Chapter 52
FIFTY-TWO
SUMMER
My body racks with tortured guilt and torment, and my hands fist the hospital sheet into a ball with each agonizing sob.
It’s my fault.
It’s all my fault.
If I hadn’t insisted on Mase listening to me at that very moment, it never would have given Gareth the opportunity to emerge from the bedroom. Granted, I wasn’t aware he was there, but still, it’s all my fault.
Five bullets sliced through his back, each one requiring removal. They placed him in a medically induced coma, and now, slowly, they’re trying to bring him to, but he’s yet to wake.
I’m just grateful he’s off most of the machines, even if waiting is torture.
Each day is like a new hell. Hoping and praying for progress but finding none.
I’ve refused hospital treatment. Refused to leave his bedside. It’s been nine days, and the pain of him simply lying there, bleeding out in my arms, doesn’t get any easier. The guilt doesn’t lessen.
When he wakes, he’ll hate me.
I know he will.
I murdered his father in cold blood. Hell, I did it with a smile on my face, thinking I was ending my torture. Now this is my penance, to see the man I love fighting for his life.
“Summer? Why don’t we grab something to eat, hun? The babies need some nourishment. Mase is going to be asking about you all as soon as he wakes up.”
I want to tell her Mase won’t be asking about me when he wakes. That he’ll want the babies, but he won’t want me. Why would he? Nobody else ever has. I killed his father; I’m probably going to prison.
“Summer?”
As I sob harder, Ava moves around the bed.
“Listen, sweetie.”
I lift my head to face her.
“He’s fighting right now to come back to you, and he expects you to take good care of your babies for him, because he can’t.” She stares at me pointedly, then pushes a plate with a sandwich toward me. “Now, make sure his babies are healthy, like he wants them. Don’t disappoint him.”
Ava’s taken on the role of caring for me. Possibly due to closeness in age, she feels like an older sister, one I’m eternally grateful for.
Her words hit me, and as much as I’m not hungry, I lift the sandwich to my mouth, grimacing at the scent of the cheese.
“Eat every fucking mouthful.” The raspy growl emits from Mase’s throat, and I turn to face him.
A low, strangled whine causes me to choke, and when he lifts his hand to rest his palm against my cheek, I cry tears of joy.
Streams of tears flood my face while I full-on shake, and a team of doctors rushes into the room.
“Eat,” he repeats. “I need my girl healthy.” His words fill me with hope.
“You’re mine, Sum,” he mumbles, and his words settle the raging storm inside me.
“I need you and my babies.” A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, and I’m forced to move from his side and watch the doctors assess him.
As my ass finds the chair in the corner of the room, I lift the plate toward my mouth and start eating the sandwich, determined to make Mase proud.
“Shall I get you checked in to be looked over now?” Ava asks with a soft smile.
I lift up on my seat to watch over her shoulder, and Mase is staring back at me with narrowed eyes. “I think that’s a good idea,” I whisper, and she gifts me with a wink that has my chest warming with comfort.
Maybe everything is going to be okay after all.