Chapter Twenty-Two
brAY
SHE’S CRYING. I can feel her body heave with sobs.
She’s telling me about her brother, begging me to wake up.
I’m trying to tell her that I am awake. My eyes are flickering open, adjusting to the brightness of the lights above me.
This is the most alert and aware I have ever been.
I’m not about to let the darkness pull me back under.
Reilly is telling me how broken she is, how much she needs me to wake up. Why can’t I wake up? I’m trying to get my body to move anything. My fingers, I can feel them slightly move. What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck happened? And, why the fuck is Reilly sobbing right now?
I should be able to comfort her. I hate that she’s upset and I can't do a damn thing to help her. It’s my job to help her, to be her shoulder to cry on. I promised her I was going to be the best fucking boyfriend that ever existed and right now, I’m failing her.
I put everything into making my fingers move; they curl the slightest bit and I feel her body stiffen. Just look up, baby, just look up and you will see that I’m here. I’m awake. You told me to wake up and I listened. Just fucking look up already.
My brain is telling my mouth to speak. I can feel the words on the tip of my tongue, yet I’m getting nothing. What the fuck? I want to scream. I want to hit something, anything. Reilly, all I want to say is Reilly. Why the fuck can’t I say the one name I fucking love so much?
After a few minutes of trying, I finally make a noise. I wouldn’t call it talking, but it’s noise and it gets her attention. Like lightening, she jumps off the bed and looks down. Her eyes widen and she starts speaking but I can’t actually make out what she says. She’s going too fast.
She’s panicked. I curl my fingers. I try as hard as I can to squeeze her hand.
She looks back down at me and seems to settle.
Reaching over, she presses something behind my head.
I just stare and watch. She’s so fucking beautiful to look at, why wouldn’t I stare?
She doesn’t look as vibrant as I remember; she’s thinner, paler.
She has black rings under her eyes, red puffy eyes, because she’s been crying.
My thoughts are interrupted when someone comes barging into the room.
“What the hell…” Whoever this is, she stops for a second. It takes her no longer than a minute to recompose herself.
“Mr. Williamson, it’s good to see you awake.” She looks me over from head to toe.
I watch Reilly as she watches what must be a nurse pick up the phone. The nurse hangs up the call then pats Reilly on the arm. “You’ve given your wife quite the scare, Mr. Williamson,” she says to me and looks over at Reilly.
Mrs. Williamson, who the fuck is Mrs. Williamson?
Surely if I married Reilly that would not be something I’d forget.
I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to being married to her.
In fact, if we are married, I’d make her marry me again so I can remember that shit.
What else am I forgetting if I don’t remember an important event like that?
Reilly still looks sad. Why is she still so sad?
She excuses herself to the nurse, and says something about calling my brother.
Zac, where is he? How long have I been asleep for?
Reilly starts walking out of the room. I watch her the whole way.
The moment she shuts the door and I can’t see her anymore, I start to panic.
I need her to come back. I need her to be here.
I can’t even fucking move. Why’d she walk out? Is she coming back?
The door opens, and I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief that she’s back.
It’s not her; it’s a heap of fuckers whom I don’t know.
Why would she leave me in here with all these people?
The beeping starts to get louder and faster.
I can feel my heartbeat match the sounds of the machine.
I don’t want to be here. Get me the fuck out of here.
Reilly comes running back into the room; she pushes her way through the people. People I'm cataloguing to kick their asses for blocking my girl’s way. If I could get out of this bed, they would not be standing in her fucking way.
When she makes it to my side, she picks up my hand.
I have to turn my head in the other direction, which, by some small miracle, it turns slightly and my eyes are focused back onto hers.
I don’t dare lose that eye contact. I don’t want her to leave again.
I can feel my heart start to calm. It’s because she’s here; she’s my calm, my person. I fucking need her to stay here.
I listen as the doctors talk to her about me. They run a heap of tests. One of the fuckers brings a fucking torch to my eyes, and wants me to follow their movements like I’m going to stop looking at Reilly. When I don’t move my eyes, Reilly’s eyebrows draw down.
“Bray, you have to listen. You need to try, please. Just do what the doctors say. You can do this. Follow the light with your eyes, Bray.” Her voice becomes determined, demanding even. I don’t want to take my eyes off her, but I also don’t want to let her down any more than I have.
I follow the light. As much as it pains me, as much as it causes my head to thump like the hangover of all mother fucking hangovers, I grit down and do it.
Just as the doctor’s finishing up with the light, the door bursts open and in comes Zac in true Zac form.
Demanding, arrogant and fucking assholish.
I wouldn’t have it any other way. I smile, or at least I think I do. Reilly gasps.
“He smiled. That’s good, right?” she asks the doctors. “That’s a very good sign, Mrs. Williamson,” the doctor says.
There it is again, Mrs. Williamson. If everyone is calling her that, I must have fucking married her. Now, that thought brings a smile to my head. I look at her, ignoring the ruckus that Zac is causing by firing his million questions off to the doctor.
The excitement I see shining in her eyes when I manage to smile up at her gives me a deeper sense of calmness, that everything is going to be okay. That we are going to be okay. I just need to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me and get my body on board with doing what it’s supposed to do.
