53. Indie
Chapter 53
Indie
W hen I’m stressed, I pace. Back and forth. I wear a goddamned path in the floor with how much I pace. I can’t stop myself. We arrived at the hospital an hour ago, and they’d stuck us in the waiting room, and then we haven’t heard anything since as they work on Beau.
“Come here , periodista ,” Ram says, reaching for me.
“I can’t,” I say, continuing to pace. “I have to keep moving.”
Tripp looks up at me, his eyes tired. I’m sure we all look a mess. Hell, I have blood all over me. Someone had finally come out and offered me a wet towel to wipe most of the blood from my hands after I’m sure I’d scared someone with the scene we’d created sitting around here. Still, I hadn’t been able to scrub hard enough to get my arms completely clean. Blood still crusts the wrinkles in my hand and under my nails.
“They’ll come tell us if something changes,” Tripp says, trying to offer comfort despite the situation.
I don’t know how he’s so calm. I don’t know how either one of them is so calm.
“Nothing is going to happen to Beau. El diablo no se lo llevará ,” Ram adds. “Seriously.”
“How do you know?” I ask, my heart beating wildly in my chest. It’s been too long. They should have come out and talked to us already. Shouldn’t they have?
“We’ve been here before,” Tripp says. “When he was gored by a bull.” I glance at him, and he shrugs. “We were teenagers, and Beau wasn’t quite as fast yet. He went the wrong way, got nabbed by the bull in his gut. Ironically in the same place as the bullet.” Tripp nods. “Suffice it to say, that man ain’t goin’ anywhere until he decides he is. And he likes bein’ alive way too much to die.”
Somehow, those words do help a little. Not enough for me to stop pacing, but enough for me to take a few deep breaths and calm my racing heart.
A few minutes later though, that forced calm is ruined when the doctor finally appears from the double doors. I stop and stare at him, preparing myself for whatever it is he’s about to say, whether it’s bad news or good. I can’t tell from his expression.
Fuck, I can’t tell from his expression!
“You here for Beau Rogers?” the doctor asks, looking between me and the two men that shoot to their feet and flank my sides.
“We are,” Tripp answers. “He good?”
The doctor looks between us, and I curse the fucking time it takes him to actually answer. Finally, the fucker says, “The surgery went well. We removed the bullet and got him all fixed up.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of metal. “He was lucky. The bullet glanced off this and it forced it to the side. What would have been a critical hit in his liver turned into a less critical hit in his muscle. He’ll be down for a while, but he’ll recover just fine.”
I stare at the metal in his hand and reach for it. He drops it into my palm and I’m able to see exactly what it is. The moment I do, I start to laugh, unable to contain my amusement.
“That lucky duck,” I say between laughter, wiping tears from my eyes that are both from joy and left over from the worry about him. Relief fills me as I hand the metal lighter to Ram to inspect.
“ No manches ,” he breathes, turning it over in his hand. There’s a large dent in the front of it that renders it useless now, but I’d say it’s done its job.
“That was in his coat pocket,” the doctor says. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy things, but this definitely takes the cake. That man has a guardian angel.”
“Or a lucky duck,” I muse, smiling at him. “Can we see him?”
The doctor nods. “He’s waking up now. We’ll come get you when he’s ready.”
It takes twenty minutes for them to come get us and I bounce on the balls of my feet in anticipation until they do. When a nurse finally comes out to escort us, we follow her back to a small room. The moment we walk inside, I get a good look at Beau in the hospital bed.
He looks groggy, his eyes half-lidded and his head tipped back against the lifted up mattress. When we walk in, he lifts his head, a crooked grin splitting his lips.
“Just who I was hopin’ to see,” he says, his words a little slurred. “Indie bird, I’ve always wanted to have sex in a hospital. Quick! Take off your clothes!”
I laugh even as the nurse shakes her head in amusement. “He’s got strong enough drugs in him to knock out a horse right now,” she offers as explanation. “Try not to hold anything he says against him.”
“Hold everythin’ against me,” Beau argues. “You hush, Linda. Don’t spoil my fun.” He points to the nurse. “This is Linda, you guys. She saved my life.”
“That would be Doctor Hayes, darlin’,” she says, patting his arm.
Beau shakes his head. “You and I both know you do all the work around here,” he declares, not trying to be quiet. He turns back to me and wiggles his eyebrows lazily. “I’m wearing a hospital gown, Indie bird. Easy access.”
I rush over to the bed and throw my arms around him, happy tears flowing from my eyes. Despite it all, Beau is still just Beau. He’s alive. And he’ll be okay. And everything. . . even if things are still bad, still crazy, it doesn’t matter.
He’s alive.
He wraps his arms around me tightly, holding on. “It’s okay, Indie bird,” he murmurs. “I love you, too.”
Tripp walks over and Beau reaches his hand out. Tripp immediately launches into a complicated handshake that poor groggy Beau can’t keep up with. “Come on, man,” Tripp says. “Your inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart.”
Beau laughs and tips his head back before Tripp grins and leans down to hug him despite me still wrapped in his arms.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah, wey ,” Ram says roughly, coming over to squeeze his shoulder. “We can’t have you dyin’ on us. It wouldn’t be fair.”
Beau tugs us all in for a big bear hug. Linda sees us and slips out, giving us time to actually enjoy the moment. Beau lifts up his head the second the door closes behind her.
“Quick,” he says. “She’s gone. Everyone get naked!”
Our laughter fills the room, and all is good in this world.
At least for now. . .