Chapter 34
__________
Jack
Everything about hospital waiting rooms is horrible. The chairs aren’t comfortable, no matter how nice they look. So I don’t sit. Can’t. It’s impossible. The room is too small. It has nothing to do with the fact my family, friends, and brothers fill every chair and empty spaces along the walls. Some even line the hallway outside the door.
More brothers and families are downstairs in the main waiting room. When we overfilled the main waiting room earlier, a nurse brought us up here. The entire room stood to follow her. The nurse said the immediate family only. Everyone still waited to follow her. Dad stepped forward and divided our group. My family and our closest friends are up here. We’re Lily’s immediate family for ever how long she has left, whether it’s a few hours, minutes, or seconds. She’s ours. If it’s years or decades, she’s ours. Mine. She’s mine, and I failed her.
They shoved us into a corner to get us out of the way of other visitors. A sea of black leather with a double set of gold wings on the back apparently strikes fear into the hearts of regular people. Normal people? The faint of heart? Who knows what they’re called? Others? That might be a better word. I don’t know. Thinking about it hurts my brain. Shallow, they’re definitely shallow. We’re good people. We love deeply and fight hard for our own. If ‘others’ can’t look beyond the sea of black to realize it, that’s on them, not us.
We’re shut in here, out of their way, closed off from the rest of the world. It’s suffocating. It’s why I’m standing in this corner, leaning against the window sill. It’s supposed to feel open here without the walls. It’s not. The glass stops the air. Glass doesn’t stop bullets, though. Glass shatters. I hear it now. It’s deafening. I’ll hear it for the rest of my life. I hate glass. I hate everything.
I glance toward the door. I can’t move the rest of my body. My body’s numb, yet it still hurts. My eyes drift back to the man less than two feet from me. Jay lifts an eyebrow and shakes his head. He doesn’t have to worry. I’m not storming down the hall to the nurses' station to yell at them for the millionth time. I’m not supposed to move at all.
Hospital staff threatening to call security didn’t stop me from yelling and screaming at them. Security threatening to throw me out and call the cops didn’t stop me. The Sheriff’s threats to arrest me didn’t stop me. My club President ordering me into this corner tested my limits. Jay’s words stopped me.
“Lily needs you here.”
Lily.
My angel.
Needs me.
So, here I stand, numb, hurting, silenced, yet screaming into the darkness. Here, I wait.
The windows aren’t floor-length. Jay leans back against the four-foot-high wall. His head sometimes rests against the glass. I wanna smack it away. Because glass breaks. I can’t move, though. The numbness holds me in place.
My cousin is my strength and support tonight. I’m no fool, though. He’s also Dad’s muscle. Jay’s strong. He’s resilient. I’ve never seen anybody who can think through a fight like he can. Most men only think about swinging and swinging hard, so you come out the winner. Jay sees moves before they happen. Jay’s dangerous. His help’s needed tonight, for me, for Dad, and for everybody in this building.
Rodeo stands shoulder to shoulder with me on my right. Bankz and Hendrix are next down the line. There are no windows behind them. Worley Bird and Big Papa lean against each side of the doorway. Dad walks the room, comforting Mom, Nana, my sisters, niece, and nephew. I’m not getting out of this room unless Dad says so. I’m outnumbered and outmuscled. I’m stuck in the corner. My head rests against glass that breaks. I’m numb and hurting. She’s somewhere in this building, unconscious and fighting.
My eyes pop open when I feel the room shift. Everyone’s on their feet, staring at the door. Jay taps my arm and motions to the door with his head. He and Rodeo take my arms and guide me toward the doctors and nurses. No one smiles. Not a good sign. My family surrounds me when I step in front of the lead doctor. Why are there so many doctors and nurses behind him?
“Mr. McLeod.” My eyes snap to his. “I’m Doctor McCormick.”
“Lily?”
“Miss Harman is out of surgery and in recovery.” He still doesn’t smile.
“She… she’s okay?” The universe throws me some hope.
“She’s stable and resting at the moment,” Doctor McCormick replies. “After recovery, we’ll move her to ICU.”
