Chapter 28 Kane
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kane
“I’m not riding in a fucking wheelchair,” I half-growl.
“I’m pretty sure you have to,” Wyatt says with a grimace.
His hands are on the back of the damn wheelchair. His eyes are begging me to just sit in it so we can get the fuck out of here.
Some of the meds they gave me are still on board, but I feel a lot more like myself than I did a few hours ago. That also means I’m feeling more of the pain that’s radiating through my whole body.
Luckily, the guys brought some sweats and tennis shoes for me to wear. Getting them on was hard enough.
Just thinking about sliding back into my jeans and motorcycle jacket makes me cringe. They’re probably torn to shit, too, so…
“Just enjoy the princess treatment for once,” Linc says. He sends a smirk in my direction from where he’s leaning casually against the wall with one foot crossed over the other.
“What if I push you out?” Abby says, stepping into the room.
Yes!
“Fine,” I huff, slowly moving from the side of the bed to the wheelchair. I swear I feel more aches each time I move.
I guess that’s to be expected, since the accident only happened a handful of hours ago. The aches and pains will really set in tomorrow.
Wyatt and Linc both laugh like the assholes they are. I swear one of them makes a whipping noise, but I’m not going to dignify it with a reaction.
Abby leans over until her face is right next to mine. “You okay?”
She must have seen the pain lining my features when I moved.
I shrug because what am I supposed to say right now? I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt. It fucking does, but all things considered, I’m alright.
“Let’s get you out of here,” she says quietly. Her breath tickles my neck.
Shivers course through me, but they’re the good kind and not from the pain. I grasp onto that feeling, distracting myself from everything else.
The guys make more dumbass jokes as we walk through the brightly lit hallways and out to the sidewalk.
The sun is minutes away from dipping behind the mountains. The rest of the day slipped away while I was holed up inside.
Wyatt jogs across the parking lot and hops into his car. I want to roll my eyes because I really could walk across the parking lot. I’ll be walking around everywhere else, so this seems a little ridiculous.
I don’t press it, though, because Abby is right behind me. Her thumb is currently gliding over my good shoulder. The point of contact is small, but I never want it to end.
Wyatt brings the car to a stop right in front of us. “Your chariot awaits,” he says through the open passenger window.
Like I said… dumbass. I might be getting a little cranky from the pain and fatigue that’s setting in.
I don’t need her help, but Abby is right there while I climb into the passenger seat. I reach across my body and grab her hand.
“Thank you for taking care of me today. You’re a really good nurse.”
I might have been doped up on drugs while I was in there, but I could still tell she was damn good at her job. She’s wicked smart and genuinely cares about her patients.
“Thank you for being okay.” She shakes her head, clearing the emotion from her gaze. “I don’t know about the good at my job part, though. I’m not supposed to be cuddling in bed with my patients.”
“Just blame it on your unruly patient.”
Her smile is soft and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I give her hand a little squeeze. “You’re coming over when you get off, right?”
I try to keep a modicum of chill, but it’s not really working. As shitty as this day has been, I don’t want it to end because she’s been here at my side.
I like having her there. It feels like that’s where she’s supposed to be. It can’t be that way in any sense beyond friends, but it’s getting harder and harder to fight this when the connection feels too right.
She glances down at her watch. “I get off in less than an hour. I’ll be over after I run home and grab a few things.”
“We have things you can have.” If I can’t drag her with us right now, I want her there as soon as possible. Her going back to her house is unnecessary.
Wyatt laughs. He leans over closer to us. “Go get your stuff, and we will see you when you get there,” he tells her.
I turn to glare at him because what the fuck?
“Those drugs must still be doing something in there.” Wyatt laughs, tapping the side of my head closest to him.
My head flops back against the headrest.
“We’ll save some dinner for you,” Linc tells her from the back seat.
She tightens her hand, then backs away. “See you soon.” She looks right at me. “I promise.”
