53. Chapter 52
Chapter 52
Keaton
A heavy weight pressed down on my chest. I groaned. Writhed. Reached up to my chest, but apart from a light fabric felt nothing. Why did it feel like my TRX had rolled over me? And that obnoxious beeping . . .
I forced my eyes open, squinting against a blinding sea of white. The air I breathed felt so clean. Pure. I reached up to my face. Felt plastic over my nose and mouth. An oxygen mask. Where was I? What was going on?
“Hey.”
The familiar voice pulled my gaze to the left, where Kingsley rose from a chair. As usual, he sported a black habit. It was the graveness in his green eyes that drew me back.
I pulled the oxygen mask off, the sterile smell of antiseptic stinging my nostrils.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, stepping up to the bed I was lying in. A hospital bed.
The fire. Layne.
I shot upright—
Pain ripped through my left side. I crumpled, pressing a hand to my ribs.
“Easy.” Kingsley grabbed my shoulder and steadied me.
“Layne,” I rasped. “Where is she?” I scanned the room, the monitors, the empty bed next to mine, but she wasn’t here. Not a single sign of her.
“She’s okay,” Kingsley said. “Inhaled a lot of smoke, but she’ll be all right. She’s in a dark room down the hall where she can get the rest she needs.”
“I have to see her.” I brushed Kingsley’s hand off my shoulder, ripped the cannula out of my arm and the electrodes from my chest, which caused the ECG to flat line. Gritting my teeth, I eased out of the bed. My ribs screamed. Felt like I was breathing fire.
“You should be resting, Keaton. You were literally dead. They brought you back twice. And you’ve got two cracked ribs.”
That explained a lot. Still, I had to see Layne. “Give me a hand, would ya?”
Kingsley sighed but gripped my elbow to help me stand. My legs shook, and if my brother wouldn’t have caught me, I would’ve face-planted into the floor.
“At least let me grab a wheelchair,” he said.
“No need.” I swayed but steadied myself against the bed. “I can walk.”
“And flash everyone?”
I glanced over my shoulder down my back. Grinned. “It’s just my backside. They’ll get over it.”
Kingsley chuckled. “As much as you have changed, there’s still some old Keaton in you.”
He was right, I had changed a lot over the past few months. Thanks to Layne—and God.
“Layne performed CPR on you,” Kingsley said as we edged our way into the hallway bustling with nurses, patients, and doctors in white coats. An announcement crackled over the speakers.
I stopped in my tracks, staring at my brother. “She saved my life?”
“Yeah.”
Words failed me. After the whole climbing onto the roof and jumping down, she’d overextended her energy to help me?
“What are you doing out here, Mr. Grady?” An elderly nurse stepped in front of me, scowling. “You need to get back in bed and explain to me where those bruises on your torso are coming from.”
“What can I say? I bellyflopped into a pool from a twenty-five-foot-high roof.” The way Rhyner had snapped . . . Whatever had happened to him was better left unsaid. Only him and me had witnessed it, and I wasn’t planning on telling anyone. It could cost him his career. “Now, if you would excuse me. I need to see my wife.” I swerved around her more swiftly than I should’ve been able to. Even when she yelled after me, I didn’t stop.
After what felt like a trek up freaking Mount Everest, Kingsley finally pointed at a closed door. “She’s in there.”
I approached and opened it. The room sat in semi-darkness, the drawn curtains only allowing a sliver of light in. Layne lay in a bed, an empty IV bag and oxygen mask hanging next to her.
My chest tightened. I hated that she’d gotten hurt because of me. All the progress she’d made over the past few months had probably gone down the drain. What if it had caused permanent damage?
Kingsley escorted me to Layne’s bed, then left us to it, closing the door behind him. I reached for Layne’s hand. The coldness of her skin scared me for a moment, but then her eyes fluttered open.
A soft smile lit up her face.
“Hey.” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “How are you feeling?”
“The usual when I’m having a crash.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m so glad you’re okay. They told me they managed to bring you back twice.”
“Kingsley told me you saved my life.”
Her eyes glazed over. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I know.” I lifted her hand to my lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I know.” I wanted to hold her, but that cursed illness . . . She had to be in so much pain.
There was another bed next to hers. I turned and rounded it to wheel it up beside hers.
Layne chuckled. “What do hospital gowns and insurance have in common?”
“What?” I asked, grinning.
“You’re never as covered as you think you are.”
I laughed, which sent a shock of pain through my ribs. Holding my side, I groaned. “No more jokes, please.”
“Look who’s the raccoon now.” She pointed at my face. “And you didn’t even need mascara for it.”
Snorting, I eased onto the extra bed and grabbed her hand again. “No, just Tripp Rhyner as my enemy.” I had yet to see my mug in a mirror but had no issues picturing what it looked like. My right eye hurt every time I blinked, and my head still pounded. “I deserved that.”
“No, you didn’t. He was out of line.”
I smoothed my thumb over her delicate skin. “You need to rest, babe. I’ll stay five minutes, then you need to get some sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Her exhaustion was evident in the weak smile she gave me. She closed her eyes. “Our home is gone.”
“Yeah. We’ll have to live in the suite for a while.”
“Okay.”
“Jesus,” I began to pray, “I lift Layne up to You. Give her rest and restore her body. And help us figure out the next steps. Amen.” Praying out loud was still weird, but at least it didn’t make me feel like a total imbecile anymore.
“Thank you,” Layne whispered.
I squeezed her hand. After another five minutes, I let her go. “I know my presence hurts you, so I’m gonna leave you to it.” When she nodded, I peeled myself out of bed and left the room. I’d check in on her later.
Kingsley was in the hallway, shoving off the wall he’d been leaning against and coming to support me. “She okay?”
“Yeah.” Maybe not physically, but she made up for it spiritually. Knowing that she was deeply rooted in Christ gave me a peace I couldn’t comprehend. Even though I’d never fully understand what she was going through, even though I couldn’t take her pain away, even though I couldn’t be there for her all the time, I knew that God did. He’d never fail her.
We came past a waiting room with a TV mounted on the wall, the seats unoccupied. It showed pictures of firefighters spraying a massive pile of smoking ashes and charred stone walls.
Our house.
Memories hit me like a freight train. The accelerant. The revelation I had in the inferno.
The arsonists. The people behind the threats and attacks.
“Do you have a phone?” I asked Kingsley, adrenaline dumping into my system. Hopefully it wasn’t too late.
He chuckled. “Not the right question to ask a monk.”
“I need one. Now.”
His brows drew together. “Okay? I’m sure we’ll find one somewhere.”
A nurse came toward us, a phone clipped to her pants.
I stopped her in her path. “I need that phone. It’s urgent.”
She raised an eyebrow, but pulled it away and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” I dialed Margo’s number, and when she picked up, asked for Bancroft’s contact, then dialed him.
“Detective Bancroft, DRPD. How can I help you?”
“It’s Grady.”
“Keaton.” He let out a curse. “We’re still looking for Aaron. Are you all right? They told me you made it—”
“I know who the second person is.” I looked at Kingsley. “Kimball.”