Chapter Eight
Knight
I stared at the wall-mounted monitor, the numbers flashing in harsh red sending a chill down my spine despite the overheated hospital room.
Brynn had gotten sick all of a sudden this time.
She’d been so weak when we got her here, she went pale when she stood up.
Goddamned kid refused to lean on anyone on her way inside, though.
She stuck her shoulders back proudly and presented herself to the ER.
Of course, me and Lavender had been hot on her heels.
Turned out, Brynn’s blood pressure had ticked upward, though the medicine they had her on held it steady for the moment.
We were now three weeks into my donor testing, and her condition had taken a nosedive.
Dr. Patel’s carefully composed expression couldn’t hide the gravity of the situation.
“Mr. Leahy,” Dr. Patel said, her tablet clutched against her chest like a shield, “we need to accelerate your donor evaluation process.” Her gaze flicked between me and Lavender, who sat rigid in the metal visitor’s chair, knuckles bleached white where she gripped the edge.
“Brynn’s facial edema has worsened significantly since yesterday, and these numbers…
” She gestured toward the monitor with her pen.
“What does that mean exactly?” My voice came out rougher than I intended. The phlebotomist prepping my arm for yet another blood draw paused, needle hovering.
Dr. Patel’s professional mask slipped just enough to reveal genuine concern.
“It means her kidneys are failing faster than we anticipated. The good news is that you’ve passed all big compatibility tests with flying colors.
If we push the remaining evaluations through on an emergency schedule, we might complete everything in time to spare Brynn from dialysis. ”
I nodded, feeling the pinch as the needle slid into my arm. Another bruise to join the collection of purple-yellow marks trailing up my tattooed skin. I’d lost count of how many times they’d stuck me today alone.
“Whatever you need to do,” I said, keeping my voice steady for Lavender’s benefit. “However fast we can make this happen.”
Lavender made a small sound of distress.
She sounded like she might shatter if she fully exhaled.
The fluorescent lights overhead cast shadows beneath her eyes, highlighting the exhaustion etched into every line of her face.
This last three-day stretch at the hospital had drained her more than the previous weeks at the compound combined.
“They’re waiting to get started on this right now,” the phlebotomist said, her eyes carefully avoiding my gaze. I knew my appearance made some people nervous.
“The psychological evaluation will be this afternoon instead of next week,” she explained. “We’ve already called in the transplant surgeon for an expedited consultation. With luck, we could have you cleared within days rather than weeks.”
“And then?” Lavender asked, her voice thin and stretched. “How long until the actual surgery?”
Dr. Patel’s eyes softened. “Once cleared, we’d schedule surgery immediately. Brynn’s condition demands it.”
The steady beeping of machines filled the silence that followed.
From the adjacent room, I could hear the muted sounds of medical staff, the squeak of shoes on polished floors, and whispered consultations.
The hospital had become as familiar as my own apartment yet remained aggressively alien. I fucking hated this place.
“Is there anything else I should be doing?” I asked Dr. Patel. “Anything that might make the process easier for everyone?”
“You’re doing everything right, Mr. Leahy,” Dr. Patel assured me, signing something on the tablet.
“Staying hydrated is the most important thing. That and being available for any additional tests we might need to run on short notice. Also, don’t take any kind of blood thinner.
Aspirin. Ibuprofen. Don’t take either of those until I give you the all-clear. ”
“I understand,” I said softly. “And we’re staying here in Cincinnati.”
Lavender finally released her death grip on the chair, reaching instead for my free hand. Her fingers were ice-cold against my skin, and I squeezed gently, willing some warmth into her.
“Almost done here,” the phlebotomist murmured, withdrawing the needle and pressing a cotton ball against the puncture. “You’re a good bleeder.” She meant it as a compliment, I supposed.
“Lots of practice,” I replied, holding out my other arm where there was a myriad of bruises in varying colors. The comment earned me a startled half-smile before she busied herself labeling the vials of my blood.
Dr. Patel consulted the tablet again. “If you could come with me to radiology next, Mr. Leahy, we’re going to get started on the imaging.
” She addressed Lavender next. “Brynn won’t be back from her imaging for at least another hour.