“ICU?”
“Yes, Mc. McLeod. We need to monitor her very closely for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. We have Miss Harman in a medically induced coma,” he explains.
“Coma?” I don’t think I like this doctor. “You put her in a coma!” I roar.
I take a half step before arms wrap around mine. Dad moves Mom back and our family back a few feet. I see red, and it covers Doctor McCormick. I want Lily awake and talking to me. This man put her in a coma? I’m going to put him in one, but it won’t be medically induced. Jay can’t stop me this time.
The small hand on my chest does stop me. Big blue eyes stare up at me. I know her. I think.
“Don’t,” Jay firmly orders. He leans close and speaks right into my ear. “Don’t move. Don’t hurt her.”
The brave little woman stays between me and Doctor McCormick. She swallows hard but doesn’t move.
“Jack.” Her voice is familiar.
I blink, take a deep breath, and push my anger back into the darkness. Her face comes into focus.
“Finley?”
She drops her hand from my chest. “Yeah, Jack. It’s me.”
“You’re here? How.”
Why does the preacher’s daughter keep showing up in the darndest places?
“I’m a student at Staten Medical College. Most of us intern here.” She steps to the side so I face the doctor again, not that I can’t see him over the top of her head. “Doctor McCormick is a great doctor. Lily couldn’t have asked for a better surgeon. Please don’t hurt him.”
“Lily? Is she going to be okay?” I don’t have the praise she does for this doctor, but I trust Finley.
“I wasn’t in there, Jack.” Finley shakes her head. “But Doctor McCormick and his team are her best chance at pulling through.”
“Okay.” My eyes meet the doctor’s again. “Is Lily going to be okay?”
“I can’t promise that just yet. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are crucial,” he replies.
“The coma? Why’s she in a coma?” The word alone scares me.
The doctor behind him on the left answers, “The body heals while it rests. Miss Harman couldn’t rest. Her body was fighting against us. We couldn’t stabilize her. Putting her in a medically induced coma was our best chance at saving her.”
This little doctor is better at explaining things. I might like her. Time will tell.
“The coma saves her?”
She sighs. Nope. I don’t like her, either.
“It helps give Miss Harman…”
“Lily,” I insist. I want them to say her name.
“Lily,” she corrects. “It helps Lily’s body fight how we need it to and not against us.”
“Who are you?” I look at the people behind the two doctors. “Who are they?”
“This is Trudy Shaw. She’s a medical student.” Doctor McCormick has said enough.
“No. No students. She needs doctors who know what they’re doing.” I glare at the surgeon. “I wanna see Lily.”
“Doctor McCormick, please forgive our son. What more can you tell us about Lily’s condition?” Mom asks.
“She was shot once. Another bullet grazed her shoulder. We were able to remove the bullet. However, it did puncture her right lung. She’s stable for now. We’ll move her to ICU shortly. The ICU nurses will give your family the visitation times. These will be short and limited. Lily will need quiet.” He glances at me and back to Mom. Yeah, she’s his best bet to talk to right now. “Any disturbances and the visits will stop.”
“We understand,” Mom says.
I glare at Doctor McCormick’s back as he and his medical team walk away. Finley and another nurse remain behind.
“I know you are scared. You probably don’t understand all the medical terms or what Doctor McCormick is doing, but I promise they’re fighting hard to save Lily,” Finley assures me. She motions to the nurse with long brown hair. “This is Dana. She’ll be Lily’s nurse tonight.”
“Are you a student, too?”
“No, Mr. McLeod. I graduated last spring,” Dana replies.
That’s about six months. Better than a student, I guess.
“I wanna see her,” I demand.
“I can take you and one other person to see her for a few minutes once she’s settled in ICU. You have to stay quiet, though. The more she rests right now, the better her chances are.” Dana steps back and waits for me to follow her.
I take Mom’s hand. “Go with me?”
“Of course I will.” Mom wipes tears from her cheeks with her palm. She slides under my arm, and we follow Dana to ICU. To Lily.