Chapter Thirty-Six
TRISSA
I had no idea who it was calling me. If it was important, they could leave a message. I tapped the button sending it to voicemail.
“Are you going to answer that?” Peter asked from across the conference table.
I shook my head. “We’re almost done. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.”
Instead of seeing text flash across my screen with the written message of my voicemail, the same number popped up. And again I sent them to voicemail. If this was a fucking telemarketer, they sure were persistant.
My phone rang, the number flashing a third time, I picked up. “What do you want?”
“Is that anyway to talk to one of your oldest friends? It’s Jack.” His sarcasm was the last thing I needed today. My emotions were all over the freaking place after my confrontation with Peter and Killian.
I sighed. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know. I guess I thought you might care to know that Killian’s dying.” His wry tone rubbed at my already jagged nerves.
I was so done with the guys in my life being such jerks.
“That’s not funny, Jack.” Sometimes I hated him.
“Who said I was being funny?” The sharpness to his voice had me reconsidering his words.
“What happened?” I asked, still expecting him to tell me he was joking and just being a dick.
“You fucked with his heart one too many times. So he decided to help Judd again.”
My heart skittered to a stop. No. He promised he wouldn’t.
“The meeting went sideways. I barely made it out of there alive. Gunshots and all.”
“You’re lying.” He had to be.
Because the alternative was unthinkable.
“Am I? If you listen closely, you can hear the siren of the ambulance. We’re on our way to the hospital in Providence.”
Sure enough, when he stopped talking I could hear the sirens and the EMT’s in the background. I could barely understand their words.
“Killian!” I screamed. My voice sounded far away.
I stumbled and lost my footing. My knees hit the floor hard, but the pain was barely a blip on my radar.
All the breath rushed out of me.
My heart sped up so fast I thought it’d surely beat out of my chest. Memories of when the police arrived at my house to inform me of my parents’ death rushed forth from the dark corners of my mind. My vision grew fuzzy as pain and despair sizzled through every inch of me.
It couldn’t be true. Not Killian. There was too much we needed to say to each other. Our whole lives to live together.
Deep heaving sobs overtook me and my phone clattered to the ground.
Faintly, I heard Peter call my name, then heard him speaking to someone.
It didn’t matter. Nothing did if Killian wasn’t still here with me.
“Come on, Tris.” Strong, firm hands guided me to my feet.
I let out a weak protest.
Those same hands gently picked me up, cradling me to a warm, solid chest that I knew better than any other.
Peter.
“It’s going to be okay.” His voice broke through my despair.
“Nothing will be okay if he dies,” I murmured, numbness creeping through my limbs.
I could hear him talking still, but most of his words didn’t break past my numbing thoughts.
“Wendy, can we use your car?” Peter yelled out.
“Of course.” Wendy’s voice sounded even further away.
They said more, but I blocked it out. The pain overcoming every cell in my body was too great to focus on any one thing.
I tumbled onto a worn seat before I was yanked upright. I couldn’t find it in me to care where they were taking me.
Chills raced through me.
I was so damn cold.
“Tris, I need you to focus on me.” I was pretty sure it was Peter speaking to me.
I turned my head away.
His fingertips forced my chin back to face him. “You’re stronger than this. Damn it, Tris,” he snapped. “I will not let you fall apart.”
I blinked, Peter’s worried gaze focused on me.
“We’re about fifteen minutes away,” Wendy called from the front seat. I glanced at her and Peter’s hand fell away.
We were in a car. When did I get into the car?
I faced Peter and blew out a breath. My lungs screamed in pain as I pushed another breath into them.
“Come on, Tris. Look at me.”
My knees screamed in pain as I shifted. I vaguely remembered falling.
“That’s it. Right here.”
“Killian.” His name came out as a whimper.
Peter’s fingertips pressed into my cheeks. I had no other option but to stare into his hazel eyes. “It’s going to be okay. You need to be strong for him.”
“No, Jack said?—”
“Jack’s a fucking asshole,” Peter growled. “Killian was hit in the head. He’s on the way to the hospital, and the EMT’s think that the worst he has is a concussion, but they want x-rays to be sure there’s no swelling. And they want to check for spinal injuries.”
“He’s alive,” I whispered, hardly able to believe it.