We won’t be that long. You can come if you want, but you won’t be allowed back in the radiology area for safety reasons.
So you’d be sitting in the lobby.” She gave Lavender a caring smile.
“You’ll be much more comfortable waiting here.
There’s nothing we’re going to learn immediately.
I’ll have to review the scans with the radiologist and my team, then I’ll know more. ”
“Very well.” She sounded like she’d checked out. Lavender had to be at her limit. I didn’t think she could handle much more without a break.
“Honey.” I rested my other hand over hers while she still had a death grip on my hand. “Do you want me to get Ada to come stay with you while I’m gone?”
She met my gaze and gave me a small smile. “No. I’ll be fine. I’ll rest while the two of you are gone. Yeah?”
“Good.” I leaned in and gave her a soft kiss. “Everything will be OK. We’re going to do everything we can.”
“I know. Thank you, Rhys.”
I kissed her again. “I’m just glad I’m here now. I swear I’m not going anywhere.” I stood and followed Dr. Patel out of the room and down the hall.
“The psychological evaluation might… test your patience,” Dr. Patel said quietly as we waited for an elevator.
“They’ll ask about your criminal history, your current lifestyle.
Be completely honest. Your infectious disease panel came back negative and your kidneys seem to be working perfectly, but they need to know of any potential problems we might face so your answers are very important. ”
“I understand,” I replied. The elevator arrived with a soft chime, and we stepped inside. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Except maybe how fucking terrified I was that we wouldn’t make it in time. That my kidney wouldn’t be enough. That I’d failed Brynn for eleven years only to fail her again when it mattered most.
* * *
I dragged my ass back to Brynn’s room, my body one massive ache from the final round of tests.
Four hours of being poked, scanned, questioned, and evaluated had left me hollow, like someone had scraped out my insides with a dull spoon.
Not to mention lying perfectly still and not breathing only works for so long until you pass out and breathe whether you want to or not.
The psych evaluation had been particularly brutal -- digging through my criminal past, my time in Terre Haute, my life with the club.
All I wanted was to check on Brynn, then find the nearest horizontal surface and pass the fuck out.
Instead, I walked into a different kind of pain entirely.
Lavender sat alone in the dimly lit room, her back to the door, shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she scrolled through photos on her phone.
For a moment, I froze in the doorway. The absence of Brynn’s small form in the hospital bed registered dimly -- she still had another thirty minutes or so before I expected her back -- but the sight of Lavender, so completely broken, knocked the wind from my lungs.
She hadn’t heard me enter. Her fingers trembled as they swiped across the screen, each new image bringing fresh tears. From my angle, I could see birthday candles, a gap-toothed smile, a school play costume with cardboard wings. Moments of Brynn’s life Lavender had saved to remember.
“Lavender,” I said, my voice coming out barely above a whisper.
She startled, nearly dropping the phone as she swiped at her eyes. “Knight, I didn’t hear --” Her voice broke, and she shook her head, unable to maintain the pretense of being OK. Those hazel eyes, swimming with tears, hit me like a physical blow.
I didn’t hesitate. Crossing the room in three strides, I dropped to my knees in front of her chair, ignoring the protest from my aching body. I wrapped my arms around her waist and she collapsed against me, her forehead pressed to my shoulder as sobs wracked her slight form.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped between breaths. “I’m s-supposed to be s-stronger than this.”
“Fuck that,” I murmured against her hair. “You’ve been strong enough for both of you for eleven years.”
I shifted us until my back was against the wall, Lavender half in my lap, my arms tight around her. Her phone lay forgotten on the floor beside us, screen still illuminated with a photo of a younger Brynn blowing out birthday candles, seven or eight maybe, her blue eyes wide with delight.
“That was her ninth birthday,” Lavender said, following my gaze. “We couldn’t afford much, but she wanted a science-themed party. I made that volcano cake myself.” A watery laugh escaped her. “It looked like crap, but she loved it.”
I reached for the phone, cradling it carefully as I looked at the image of my daughter, happy and glowing with life. My throat constricted as I swiped to the next photo. Brynn in a classroom, proudly holding up what looked like a science fair trophy.