Chapter 29
MORRY
There was too much in her head to sit still, let alone relax.
She’d tried, but her bouncing knee had earned multiple glares from the strangers crammed into the connected seats. The smell of burnt coffee and antiseptic clawed at her nerves, and she’d already memorized every stain on the waiting room floor.
Trev sat at the far end of the room, calm and composed as ever, working away on his laptop like the sky wasn’t caving in. To her, it felt like the whole damn world was.
Both Jeremy and her son were under the knife for the transplant surgery.
Hours had passed with no update. Dean was still trapped with his father, if he was even alive, and Maeve was missing.
And on top of that pile of shit, her ex-husband had been a raging douche, trying to get her friends kicked out of the hospital because he didn’t like them.
This whole situation was a fuck sandwich—rage, fear, and emotional turmoil for the bread, meat, and condiments.
Morry turned to start another lap of pacing and spotted Andrew coming toward her with a coffee and a sandwich for himself and Lindsey, who wisely hung back. How that woman could still be with him after what he’d pulled, she had no clue.
Morry had forgiven Lindsey. She’d been a huge help in keeping Andrew at bay, and life was too damn short to keep bleeding from old wounds.
But forgiveness didn’t erase the image of her best friend’s ass on the laptop, bent over while Andrew fucked her, right in her face.
That kind of betrayal tattooed itself under the skin.
Andrew’s miserable glare met hers. She shook her head, disgust curling in her chest. Of course, he wouldn’t offer to get anyone else something. Typical.
He was closing in, but it was her father, the Colonel, who stepped into his path.
Morry didn’t move, couldn’t hear what was said, but when her father finally stepped aside, Andrew looked like he’d seen a ghost. Pale and small.
The Colonel gave her a subtle nod and crossed the room to sit beside Trev and her brother, Emmitt, once more.
Her father and Trev were cut from the same damn cloth. Serious, methodical, unflappable. Men who could command a room with a whisper. She envied that kind of control—especially now.
Andrew slunk off to the far corner, sulking instead of celebrating that his son had an army of people here praying for him. Some people were allergic to gratitude.
Trev was working for Morry now and had already managed to get her parental rights reinstated and secure a full fifty-fifty custody split. She owed him everything for that, and she knew it. Why she hadn’t called him sooner, she’d never understand.
The employee door opened, and Dr. Zittle stepped out. Twenty people shot to their feet like dominoes. Morry and Andrew rushed forward.
“How is he, Doctor?” Andrew blurted.
“Both are out of surgery and stable,” Zittle said. “They’re in recovery. I’ll let you know when you can visit. The next few days are crucial, and we’ll monitor Kyle closely for organ rejection, but I’m hopeful.”
Relief hit like a body blow. Morry threw her arms around the doctor. “Thank you. I can never repay you.”
Zittle gave a small, rare smile. Doctors may be the only ones more stoic than her father.
“Can I speak with you privately?” he asked.
Andrew huffed, offended, but she didn’t care. She followed Zittle into the hallway. He crossed his arms, and her pulse thudded in her ears.
“We have an issue with Jeremy.”
Her stomach dropped as every horrific possibility ran through her mind.
“Before we put him under, he made it clear he didn’t want any pain medications. I understand his history and respect his recovery, but I’m concerned. The pain will be intense, and I don’t want him risking cardiac stress, tearing of the surgical site, or any other complications.”
Shit.
She leaned against the wall, pressing a hand to her forehead. They’d talked about this, and he’d promised he would take the meds. When had he changed his mind?
“Okay,” she said after a beat. “I’ll talk to him when he wakes up.”
Zittle gave her shoulder a reassuring pat before heading back down the hall.
Shit.
An hour later, she was going back and forth between Kyle’s and Jeremy’s recovery bays. God forbid her boyfriend, a reformed addict who’d just saved their son’s life, be allowed in the same room. Andrew wouldn’t hear of it. Such a dick.
She was half-tempted to hire Trev for a different kind of job, one that involved removing Andrew permanently. But she wouldn’t…for now…for Kyle’s sake.
Kyle had woken briefly, managed a tired smile, and was now sleeping peacefully again. Jeremy, though, was slower to wake.