My bed shifts beside me, and my eyes reluctantly open. Wyatt helped me get set up in my room while Linc went to get Oliver from Cole’s house.
I’m pretty sure I passed out thirty seconds after my head hit my pillow.
I blink a few times, and Oliver comes into focus. He’s perched on the side of my bed.
“Hey, bud,” I say. Luckily, he’s sitting on my left side, so I can run my hand along his arm.
His eyes roam up and down my body. When his eyes settle back on mine, they’re filled with tears.
I know how scary this has to be for him. He lost his mom in a car accident. Hell, we almost lost him in the same accident.
“Oliver, come here,” I say, holding my arm out.
He shakes his head, eyes darting to my injured arm.
“You aren’t going to hurt me.” I motion up and down my left side. “This side is perfectly fine.”
It’s mostly the truth. The right side of my body took the brunt of the impact in the crash, but my whole body is sore.
I’m not about to tell him that, though. I need the comfort of him being in my arms just as much as he does.
He hesitates but eventually lies down beside me. Wrapping my arm around him, I pull him into my side. He snuggles his head against my chest, then looks up to make sure he isn’t hurting me.
“It will hurt worse if you leave,” I tell him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
He usually doesn’t like me doing things like this anymore, but right now he doesn’t seem to mind.
“I’m going to be okay, bud. My arm is broken, and I have a lot of bruises, but that’s it. I’m going to be just fine.”
He’s silent, but his body shakes against me. His sobs make tears well in my own eyes.
“I’m not going anywhere. Ever. I promise,” I say, trying to reassure myself as much as I am him.
We lie there in silence with him cradled against me. He cries for a long time, but eventually his breathing evens out as he falls asleep. I can’t seem to do the same now.
My body might be sore, but nothing hurts worse than seeing your kid hurting. It doesn’t matter if it’s physical or emotional pain. It all hits the same. If Oliver’s hurting, then I’m hurting.
My bedroom door creaks open. I expect it to be one of the guys, but I’m greeted with a pair of light brown eyes and a soft smile.
She’s no longer wearing her scrubs. She’s in a pair of joggers and a hoodie. Her hair is still wet from a shower, I’m guessing, and it’s piled on top of her head in a messy bun.
Her gaze softens even more as she takes in the image of Oliver cuddled beside me, fast asleep. “Hey,” she whispers, looking back up at me.
“Hey,” I whisper back, not wanting to wake Oliver.
She walks a little closer. “How are you feeling?”
I actually let my mind process what she’s asking. “It hurts.” I could lie and say I’m fine, but what good would that do?
I might own a bar and drive a motorcycle, but I’m not some macho guy who thinks I have to act tough all the time. My dad was always the perfect example of being strong through vulnerability and honesty.
“It’s time for meds, so that’s probably why it’s hurting more,” she says, holding up a bottle of pills from the pharmacy. Linc must have picked those up when he was out picking up Oliver.
I was so drained by the time we got back to the house that I was concerned about little else besides making my way to my bedroom and lying down.
She removes a pill from the bottle and sets it down on my nightstand. My hands are occupied at the moment, so I just open my mouth.
She smirks but silently sets the pill on my tongue. She positions the water bottle so it doesn’t hit Oliver.
I take a big enough drink to get the pill down. At this angle, it’s hard to do anything more than that.
“Do you need anything else?” she asks.
I look down at my son and back to her. “No, I’m good.”
She nods in understanding. She’s a mom. She gets it.
“Are you… staying?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah, Wyatt got the guest room set up for me.”
My heart swells, knowing she’s here in my house for the night. It’s not everything I want, but I’ll take it. “Good.”
“You get some sleep. I’ll come back to get you another pill in the middle of the night,” she says, backing toward the door.
I would normally tell her not to worry about it. I can get my own pills. But if Oliver is still asleep, I won’t want to wake him.
I nod, accepting her offer to help. “Good night, Abby.”
“’Night, Kane.”