Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

brISTOL

" O kay, that's the last of it," Kris says, setting his tattoo gun down. He steps back and looks down at my back.

"Wow."

I smile. If he's impressed, I cannot wait to see what Sebastian thinks.

"Here, hand me your phone. You gotta see this."

I hand him my cell and he snaps a picture of my back. He flips my phone around and hands it to me. The image before me takes my breath away. It's even more perfect than I ever could have dreamed. The detail and shading are so perfect that I want to just stare at it and admire it for forever.

"I'm going to spray it down and wipe it then wrap it."

Kris spritzes alcohol on a paper towel and wipes it down my back. Some of the spots from earlier this week have already started healing but I can most definitely pinpoint the areas that he worked on today. The cold sting of the alcohol makes me tense, but I quickly relax as soon as he's done .

He rubs a smooth cream over my back then covers it with saran wrap, taping it in place across my shoulders and lower back.

"All done. I'll step out so you can get dressed. I would avoid a bra for a bit until it's healed so that it doesn't rub too bad."

"Okay. Thank you."

Kris steps out and I sit up, pulling my shirt on. My back is sore. What we thought would be a day turned into three days. But it was well worth it.

I haven't heard from Sebastian today and as badly as I want to send him a picture of this, I want him to see it in person even more. It's just after noon and Kendra is pulling up as I step outside of the tattoo parlor.

I slip into the passenger seat and the grim look on her face makes my heart jump into my throat.

"What happened?" I ask.

I hold my breath as tears well in her eyes and she tries to gain her composure.

"There was a really bad accident. Well, more than an accident. An explosion."

"Kendra…" I warn.

"Sebastian is in the hospital. He suffered severe burns and smoke inhalation."

The world spins rapidly around me. The air is sucked from my lungs. My heart pounds in my chest. The thrum of blood rushing through my veins echoes so loudly in my ears that if I weren't sitting, I think I'd pass out. I may still.

"Buckle up. We're going there now," Kendra demands, turning the car around and hauling ass onto the highway. The drive to the hospital is a blur. I can't focus on anything other than this sinking feeling in my stomach. It's worse than the feeling of Patrick sneaking into that room to assault me. It's worse than the physical pain he inflicted on me for his own sick personal amusement. The thought of losing Sebastian is the worst thing I've ever felt.

Four hours, seventeen minutes and thirty seconds. That's how long we've been driving when we finally pull into the parking garage at the hospital. The hospital that houses the man that I love. Injured. To what extent? I don't know. I don't want to know. I do. But I don't. It's so fucking conflicting. My heart feels like it's permanently in my throat and I want to throw up, but I can't.

There's something about being in the midst of a tragedy that brings a calmness to me and to my movements. I slowly exit the car and walk calmly next to Kendra across the sky bridge connecting the parking garage to the hospital. Once inside, Reaper, Mo, and another man I don't recognize meet us in the lobby.

Mo pulls me into his big burly chest and any resolve I had left dissipates and I fall apart in his arms. Mo is the closest thing to family I have other than Sebastian and right now, he's the only thing holding the shambles of myself together. If he lets go, I'm going to face plant, so I hope he doesn't.

"It's okay, darlin'," Mo whispers, holding me tight.

I take slow, calming breaths to try and stop the onslaught of tears. When I'm able to catch my breath, I wipe my face and try to remain as stoic as possible.

"Where is he?" I ask.

"Listen, Bristol. He's burnt pretty bad and he's on a load of medications to help with pain management."

I cry into Mo's chest for who knows how long before they guide us to a private waiting area. The room is small, it feels even smaller with all of us inside. There is one love seat and two chairs, and little space left for the doors on either side of the room to open. They're in a line, as if opening them both at the same time would allow for a hospital bed to pass straight through.

Mo and Reaper stand while Kendra sits next to me on the couch, and the other man takes a seat in one of the chairs.

"What happened?" I ask.

Reaper runs a hand through his hair and his lips purse.

"We were tracking the guy… the one that had you. Shit went south at an exchange that was being made and it turned out that guy wasn't even there. Long story short, there were innocent people inside the house when it exploded as we were driving away, and Sebastian fucking went back in. He got the kids out, but he couldn't fit through the window of the basement with his wide ass fucking shoulders."