“Why isn’t he fucking talking?” Zac growls at the doctor. I turn to watch, trying to focus on what they are talking about. Maybe someone can tell me what the fuck’s going on.
“He just woke up from a two-month coma, Mr. Williamson. These things take time. He has shown positive responses to all the tests so far. We need to take him down for another MRI, but everything so far is looking good.” The doctor talks directly to Zac, like I’m not in the fucking room.
Reilly must notice my agitated state, though I’m not sure how because I can’t fucking move or say anything at the moment. She squeezes my hand and I flick my eyes back to her.
“Bray, do you… do you remember me? Do you know who I am?” she asks, in the softest almost a whisper of a voice.
I catch the croak of her voice; I can feel the fear coming off her, the shake in her hands. Why the fuck would she think I don’t remember her? She’s not someone anybody would forget.
“Bray, don’t speak, okay? Just blink once for yes, twice for no,” she says.
I blink once and stare into her eyes. She breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God. I thought for a moment maybe you forgot just how freaking awesome I am.” She smiles down at me.
I want nothing more than to pull her down and kiss her right now, except I can't. I can't do anything. I want a taste of those lips so fucking bad. I stare at them, so fucking plump and delicious. Reilly laughs; it’s probably corny as fuck but it’s the most beautiful, welcoming sound right now.
She slowly leans down, places her head next to mine and whispers in my ear, “Even though you just woke up, and you might not be able to talk with words, I can still see what you’re thinking right now.
Those thoughts should not be thought in a room full of doctors, not to mention your brother. ” She gently places her lips over mine.
I’m in heaven. I just need her to keep those lips on mine.
She doesn’t; she pulls back after giving me the gentlest kiss, like she’s scared she’ll break me or something.
I want more. I need more. Reilly laughs and shakes her head.
“Rye…” I manage to get out a few sounds.
I almost just said her whole name. The whole room goes silent, all eyes on me.
I’m only looking at one pair of eyes, the ones that belong to the other half of my soul.
Her eyes start glistening. Fuck, I’ve gone and made her fucking cry again.
“Bray, thank fuck. I knew you’d be back with us.
I knew you would wake up,” Zac says as he leans down to my ear.
“Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again, fucker,” he not so quietly says.
As he straightens back up, he grabs my wrist and squeezes.
“I think you actually gave me grey hairs for real this time, Braydon. I’m sending all future hair dye expenses to you because I will not be grey before I’m fifty. ”
I roll my eyes at him. He’s been telling me I’ll send him grey since I was sixteen. Luckily for us, we were blessed with good hair genes. My dad was in his mid-fifties when he died, and was only just starting to show signs of greys.
“Za…” I try again to speak. I know what I need to say. My brain is working just fucking fine. Why the fuck isn’t my mouth? My throat feels dry, like the Sahara Desert. Water, water would be really bloody good right now.
“Bray, don’t try to talk yet. It’s okay, man. Trust me, we can wait,” Zac says.
“Wa… t… r.” I think I manage to get the whole damn word out.
“Water, he needs water… of course he needs water. Why didn’t I think of that? He can have water, right?” Reilly lets go of my hand, causing my eyes to search her out. Where is she going? I need her to stay here. I follow her movements; she goes over to the table, where a jug and cup are sitting.
“He can have a couple of small sips; too much and it will make him sick. Very small sips,” one of the doctors responds.
I keep my eyes on Reilly, watching her pour a cup of water, place a straw in the cup and bring it back to me.
She puts the straw to my lips. I try to follow the doctor’s directions and only take a small sip.
Just that small bit of water feels like fucking heaven.
Reilly takes the cup away before I can get any more.
She places it down on the table next to the bed.
“Wha…” I want to ask what happened. She grabs my hand again, and I feel myself relax into her touch.
I turn my eyes to look at Zac, who is watching Reilly with an odd kind of fondness.
How long was I fucking asleep for? Did I wake up in the Twilight Zone?
Zac does not like anybody other than Alyssa and Ella. He barely tolerates me on most days.
I search his eyes for answers. I’m usually pretty good at reading him, just as he is with me.
I try to ask again what the fuck happened.
“Wha… t?” I get the one word out, eventually.
This shit is frustrating as hell. I can hear the monitors’ beeping increasing.
I can feel myself getting worked up. I’m used to the feeling.
I usually relish it, use it as an outlet when I'm training or fighting. Except I can’t do either of those right now. I can’t fucking move.
“Bray, you were shot. Do you remember?” Zac asks.
I was fucking shot? What cocksucker fucking shot me? A soon to be dead one, when I can get out of this bed. I don’t remember getting shot. I can remember flying home from Hawaii. I can remember sleeping at Reilly’s house and waking up to her mum’s cooked breakfast. After that, I'm drawing a blank.
“N… n… o,” I reply.
“You were shot in the abdomen. Nowhere near your fucking head, mind you. Yet you’ve been in a coma for fifty-nine days.
Fifty-nine days, asshole,” Zac growls. Fuck, I was out for fifty-nine days?
No wonder Reilly was sobbing when I came to.
Has she been waiting here that whole time?
Why didn’t someone look after her? Help her?
The thought of her sitting by my bed, day in and day out, both pisses me off and makes me happy as fuck that she’s mine. She’s the most loyal girl you’ll ever meet, and she’s fucking mine.