Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
OREN
Dried crimson stained my hands, my relentless scrubbing having worked only some of it away.
The rest coated the underside of my nails, stark against the hospital bed they were splayed on.
With the metronomic beeps playing in the background, I adjusted the sheet over his torso, tucking it in slightly to keep him warm… If… If he even needed it.
The doctors had worked through the night to not only bring him back but also keep him stable. He’d lost a lot of blood, and it was even a miracle that after he was revived, he fought long enough to receive a transfusion.
Shifting the bandage wrapped around my arm, I laced my fingers with his, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. If not for their efforts, he wouldn’t even be here. While the first battle was over, his recovery would depend on him. Thorne, my love, was a fighter, but he’d fought his entire life.
He always carried heavy burdens, shouldering too much until the weight became impossible to maintain.
This wouldn’t be any different, and while I wanted to see his smile, hear his laughter, and feel the warmth of his skin against mine, he needed rest. Actual rest that he never had the opportunity to take before.
Scrunching my nose, I winced at the movement, the rawness seeping into my cheeks, dried saltwater irritating the afflicted skin. I wasn’t sure how long I cried in Simon’s arms before he whisked me into the back of the ambulance.
It was a moment frozen in time—a moment I would never forget as they worked desperately to restart his heart. Each arch of his back from the shocks sent an inhumane cry from me. Without Simon’s hold, I would’ve collapsed there like the fragmented pieces of my necklace all those months ago.
Clearing my throat, I whisked that to the back of my mind, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest. It was just us in here, Simon having excused himself to check on Matt and Levander a few rooms down the hall.
Levander had a gunshot wound to the thigh, but it was nothing a few stitches couldn’t fix.
The bullet had missed any major arteries.
While Matt didn’t have any wounds, he remained beside the Mafia king until he was placed in good hands.
Once reassured he’d be okay, Matt stayed by me the entire evening, his tears muddying mine as the ramifications of just how bad Thorne had been struggling sank in.
Blowing out a shuddered exhale, I brought Thorne’s hand to my cheek, nuzzling it softly. The touch alone had my eyes watering, and I shut them to stop myself from crying again.
“God…” Biting my trembling lip, I nestled further into that caress. “God, I’m so fucking sorry for everything. You… You’re the best thing to ever happen to me… and… and I…”
Pausing, I swallowed the lump forming. Mouth dry from lack of hydration, I peeled my tongue from the roof of my mouth. Ignoring the building need for fluids, I continued.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve… should’ve noticed that man. I had the chance to kill him, and now… now you’re hurt, and it’s my fault. My fault for a lot of things—”
A soft groan rolled from him, cutting off my utterance. His fingers flexed around my hand as he stirred slightly, lids twitching as he started coming to.
“H-Hey,” I shouted, chair scooting as I stood. “He’s waking up!” Maintaining my grip, I fumbled for the device next to his bed and pressed the call button furiously. “Take it slow.”
Thorne’s brows furrowed as he slowly opened his eyes, and their usual caramel hue dimmed slightly. Focusing on me, a lazy smile painted his lips as he spoke, his voice rasped from lack of use. “Hey.”
Releasing his hand, my fingers threaded through his hair, gently pushing strands back. My vision blurred, and my breath hitched as I tried to mirror his expression.
“You… You should take it easy. Nurse should be here soon.”
As if he didn’t hear a word I said, his elbow sank into the hospital bed as he pushed himself back in an attempt to sit upright. Grunting, his facial features scrunched with the influx of pain as he blew out a sharp, hissed breath between clenched teeth.
“What are you doing?” Pressing my palms against his shoulders, I halted his movement. “Baby, stop!”
“I-I’m… fine,” he muttered, as he slumped with a satisfied exhale against the slightly elevated mattress.
“And I’m straight,” I snapped, harsher than I meant to as my hands cradled his face. Bringing my gaze to his, I leaned closer. “Stitches. You’ll… You’ll open them if you keep moving.”
“I’m very familiar with stitches, Oren Graves.” Craning his head to glance over at me now that he was seated, he lifted his brows with a snarky expression as if to say, “I told you so.”
“So am I, Thorne Graves,” I breathed, unable to keep the waver from my tone as I memorized that honeyed color I thought I would never get to see again. “Are… Are you really…”
Striations danced across his jaw as he adjusted himself one final time. “Am I really what?”
Pressing my forehead against his, wetness trickled, slipping over my lips as I swiped it away with my tongue. “Breathing. You’re breathing.”
“I mean, I hope so; otherwise this whole… waking up thing would be rather weird,” he chuckled, a groan of anguish mixing with his laughter.
I tried to mimic his joy, but it faltered on a sob, my arms carefully wrapping around his shoulders. “I tried to pump your lungs, but it didn’t work. I’m… I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I know you did…” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of my head. “I still… I could still feel you.”
Clinging to him tighter, I basked in the simplicity of his chest rising and the warmth of him. “How… You… You did?”