Reaper's hands are fisted by his side, white-knuckled with his anger. I can't tell if he's mad at Sebastian or himself, or maybe it's a little of both. The room is silent, the echo of Reaper's words so loud in the silence that surrounds us.

A loud thud makes me jump so hard I swear my heart stopped for a moment. I look in the direction it came from to see Reaper punching the wall. The other man rises from the chair he's sitting in and grabs Reaper's shoulder before he can throw another punch.

"Let's take a walk," he says calmly. Too calmly. It's eerie.

Reaper nods and follows him out of the room.

"What are we waiting for?" Kendra asks.

"They took him back to clean his wounds and bandage him up. They're going to come get us from this room whenever he can have visitors."

I sigh and sit back on the couch. As soon as my back touches the couch, I gasp and spring forward. The pressure on my back hurt and it's only now that I remember I just had my entire back tattooed.

"I'm going to go check on Reaper," Kendra says softly.

Everyone is talking so quietly. It's as if they think the softer their words are the softer the blow to my heart will be. They're wrong. They could scream and shout and yell it through a megaphone and no amount of noise could drown out the absolute brokenness that I feel inside.

People always talk about how they are emotionless in the midst of chaos. Numb. Empty. Too overwhelmed to feel anything. None of that makes any sense to me. I feel everything so fucking deeply, they may as well have burned me alongside him.

I just want to see him. Touch his face. Tell him I love him. Tell him I'm here.

A silent tear streams down my cheek while so many thoughts clammer through my mind in a whirlwind. Sebastian is my steady. The person I have been able to turn to in any situation since I've been freed. I don't know what to do without his guidance. I need him to wake up. I need him to be okay. I need him to tell me that it's going to be okay.

Mo pulls me into his side, and we sit in silence while tears run down my face. There's a soft knock on the door. I snap my head up, staring at the door. It slowly opens and a doctor walks in. He's much younger than I expected. I guess I pictured someone with white hair and a cold smile. I'm met with a man that looks to be in his early forties. His hair is a light brown, and he has a mustache and beard that are the same color but sprinkled with a little more silver hair throughout.

His smile is soft and welcoming, and I feel an odd sense of relief seeing that this is who has been taking care of Sebastian.

"Doc?" Mo says, smiling at the man.

"Hey, Mo! I didn't know this was one of your guys."

I stare at the two of them while waiting for the topic of conversation to turn to the whole fucking reason we're here.

"This is Sebastian's girlfriend, Bristol. What can you tell us about how he's doing?" Mo asks.

Doc goes on to explain in grave detail the affected areas and how they intend to treat Sebastian's wounds. I'm hyper focused, tuned into every word coming out of Doc's mouth. He will have to go through wound care for what Doc says is a long time and it is going to be very painful.

My heart breaks knowing that he is going to have to endure so much pain. Doc says he's heavily medicated, but awake. His burns are limited to his left arm, shoulder, and the entire left side of his torso, covering his ribcage and some spots on his back.

After Doc is done explaining everything to us, he leads us through the hospital to a hallway of rooms and nurse's stations. The hospital is busy, crawling with people moving through the hallways. Phones are ringing, machines are beeping. There is so much going on that it's strange to think of all of the things truly happening right now. People in here are dying, being born, healing, declining. There are so many happenings, happening and yet people are continuing on with their busy lives inside of these walls.

My mind races, focusing on nothing and everything as we walk past the hustle and bustle of the hospital. Finally, he stops at a door and knocks softly, not giving time for a response from inside before opening it. We step in behind him and I close the door softly. The lights are dim, and there isn't much daylight left outside to seep in through the partially parted curtains.

There is a nurse by Sebastian's bedside. He's positioned lying on his right side, facing the door we just came in through. I don't know why I expected him to be in some kind of full body suit, wrapped up like a mummy with his arms and feet elevated in slings, but that is most definitely not the view that I walked into.

Aside from the bandage on his arm and him being in a hospital gown, he looks like my Sebastian. The same way he looked when he kissed me goodbye and left five days ago. I want to rush over to him and pull him into my arms, but I remain calm. I've had years of learning to control my emotions but that somehow feels like eons ago, a different life entirely.

