Chapter 29 Lyric
LYRIC
ONE MONTH LATER…
“How’s she doin’?”
I scrub my hands over my face, exhausted beyond belief, before lifting my head to look at Zombie.
Mellie has been in a medically induced coma for thirty days in an effort to reduce the swelling from the beating she endured, and I haven’t left her side.
My VP has been running things with the Kings, knowing there’s nothing that will get me to walk away from her.
“Doctor was in a while ago,” I tell him. “Said he wants to try to wake her up today.”
Zombie grunts. This won’t be the first time I’ve heard this from a physician. I’ve about given up on medical professionals as a whole, but I’ll never give up on Mellie. As long as her heart beats, I’ll be here.
“Here, Savvy sent some food for you.” He sets a bag on the table in front of me. “Also wanted me to remind you that her offer to come sit with Mellie still stands if you need a break.”
“I’m fine.” I snatch the bag and peer inside. “Shit, that smells good.”
“It’s her homemade beef stew and some fresh bread,” he says.
My mouth waters as I pull out the warm container of food. “Where’s the spoon?” I ask after emptying the bag.
“Oh, right.” Zombie pulls a sandwich baggie from his pocket. “Forgot she shoved this in there as I was leaving.”
I take the utensils from him and dig into the meal. In a matter of minutes, I’ve scarfed it all down, and I rise to throw away the trash. Rather than returning to the table, I sit on the edge of Mellie’s bed.
She’s wearing her own pajamas, and the quilt is the one she loves from the spare room back home. There are pictures scattered around the private room in the ICU wing of the hospital, as well as anything else we could think of to make her surroundings comfortable.
Not that she even knows.
“Hey, baby,” I whisper, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Z came to see you.”
“Hi, sweet cheeks,” he greets, laughing when I glare at him. “What?”
“I told you to stop calling her that,” I growl, but there’s no heat in my tone.
“And I told you I’d stop when she wakes up.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” I tell him. “So, how are things at home?”
“They’re fine.” Zombie shrugs. “I promise I’ll tell you if there’s trouble.”
“Shadow Sixes still quiet?”
“Jesus, you just can’t let it go, can you?”
“No,” I snap. “I can’t let it go because if I do, then I’ll be forced to think about the fact that the love of my life might never wake up.
I’ll obsess over whether or not she’ll remember me if she does wake up.
So, no, I’m not going to let it go or stop asking or any other stupid shit you think I should do. ”
My chest heaves, my heart beats furiously, and my eyes fill with tears. I’ve had a lot of alone time here in this little room, and I’ve shed enough tears to fill a large aquarium. I’m so damn tired of crying, tired of being afraid, tired of the waiting and wondering and worrying.
“Damn, brother,” Zombie says with a sigh. “I’m sorry. Wasn’t trying to upset you.”
Huffing out a breath, I roll my eyes. “Doesn’t take much these days.”
“Do you really think she’ll forget you again?” he asks after a few silent minutes.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s gotta be, what, a once in a lifetime thing, right? Surely, it can’t happen again.”
“I’ve learned not to rule anything out as possible,” I say honestly.
“Well, I can ease your mind about one thing,” he says, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the bed.
“Shadow Sixes are not only quiet, they’re non-existent.
Whoever remained after we took out Cray Cray was given a choice: either prospect for Kings of Anarchy or die.
Needless to say, we’ve got a lot of new blood in the club. ”
“Did any of them choose death?”
“Surprisingly, yeah, a few. Their loyalty ran too deep for them to even consider becoming a King.”
“I bet Undertaker had a field day with the bodies,” I joke.
“Fucking hell, Lyric, you shoulda seen him,” he responds. “Like a kid on Christmas morning.”
“Anything else I need to know?” I ask.
He sighs, no doubt annoyed by my persistence, but he’s saved from responding when the doctor walks in.
“There’s been no change, Doc,” I say dryly, rising to my feet.
