31. Blayne

THIRTY-ONE

BLAYNE

When my eyes fluttered open, I had a moment where I thought I was dead. There was a bright light above my head. Everything around me was white and deathly quiet. I could hear the ragged intake of my breath. It was only when I heard the nurse gasp that my vision cleared and I realized the light was only a fluorescent bulb above me. The white was the paint on the ceiling. Then I could hear the faint beeping of machines.

My body felt strangely heavy. It took more effort than it should have for me to raise my head. The nurse was leaning out the door, calling for the doctor.

When I rested my head back on the pillow, I was overcome with fatigue. Lifting my head alone had made me feel like I'd run two Ironman races back to back. My eyes closed again, and sleep took me.

I woke up again when the doctor opened my eyelids a few minutes later. He flashed a small penlight at my eyes, and it sent a spike of pain into my brain.

"Mr. Walker? Can you hear me?" the doctor asked, his voice very low and calm.

There wasn't enough strength to nod, and when I tried to talk, no sound came out but a whispery rasp. He put a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay. Take your time. You've been unconscious for a week. It'll take some time for your vocal cords to work." He turned and looked at the nurse. "Is his friend still out in the waiting room?"

"I don't think he's left all week," she said.

"Okay. Go let him know Mr. Walker is awake. We'll need to test his vitals before we can allow any other visitors."

"Ava?" I hissed.

"I'm sorry?" The doctor leaned down to hear me better.

I swallowed and tried again. "Ava?"

He frowned and looked a bit confused. Finally, he patted my chest. "I'm sure your friend will contact everyone and let them know how you're doing. First things first, let's see how you're doing."

For the next hour, they checked my wounds, my blood pressure, respiratory rate, oximetry, and a dozen other things I couldn't even comprehend. Apparently everything checked out. After they took out my feeding tube, they moved me to another room. It was much less austere and as homey as a hospital room could get. That little change was enough to raise my spirits. I was still exhausted, feeling like I'd been hit by a bus, but I was starting to feel better.

A few minutes after they moved me to my new room, Tate walked in. When he looked at me, it was obvious that he'd been crying. His eyes were red and bloodshot. He rushed forward, and I could tell he wanted to hug me. Thank God he didn't. He probably would have broken me. He stopped at the edge of my bed and rested his hands on the rail.

"Hey, big guy," he said. "I guess you really are too dumb to die."

I chuckled, but it sent a lancing pain through my side where I'd been stabbed. "Ah, fuck, that hurts. Where's everyone else?"

Tate sighed. "I didn't call anyone until I could be sure you were awake for good. I called Ava as soon as they moved you to this room. She's on her way. I talked to the guys a second before I came in here. They're coming."

My heart ached at hearing Ava's name. "How is she?"

"If I'm honest? Pretty shitty. You and her father have both been knocking on death's door. Gio's fine. He got released yesterday. She's been holding up as well as she can, but…" He shook his head and shrugged.

I sighed. Tate leaned forward and put a hand on my shoulder. "You'll never know how much it meant to me. The way you raced in and saved Steff like that. But you can't…you can't scare us like this again." His voice cracked as he spoke and his eyes misted with fresh tears.

At that moment, I understood how worried everyone had been for me. It really must have been bad. Tate was not a crier. For him to be this emotional, I truly must have been right on the edge.

That thought gave me an existential fear that made me a little dizzy. I wanted to raise a hand and pat his shoulder, grab his forearm for comfort, but it was like hundred-pound weights were tied to my wrists. My body was still too tired.

"Where is he?" a voice in the hall called out. "Blayne Walker. Where the hell is he?"

My heart sped up when I heard that voice. Ava.

Tate turned and opened the door, waving her in. Ava stumbled into the room. Her hair was messy, like she'd just woken up. Her eyes were frantic and red. My heart shattered when I saw how strung out and worried she looked.

"Hey, beautiful," I whispered.

Ava's hand went to her mouth, and she began to sink to the floor as tears and sobs burst out of her. Tate, lithe and quick, leaped forward and caught her around the waist before she could hit the floor.

"Come on, Ava," Tate whispered.

He helped her walk to me, and a lump formed in my throat. Seeing her this broken tore my insides up. It made the physical pain I felt seem like nothing.