"He's on some pretty strong painkillers, but he is in and out," Doc says, standing by the door.

"I'll be with him the whole time," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I'm not even sure that I spoke until Mo speaks up.

"One of us will be here for you, too, at all times. I'll have a prospect in the parking lot around the clock. If you need anything, you just call."

I nod and with that, Mo and Doc walk out with the nurse right behind them, leaving me alone with Sebastian. There's a small recliner beside the bed, next to the couch that folds out into a bed. I pull the recliner up next to his bed, as close to him as I can get. He's resting and the steady rhythm of his breathing gives me so much peace. He is okay. He is going to be okay. I fold my arms onto his bed and rest my head on them, staring at him sleeping. I stare at him for hours before I doze off.

The sound of a pained scream rips me from the most blissful nap. I jump up, nearly falling backward over the recliner behind me as I search the room frantically for whatever is causing the screaming. I look down and see Sebastian's face contorted with his brows drawn tightly together and his lips shut tight. He looks so uncomfortable. I reach for the remote that has the nurse button and before I can push it, two nurses come rushing in.

Machines are beeping, Sebastian lets out another yell as one of the nurses puts her hand on his shoulder. At some point between waking up and the nurses coming in, I move halfway across the room and out of the way. I stand back helplessly watching as Sebastian suffers. It's the most broken I've ever felt. Watching as the man I love hurts and being unable to do anything to make it any better.

The overhead lights are turned on by one of the nurses, and they begin assessing him. I don't even think he knows I'm here. While one of the nurses undoes his bandage and puts some kind of clear gel from a silver tube on his arm, I head to the other side of the bed.

"Hey, baby," I say, resting my hand on his collarbone.

His eyes pop open and he stares at me wide-eyed for a beat.

"Hey, love," he says, his voice hoarse.

His right hand comes up to rest right on top of mine. He nestles his head against my arm and winces as the nurse begins wrapping the gauze around his arm. I couldn't see much, but from the glimpse of his bare arm that I could see, he's missing some spots of tattoo on his arm.

"Water," he whispers.

"I'm Melanie and I'm his nurse for the night. I'll go grab him some fresh water and a cup of ice," the taller nurse with long blonde hair says softly. She turns out the bright lights and they both leave the room.

Sebastian's eyes are closed and I know he probably doesn't want to talk a whole lot. I can imagine how his throat feels with inhaling smoke and being half out of it.

Nurse Melanie returns with a full pitcher of water and a plastic cup full of ice with a bendy straw and a lid. She fills the cup and hands it to me, noting Sebastian's state of rest.

"Thank you," I whisper.

She smiles and nods, walking out of the room. The door clicks closed and Sebastian's eyes flutter open.

"Here, she brought some water for you," I say, pressing the straw to his lips.

He takes two sips and coughs hard. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath and his face reddens with each cough. Once he finally can breathe, I move the straw back to his lips.

"Slow sips, baby," I say softly.

His emerald green eyes are half-lidded, barely open as he fights the medication that courses through his veins.

He listens to me, slowly sipping the water for a few minutes. When he's done, he rests his head on his pillow. His lips part and the constant, steady rhythm of his breathing evens out. I exhale and feel my body relax. Knowing he is getting a little bit of rest feels like a weight is lifted from my chest. For now.

I sit back in the recliner, my hand holding onto his for dear life. I rest my head on the back of the stiff chair they call a recliner, the sting of my back has me rethinking this. I decide to rest my head back onto my arms on Sebastian's bed. It's comfortable and I feel closer to him.

The night is long with nurses coming in and out all night. Machines beeping. Sebastian screaming out in agony. The lights coming on for nurses to check on things, swap out medicine, and so on and so forth.

All I can think is that if I could take away the pain, I would. I hate that this happened to him. And I hate even more that it happened because he was seeking out revenge for what happened to me. I know I can't control the choices he makes, but I am carrying so much anger and resentment toward Patrick and I don't know what to do with it. I feel too many of the feelings. Too many of my feelings. And if I don't figure out what to do with them soon, I fear they will come out of my fists.