Morry slipped into his room and sat down beside the bed, linking their fingers. His hand was warm, and that alone gave her comfort.
“Come on, Jeremy. Wake up,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.
“I like it when you show off your softer side,” he rasped.
She jumped, a half-sob slipped from her lips as she practically launched herself onto him.
“You’re an asshole for scaring me,” she whispered against his shoulder.
Jeremy chuckled, then winced. She eased back immediately. “You want some water?”
Jeremy nodded, she grabbed the large plastic cup and held the straw to his lips. She watched him sip slowly, but steadily. When he finished, she set the cup aside and cupped his jaw, her eyes searching his face as she tried to figure out the best way to bring up the sensitive topic.
“Zittle told you, didn’t he?” Jeremy asked, beating her to the punch.
“About the pain meds? Yeah.”
“I can’t do it, Morry.” His voice cracked.
“I can’t go back. I’ve worked too hard. I still remember what it felt like.
How everything buzzed, how I thought I was flying, how I craved that next hit, the pain of getting off them.
I hated it and what it turned me into, but God, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I loved it too, that I missed it, and still struggled from time to time.
I know I’m not that person anymore, but—”
“I know,” she said softly. “I was there with you. I know exactly who you are now.”
He laid his hand over hers. “And how hard I’ve fought to get you to see me as more than the fuck-up you saved. I can’t go back to lying, stealing, and using in dark corners. I won’t do it. I’m scared that I will fall into the old trap and have to start all over again.”
She understood, she really did, but this was a serious situation that could end his life if he didn’t take something. But how could she ask him to take them at the risk of his sobriety?
“Then we make a deal,” she offered. “No narcotics unless you’re in danger, and you have to trust Zittle if he tells you that you’re in danger.”
Jeremy tried to look away, but Morry held his gaze, forcing him to meet her eyes. He hesitated, then sighed, and in that moment, she could clearly see every one of his fears laid bare.
“I’m not leaving you,” she whispered. “If you slip, if we need to start the process over, I’m with you all the way. Do you hear me?”
Tears welled in his eyes. “God, I’ve never been so scared.
I hate how weak that makes me sound, but I’m fucking terrified that I won’t be strong enough a second time.
It’s like this demon inside of me always whispering that just once won’t hurt.
The urge can be so strong and now, I may have to give in… Morry…”
“You’re not weak,” she interrupted him. “And the fact that you can admit just how scared you are proves that. It’s the reason you won’t end up like that again.
” He looked down, and Morry leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“You’re not alone. You have an entire MC that will kick your ass,” she teased. “And you have me. Always.”
“But what if I lose myself again? What if I can’t find a way to claw my way out?”
“Then I’ll make you dig another hole to remind you who you are.” She leaned in closer. “Please, Jeremy. I can’t go help Dean if I’m worried you’ll die here because you refused the meds. I need to know you’ll fight to live. That you’ll fight for us.”
He exhaled hard, his lip trembling. “Okay. I promise. If it gets unbearable, I’ll take something, but not until I have to, and only the smallest dose.
But the doc must agree not to give me control.
I don’t want that push a button to give myself more shit.
No, just no.” He paused and stared up at the ceiling.
“And I want two of our guys out in the hall that can stop me if I try anything stupid. I don’t know what, I’m just covering all bases. ”
“Deal.”
She kissed him softly, and as always, his touch was grounding. They closed their eyes, her forehead touching his until her heart stopped racing.
“How did the surgery go?” Jeremy asked quietly.
“Amazing. Kyle’s resting. You should too. I’m going to let Zittle know you’re awake and go over what we just discussed with him.”
As she turned to leave, he caught her hand. “Morry, I love you. And if I have to fight that demon again, there’s no one else I’d rather do it with.”
She smiled, throat tight. “I love you with my whole heart. Always.”
Morry gave him a wink and walked out, steadier than before. But the fear of what was coming—the rescue, the war, the price of it all—clung to her shoulders like body armor she couldn’t take off.
She ordered herself to breathe so her mind didn’t spiral out of control again. The next time she walked into a fight, she’d have to leave her fear here at the hospital. That terrified her more than getting shot at.