“Actually, there’s been a big change,” he states. “Her vitals have been stable long enough that we’re going to wake her up.”
“Are you sure she’s ready? What if it doesn’t work? What if her brain swells? What if her amnesia is back? What if—”
“Lyric, man, breathe,” Zombie encourages.
The doctor smiles. “I understand your concerns, and I assure you, I wouldn’t proceed if I weren’t confident that she’s one hundred percent ready.”
My shoulders slump. “Right, okay.”
“As for the amnesia,” he says with a shrug. “I can’t predict that. I wish I could ease that worry for you, but it simply isn’t possible. What I can tell you is that she recovered her memories once, and she can do it again.”
Zombie walks around the bed and stands next to me. “How does this work, Doc?” he asks.
“As I explained to Mr. Jenkins earlier, we’ll gradually reduce the sedation medication she’s receiving through the IV while monitoring her very closely.
I will be here the entire time, along with a full critical care team.
If anything happens, there won’t be a delay in response.
” He shifts his gaze from Zombie to me. “Now, I need you to be prepared for Mellie to be confused as she wakes up. That’s to be expected and completely normal.
Confusion isn’t indicative of amnesia, so don’t panic.
If you panic, she’ll panic, and we can’t have that. ”
I nod absently.
“He won’t panic, Doc,” Zombie assures him when I don’t speak. “You take care of Mellie, and I’ll take care of him.”
Twenty minutes later, Zombie and I are ushered to the opposite side of the room, so the team has enough space to work.
“It’s gonna be okay,” my best friend says as he leans against the wall next to me, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ll see.”
“Okay, we’re going to initiate the first reduction of sedation medication,” the doctor says, and I don’t know if it’s for our benefit or if that’s just how things work.
It takes several hours for them to cease the sedation completely, and when they’re done, Mellie still isn’t awake. The doctor waves me over and nods at her.
“We’re seeing eye movement,” he explains. “That’s a good sign. It can take a while for her body to be completely free of the sedation, especially since it’s been a month, so it can take several days for her to wake fully.”
I stare at her closed eyelids, savoring the rapid back and forth movement. She’s alive, and I have to focus on that.
“I’ll be in and out regularly to check on her, as will other members of the team.”
“Is there anything I should be watching for?” I ask.
“Any signs of distress,” he replies. “The monitors will alert us, but you know her better than anyone and might be able to pick up on subtle clues that can give us a little heads up if something is wrong.” He reaches into his white coat and pulls out a card.
“I know I’ve given this to you before, but I wrote my personal cell number on it just in case you need anything. ”
“Thank you,” I say, taking the offered card. “I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“You can thank me when you get my bill,” he replies with a chuckle.
Not to mention the money the club spent to ensure your full focus is on Mellie and Mellie alone.
Zombie and I are left alone with Mellie, and I return to the side of the bed to sit next to her. I’m careful not to disturb any of the wires connected to machines and monitors, but I have to be close to her.
A few hours later, Zombie returns to the clubhouse, and Mellie still doesn’t wake. She doesn’t wake on the second or third days, either.
But on the fourth day, something happens. Her eyelids flutter, and I see her beautiful eyes for the first time in thirty-four fucking days.
“What happened?” she croaks, her voice hoarse from lack of use.
My stomach drops at the confusion in her tone. I remind myself of the doctor’s warning, but it does nothing to reassure me.
“Lyric,” Mellie says as she slides her hand to mine. “What’s wrong?”
I prop up on my elbow to stare down at her. “What did you just say?”
“Drink,” she says. “Then talk.”
I grab the bottle of water I set on the side table and unscrew the cap. Holding it to her lips, I help her sip the liquid slowly.
“So good,” she says with a sigh. “Now, Heath Jenkins, tell me what’s wrong.”
I cup her cheeks and press a kiss to her chapped lips.
“Not a damn thing,” I whisper when I pull back. “Not a goddamn thing in the world is wrong.”