“Yeah. You scared the shit out of me, Tris.” Peter collapsed next to me. “Fuck.”
“Jack lied to me.” I was going to kill him.
“Yup.” Peter rubbed at his forehead.
“How did Killian get hit in the head?” Had Jack also lied about him helping Judd? I slumped onto the worn fabric. Now that I knew he wasn’t dying, the adrenaline in my system was taking a nosedive.
He shrugged. “I don’t fucking know. Something about Judd.”
“I’m going to kill all three of them,” I seethed. Killian had promised he was done helping Judd. And Jack was at the top of my shitlist for the stunt he pulled. We were going to have a come-to-Jesus meeting whether they liked it or not.
“Uh,” Peter moved away from me looking wary, likely seeing the murderous intent in my eyes. “You okay, Tris?”
“Yup. Where’s my phone?” I had a call to make. “How far are we from the hospital?”
“A little less than ten,” Wendy responded.
Good. I planned to let Jack know exactly what I thought of him. And if Judd was there, he’d get a piece of my mind too.
We pulled up in front of the main entrance at the hospital. After I spoke to Jack, he admitted he was being a jerk and let me know that they’d already put Killian in a private room. He’d been getting too much attention as they passed through the emergency department.
“Are you coming?” I asked Peter as I exited the car.
He shook his head, a wry smile tilting the corners of his mouth. “I don’t think that’s the best idea. He won’t want to see me.”
I nodded. “At some point you two need to clear the air. You don’t need to be best friends again, but I need you two to be civil to each other. Okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
I rolled my eyes. His half-ass response would have to do for now. It wasn’t my main priority at the moment. “Thanks for the ride, Wendy.”
“Not a problem. I hope Killian’s okay,” Wendy called from the driver’s seat.
I gave her a brief smile and waited for Peter to take the spot in the front. Then, I leaned in. “Thanks for helping me when I was losing my shit, Peter.”
He nodded. “We’re family, Tris. Don’t forget that.”
Without delay I turned and hurried inside the building toward the reception desk. Should I tell them I was his girlfriend? His wife?
My brain was still rattled. I knew Killian wasn’t exactly dying, but I needed to see him with my own eyes before I truly believed that.
Gaining access to his room was easier than I expected. Smee had already put me on the approved list. I needed to get that man a spa day for thinking two steps ahead and not making me fight with hospital administration to see Killian.
My hands shook. What if when I got there something really was wrong? That Killian had taken a turn for the worse?
I hated how my emotions were all over the place. I hated that Killian put himself in danger like this. And I hated that we’d just found each other and the threat that we might not have time to explore that relationship hung in the air.
The smell of antiseptic hit me as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. A mixture of worry for Killian and anger that he’d put himself in harm’s way warred within me. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I’d see on the other side of his hospital room door.
What would I do if Killian was unconscious? Had swelling in his brain? If he never played music again after this? That last thought caused tears to burn in my eyes. Head injuries were serious. I rubbed a circle over my chest with my fist, hoping to ease some of the pain.
I approached the nurse’s station. “Hi, I’m here to see Killian Hook.”
A doctor in blue scrubs looked up from the paper he was jotting notes on. “I couldn’t help hearing that you’re here for Mr. Hook?”
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. “Yes, I’m Trissabelle Byrd, his girlfriend. How is he?” My voice cracked at the end.
The doctor’s expression softened slightly. “Mr. Hook is stable. He has a concussion and a broken wrist. The wrist is likely why he didn’t sustain further damage from the hit to his skull. He’s conscious, but is still a little disoriented.”
“Which wrist?” I swayed, needing to grip the counter in front of me. The relief flowing through me was overpowering, but if it was his dominant hand … It would destroy Killian if he lost the ability to play music.
“His left,” the doctor replied simply.
Thank fuck. “Will he recover fully?”
“With time and proper rehabilitation, yes. He’ll need to recognize his limitations as he heals. Both hands are needed to play the guitar.”
I thanked the doctor and wiped at the tears ribboning down my cheeks as I made my way to Killian’s room. My steps slowed as I turned the corner, and I took a deep breath before moving forward again.
I needed to brace myself, just in case. Logically, I figured the doctor had the most up-to-date news, but what if something had happened since he examined Killian?