“Not a damn idea.” His lips brushed my ear. “But I did.”
“You… You fought really hard.” Playing with the ends of his hair, I breathed in that familiar scent of pine.
“For you… I fought for you.”
A broken cry billowed, and I nodded against him. “Me too. Always.”
Hot breath brushing over my skin, he mirrored the word I’d offered, the word that’d become ours. “Always.”
Opening my mouth to respond, I heard the door crack into the wall, two male voices mingling.
“Look. Not my fault, the vending machine got stuck on your dollar.” Simon munched on a bag of Doritos, dangling it in front of a very pissed Matt.
“You fucking jammed it!”
“Jammed it? How the fuck would I control it? And who the fuck picks Almond Joys? Machine probably rejected your terrible—”
Clearing my throat, I settled on the edge of the cot. “If you want to act like pussies, get the fuck out, or be respectful.”
Both males turned, and at the sight of Thorne, Simon dropped his prize, chips scattering across the floor. “Holy shit,” he breathed, an illuminated smile gracing his features.
Matt covered his mouth with his palm, a mixture between a laugh and a cry tumbling. “F-Fuck man…”
“Well, good morning to you both.” Thorne pushed himself back even further until he was practically sitting upright. “I believe… we have a mission to carry out.”
“We sure do,” Matt answered, swiping over his eyes with the back of his hand. “But you’ll stay here. Rest.”
Simon nodded. “We’ve got it covered, buddy.”
“Absolutely not.” Thorne’s snarl reverberated along the walls of the small room. “Get me the nurse. I’m making them discharge me.”
“Discharge?” I blurted, snapping my attention to him. “Baby, you need rest!”
Simon shut the door with a light kick. “You’re not okay, dude. We can do this, I promise.”
Moving his gaze from me to Simon, Thorne’s tone sharpened. “That wasn’t an ask, it was a command. Get me a fucking nurse.”
“Are… Are you sure?” I asked.
Before Thorne could respond, Simon and Matt’s gazes locked onto me as if I were insane. “Seriously?” They said in unison, eyes widening.
“Does he need rest? Yes. But do you really think you’ll win this battle? If he wants to go, then I’ll back him up.”
With his gaze trained on them, Thorne lifted a hand and gestured toward the door. “One of you. A nurse. Or so help me, I’ll fucking do it myself.”
Begrudgingly, Simon curled his hand around the handle, a slew of curses leaving him before he exited. Matt slowly made his way to the chair and plopped down.
“Aneurysm. You’ll give me a fucking aneurysm.”
“Then have an aneurysm,” Thorne grumbled. “I am not staying in this fucking bed while the lot of you step into that compound.”
Matt glared at him from beneath his brows. “I mean, I can’t stop you, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”
Running my fingers over his arm, I sighed. “You just have to be stubborn, don’t you?”
“I’m not being stubborn; I’m adhering to a promise. I swore to Liam that he would never land back in that hellhole, and I failed to ensure that.” He winced slightly, his throat bobbing before he continued. “I-I refuse to fail him again. I can’t fail him again…”
Squeezing where I brushed over, I nodded. “I understand. It’s been difficult dealing with it, hasn’t it? I mean… him getting taken after you promised him you’d protect him isn’t an easy pill to swallow, and you’ve done that all alone—”
“Thorne Graves? You requested me?” A flowery voice murmured, preceded by a very upset Simon.
“Your terrible decision in the flesh.”
Passing her a soft smile, Thorne spoke. “I need to be discharged.”
She laughed, placing a hand on her chest. “Oh, that’s a good joke.”
“It’s not a fucking joke.” His shift in tone threw her off guard, her face paling. “Get me a goddamn discharge.”
“Mr. Graves, I strongly recommend—”
“And I strongly recommend you get me a fucking discharge. I would hate to have to make you do so. So, be a doll, and get it done. I’ve lost enough time as it is.”
Matt hid his chuckle with a cough, but it was me who whistled. “Fuck. I’m hard.”
“Jesus, Oren. Can’t you go one minute without a cock joke?”
“Aw, not my fault yours is tiny.”
It was the nurse’s turn to stutter, interlocking her fingers as she stepped back. “I-I’ll take care of it, Mr. Graves.”
“You have ten minutes before I get out of this bed and come find you myself.”
As if a gun were pointed at her head, she scurried off, the door slamming with her exit. While Matt and Simon resumed their chip debacle, I leaned into the man who held my heart completely.
“You might be stubborn, but I’ve got your back. Always.”
Craning to look at me, he planted a soft kiss against my forehead. “We’ll see if you regret this decision, Oren Graves. Because if you think I’m stepping into that compound with any intention of taking it easy, then you’re sorely mistaken.”
“You? Take the easy route? You wouldn’t be my fiancé if you did.” Snuggling into the crook of his side, I relished the few moments before we descended into madness.
It was finally time to get Liam back.