Tate lifted her up like a bride, then settled her in the bed beside me, on the side that was not injured. The doctors and nurses would have probably lost their shit if they'd seen him do it, but they could fuck off. I wanted to hold my girl.

Tate helped me get my arm up and around her before backing away toward the door. "I'll head out and wait for the guys." He closed the door as he left.

Ava's fingers twisted into my hospital gown as she clung to me. She buried her face in the crook of my arm and sobbed. The shaking of her body as she cried shook my own body. It made her sadness more real somehow.

I managed to stroke her hair twice before getting too tired. "It's okay. I'll be all right," I whispered into her ear.

"I thought I was gonna lose you," she mumbled into my chest. "I'm gonna kick your ass for scaring me like that."

Even though it hurt, I couldn't stop the chuckle that came from me. We sat like that in silence for a long time. It was nice—holding her against me, feeling her heat melt into me. She needed this as much as I did. The comfort of being together, of hearing each other breathe was what I needed to heal.

Finally, she looked at me. "I was so scared, Blayne. It was bad when Liam died, but when I thought I was going to lose you, too…" She shook her head. "I thought it was going to be the end of me. You need to promise me that you'll never do something like this to me again. I don't think I could survive it." Fresh tears filled her eyes.

I kissed her. My lips and tongue were dry, but it didn't matter. "I promise.

The nurses continued to come in and check on me. Tate started bringing in visitors. Steff and April had been the first to get there. Steff had his usual cocky smile, but it was forced.

"You asshole. Had to go and be the hero. I guess you had to do something since you're the ugliest one of all of us." Steff took my hand as he spoke.

We talked for a few minutes before Celina came in, rolling Miles in a wheelchair. Miles grinned at me, and I could see he'd been crying. All these guys were getting sentimental now that they had families.

At the edge of my bed, Miles stood. It looked painful for him, and even though Celina chastised him for it, he stepped over to me and leaned on the bed. He rested a hand on my shoulder. "Good job, bro. I never had any doubt you'd pull through."

I nodded toward his injuries. "How are you?"

He grinned. "Got shot in the shoulder and leg. Shifter healing, though. I'll probably be walking on my own in another day. Limp for a week maybe. I should be fine by the end of the month. No need to worry about me."

Ava never left my side, huddling against me in the bed.

The last visitor was Gio. Sam pushed him through the doors in a wheelchair similar to what Miles had been in. Gio looked much worse for wear, though. The two men smiled when they saw I was awake.

Looking at Gio, I said, "Man, you're way too old to be getting into gun fights."

Gio laughed, then winced and put a hand to his side where he'd been shot. "Yeah, yeah. I'm too old for a lot of things." He looked at Ava, and his face softened. "We both scared the shit out of my girl. We shouldn't make a habit of it."

"We've had that conversation already," I said.

"Well, if I know my daughter, it won't be the only time you have it."

"You're damn right," Ava said.

Gio leaned forward in his chair and locked his eyes on me. "I loved your brother. I've felt, for years, like I failed him. I like you, too, Blayne. I'll probably come to love you the way I did your brother. I never want to see harm come to someone I love. From now on, you keep yourself safe. You understand me?"

I couldn't speak. The memories of my brother made it hard to find the words. This man really had loved Liam. I could see that my brother's death had been hard on him. All I could do was nod in response.

"Good," Gio said. "I need to head home. I took some pain meds right before we came. I'll start to fall asleep soon if I'm not careful. Ava? I'll see you at home?"

"Yes, Daddy."

Sam rolled Gio back out the door. Ava stayed with me until visiting hours were over. I thought she might clock the nurse when she told her she had to leave, but thankfully she complied.

I didn't have to wait long to see her again, though. Every day for the next two weeks, she showed up and spent the whole day with me. The nurses had almost nothing to do. She fussed over me like a mother hen. She fed me, helped me move to prevent bed sores, and escorted me to the bathroom. I put my foot down on her wiping my ass, though. I'd be damned if she was gonna do that. At least not until we were in our eighties—maybe not even then.

Through everything—the hospital recovery, the sessions of physical therapy, the removal of my stitches—Ava was with me. Attached to my hip. The day I was finally released from the hospital, I looked at her as she rolled me toward the doors in my wheelchair, and I couldn't remember ever being so happy to have someone near me.