The last person I wanted to see stood at the other end of the hall. Rage extinguished the worry until I took in Jack’s stance. He paced the hall in front of what I assumed was Killian’s room. His shoulders tight. His movements quick. His lips turned down into a worried frown.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My breath came out in harsh pants as I ran toward him. “Killian?”
Jack’s head snapped up. “Tris.”
“Is he all right?” I forced the words out past my tight throat. I rapidly blinked to stop fresh tears from falling.
He nodded.
Thank fuck.
Relief hit me so fast my legs wobbled and white spots shifted in front of me. Shit, I couldn’t pass out right now.
Jack reached out to steady me. “Are you okay?”
Bent at the waist, I had one hand on my hip and the other with my pointer finger out. He needed to give me a second.
Breathe , I reminded myself. In through my nose. Out through my mouth.
Five . Five things I could see—the floor. The old worn white with blue specks vinyl. My winged tattoo. In my periphery there were two abstract pieces of art on the wall. I straightened slightly and unfortunately, Jack’s worried gaze was the last thing I noticed. Okay that was five. My shoulders eased slightly.
Four. Four things I could touch—the soft cotton of the pants I wore. The smooth familiar links of the bracelet from Killian. Jack’s hand that I immediately pushed away. And the watch on my other wrist. I ran my fingers along the smooth glass front. My muscles relaxed now that the death grip on my hip was gone.
Three. Three things I could hear—the soft sounds of music coming from another room down the hall. The muffled voices from hospital staff behind me. And Jack’s repeated question, asking if I was alright. I drew in a breath, my chest not as tight as before.
Two. Two things I could smell—Jack’s cologne and the antiseptic scent of the hospital hallway. My panic ebbed a little more.
One. Something I could taste—after a few seconds of my mind racing on how to fulfill this one I remembered the stick of gum I’d tossed in my pocket just before I’d met with Killian at the recording studio. I’d been planning on using it to cover my coffee breath in case he wanted to kiss me. Clearly, that hadn’t been a problem if our kiss then was any indication. My lips curved into a faint smile.
I drew in another breath and released it, the panic receding.
Killian was going to be fine. I needed to remember that.
Once my vision cleared, I stood tall. Now that I’d had my freakout moment, anger rushed in. Immediately recognizing the shift in my demeanor, Jack took a step back and held out his hands. He had enough self-preservation to notice the change in me.
“Now, Tris. To be fair, when I called I didn’t say he was dead.”
“You knew exactly what you were saying, Jack Finn.” I stepped toward him and poked him hard in his athletically-sculpted chest.
“Maybe, but at the time I thought you might have broken up with Killian to be with Peter. I was pissed at you. It was all a misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding?” He clearly thought I was an idiot.
“Yeah. See, you get it.” A relieved smile touched his face. Jack was used to women falling at his feet with that grin.
I felt nothing but fury simmering under my skin. “I get it, all right.”
Tonight I was grateful for my height. It made reaching Jack’s 6’5” frame that much easier.
I positioned myself, brought my weight to the balls of my feet, and relaxed enough for my knees to have a soft bend. He never would’ve looked away for the second he did if he knew what I was planning.
“Fuck you, Jack.” My fist slammed into his jaw. I wasn’t looking for any permanent damage. I just wanted him to know I was pissed at him.
The poor bastard didn’t know what hit him. Literally.
His howl of laughter and pain followed me into the room.
“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath the second I saw the other occupant in the room.
Killian lay in the middle of a bed. Judd, who had a startled look on his face, by his side. “Yes, that was directed at all of you.”
“Dude, don’t let her get too close,” Jack warned them while rubbing his jaw, making sure to keep his distance. “She’s got a mean right hook.”
Killian’s eyes fluttered open. He squinted at the light filtering into the room from the window. “Tink?”
My hand flew to my lips to stifle the sob building in my throat as I drank in the sight of him, alive and conscious, despite the bandages and the sickly pallor of his skin. Those few seconds stretched into an eternity, where nothing existed but the miraculous sound of him speaking my name, and the overwhelming gratitude that threatened to shatter me into a thousand pieces. I blinked rapidly against the hot tears that blurred my vision, my heart hammering so loud everyone in the room must have been able to hear it.
I wanted to be the person who ran to his side, crying prettily, telling him he was so stupid for putting himself at risk. Instead, the volcano of anger erupted.