Chapter 26
Patrick
Cain doesn’t get home until seven o’clock on Saturday night. Once again, he’s pale, he hasn’t eaten, and he hasn’t slept in thirty-eight hours.
“Christ, Cain. You keep this up, and you’ll be the one on the table before long,” I tell him, pulling his work bag off his shoulder and guiding him to the couch. I’ve already heated his dinner for him, and I go back to the kitchen to grab it while he gets settled.
“You don’t have to baby me, you know,” he says, but there’s no real fire behind his words. “I come home to an empty house after days like this all the time.”
“That’s tragic,” I tell him, placing the plate of warm food in his lap, surprised by how much I mean it.
I’m even more surprised when he agrees.
“Yeah, I suppose it’s starting to get old. Maybe that’s part of why I wanted you to stay.”
He’s delirious with exhaustion. That’s got to be it. Cain Rosemont doesn’t give in to silly human responses like fatigue, stress, or loneliness.
“Thank you for this,” he adds at the end.
“Your chef prepared it. I just heated it up,” I explain, unsure what to do with this version of Cain. “How was the hospital?”
“A clusterfuck of epic proportions. I’m sorry you were here alone all day.”
Without thinking, I reach over and place the back of my hand on his forehead.
“Holy shit, I think you need a doctor. You just apologized,” I tease.
“Good thing I am a doctor. And what I need is to eat, take a shower, and fall asleep for about eighteen hours.” Looking over at me grimaces. “I know it’s not that exciting a weekend, but any chance you want to spend it in bed with me?”
My smile is genuine when I answer, giving him the truth.
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do more.”
“Patrick, can you pass the rolls?” Damon asks from across the table.
It’s been six weeks since my assignment in Boston ended. I managed to make sure the surgeons weren’t going to burn the building down, but that’s about it. Ultimately, the administration had already made their plan and signed the paperwork. There was no middle ground to be found.
I pass the basket to my son-in-law with a smile, thankful that there’s no longer any awkwardness between us, and no more pangs of loss when I see Damon’s face.
“Have you heard from Cain today?” Liam asks, heavily invested in my and Cain’s budding friendship.
“No, but he’s operating today, so I imagine it’ll be late when he calls,” I tell my son.
“Have you guys DTR’d yet?”
“Have we what?” I ask in alarm, not ready nor willing to discuss my sex life with Liam.
Damon laughs.
“It means ‘defined the relationship,’” he says, translating the unfamiliar slang.
“Oh. Uh, no. Cain doesn’t really do relationships. I’m just glad to have reconnected with an old friend,” I lie.
“Hmhm-bullshit,” Liam coughs into his hand with a smile.
Cain has stayed in my life through texts, calls, and FaceTime, and we talk just about every day.
Cain is still Cain, however, so it’s a lot of phone sex, but sometimes he just needs to vent about his day.
Sometimes, he just props the phone up while he eats, but it’s the healthiest relationship we’ve ever had.
As if conjuring him with our conversation, my phone rings. A Boston area code appears on the screen, but I don’t recognize the number.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Is this Patrick Miller?” The familiar voice of Dan Rutledge fills my ears.
“Hello, Dan. Nice to hear from you again.”
“I’m sorry?” he says, confusion and frustration painting his tone.
“I was the team leader with the arbitration group hired after the merger. I assumed that’s why you were calling?” I say, pushing back from the kitchen table, not wanting to bore Damon and Li with work.
“Oh, well, that’s interesting, but uh, no, that’s not why I’m calling.”
The longer his pause goes on, the higher my heart rate climbs.
“Okay. Why are you calling?” I ask.
“There’s been an incident.”
Another pause causes me to lose my patience.
“For Christ’s sake, Dan. Spit it out.”
“Cain Rosemont was shot in the hallway of the hospital earlier today by a family member of a patient he lost.”
My knees buckle, and I land with brutal force on the hardwood floor. My ears are ringing. My chest hurts. I have tunnel vision.
At some point, I realize someone is shaking my shoulder.
The phone is still in my hand.
I’ve lost the ability to speak.
Something in my brain tells me to put the phone back up to my ear. Maybe I misheard him, and I need him to repeat himself.
“Patrick? Hello? Are you there?” Dan says.
“Mmm,” I manage to hum.
“Cain had you listed as his emergency contact, which is why I’m calling now. He’s in surgery, but it doesn’t look good. Can you get here today?”
“Yes.”
Can I? I can’t even stand up. How the fuck am I supposed to make it to Boston?
The phone finally slips from my hand, and Liam and Damon are on either side of me. I have no idea when they followed me out here.
“Dad, what’s going on?” Liam asks, his voice full of concern.
“Cain…he’s been shot. He’s in surgery, but…”
I can’t finish the sentence.
“Ohmygod! Dad, that’s awful!”
“I need to go.”
“Yeah, of course, come on. I’ll help you pack. Damon and I will go with you.”
My head whips toward Liam.
“You don’t have to do that, son. I’m not sure what I’m walking into.”
“Whatever it is, you shouldn’t walk into it alone,” Liam says.
Damon stays quiet but is typing furiously on his phone. He leaves to take a call while Liam helps me get my shit in a bag. I sit, completely useless, on the edge of the bed. A few minutes later, Damon walks back into the room.
“I know it’s probably not ideal, but Tay’s working a flight to Boston tonight before going to Chicago. He confirmed that there were seats available if we wanted them. It leaves in an hour, so we really need to haul ass if we’re going to make it.”
I nod.
“Yes, please.”
I’ll deal with being face-to-face with Taylor once I actually am, but right now, all I can think about is getting to Cain as fast as possible.