No, baby. You need to keep that on.”
On a wince, he removes it anyway, and I’m too relieved to be mad at him.
“You need to put it back on,” I repeat.
Tommy’s eyes are barely open as he tries to absorb his surroundings. I can see the confusion in his eyes, but I take solace in the fact that he’s already said my name.
“Where the fuck am I?” He slurs his words, but I can make out what he’s asking.
“In the hospital,” I reply. “You took a bad hit, and you’re just waking up.”
“I had crazy dreams.”
I blow out a soft laugh and lean forward, setting a chaste kiss against his dry lips.
I want to offer him a drink, but I know I’m not allowed to do that. “Do you want me to wet your lips and call the nurse?”
I’m not sure if he understood what I said, and I go to pick up the cup of water set on the table next to his bed.
“No,” Tommy groans.
“What do you need?”
“You. To feel you.”
Leaning forward, I brush another kiss across his mouth. Blowing softly against his lips. “That’s all you’re getting for now.”
He smiles like he already knows.
I go to hit Call on the button next to his bed, but he squeezes the one hand that’s still wrapped around his.
“Zach Evans.”
I cock my head to one side. He’s definitely confused, but I decide to play along.
“What about him, Tommy?”
He rolls his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut, like he’s trying to find words. “In my dream.”
“You dreamed about Zach Evans?”
Since he’s still in a neck brace, Tommy can’t nod. “Yes, and a table.”
I lean forward and run my hand through his hair. “You have had some crazy dreams.”
Tommy takes a deep breath, fighting to push out a sentence. “He told me I would be okay.”
I squeeze his hand. “And he was right. You are, and you will be.”
When Tommy closes his eyes and drifts into a sleep, I replace his oxygen mask and hit Call next to his bed.
But before I pick up my phone to text everyone and let them know he’s awake, something settles over me.
Was Tommy dreaming?
My gaze scans the room, searching for clues that Tommy’s dream was real.
Rounding the bed, I come to a full stop when I set my eyes on the low table we haven’t used on the other side of Tommy’s bed.
A puck sits alone. It has the Scorpions logo in the center, along with words and a name scrawled underneath.
Get well soon, Tommy.
—Zach Evans
“Holy shit,” I whisper to myself, turning the puck around in my hands.
A small tap rattles against the glass of Tommy’s door, and I spin around, expecting it to be his medical team.
It isn’t.
Zach Evans, dressed in a black Scorpions cap and jacket, stands on the other side of the door.
He smiles through the glass at Tommy and then gives me a quick salute before he’s gone.
I knew he was in town to watch the game, but I had no idea he was still in Brooklyn or how he got a chance to visit Tommy.
I guess Coach Morgan or Jack could’ve signed him in, anticipating that he wanted to privately reach out to my boyfriend.
I guess if there’s anyone who would understand what he is going through, then it’s Zach.
Another bridge rebuilt, Tommy.
When the doctor arrives and pushes through the door, I tell him that Tommy is now awake and set the puck down on the mattress next to his hand, retaking my usual spot beside him.
Leaning forward, I know he’s in a deep sleep, but I’m certain he can hear me better than ever before.
“You weren’t dreaming, Tommy. Zach Evans was really here. He left you a Scorpions puck and wishes you well.”
As the doctor steps away to make some notes on his vitals, I lean a little closer to his ear, just to be sure he knows the score.
“You want to know something else?”
I watch the way his lips tip up into his trademark cocky smile—an expression I wouldn’t change for the world. He can hear and understand me just fine, and I know he can sense what I’m about to tell him too.
I place my palm over my favorite tattoo of his and let way overdue words tumble from my lips. “I love you. So fucking much.”