Chapter 25

I grip the steering wheel with one hand because Rhett has a chokehold on the other. He stares out the window, but I know he's not seeing trees, cars, or mountains; he's lost in his head.

"When we get there, I need you to remain calm. Just let me do the talking. These doctors, they like to speak in medical terms, I think because it lessens the emotional impact of what they're saying. There's also a lot they won't say, but I can read between the lines. I'll break it all down for you."

Finally, Rhett glances over at me. His wounded hazel eyes are wet with unshed tears. "I'm so grateful you're here. I don't know what's going on with my mama, but I don't know if I could handle it alone."

His words hit me right in my heart. He's so young, and he's got that twenty-four-karat gold heart he told me was something he looked for in others, and he's lost more than anyone deserves to lose. I'm not sure he can handle one more thing. Not without damaging his beautiful soul.

"No matter what happens, you can bet I'll be right here by your side through whatever comes our way. We'll handle it together."

"Really? 'Cause not fifteen minutes ago, you were tryin' to ditch me."

"I… I wasn't trying to ditch you. I was—" Trying to ditch you . "I haven't done this before, the relationship thing. We're both new at this, and we knew there was a strong possibility we were going to fuck this up. I was trying to remind myself to be cautious, to guard my heart, instead of handing it to you on a silver platter. Where you're concerned, I tend to forget about boundaries and good sense and I just do what feels right."

He blinks slowly as my words penetrate through the fog he's using to insulate himself from what's coming. "What feels right?"

The words try to stick in my throat, behind the knot forming. I clear it loudly. "I broke all my rules for you. I guess protecting you, loving you, that's what feels right."

His tears start to fall one by one, rolling down his cheeks. "You love me?"

"That's not what I—I meant loving you, the act of being good to someone, caring for someone."

"You're wrong about me, Riggs. I may have a wild streak, but I'm not a wild card. I think you know exactly who I am. I think that's why you're able to love me, even when it scares you."

Of course, he's going to advocate for himself. Rhett is always looking for a loophole, always trying to push his agenda, and ever since I met him, I seem to be his agenda. It's kind of cute, actually. "Is that what you think?"

"You've denied it before, but you're a fuckin' liar. When we were in the desert, the night I got hurt, I felt something when I met you. I don't know what, but something, and I know for a fact you felt it too. Then, at Womack, you fuckin' knew I would be there, that you would see me again when you said goodbye to me in Afghanistan. You were back for two fuckin' weeks, spyin' on me before you made yourself known. Why would you do that if you didn't care? Every time I need somethin', every time I turn around, you're there with a solution. I know you do that for all the guys, but look me in the eye and tell me it's not different with us. I dare you."

There he is, my cocky soldier. There's the fire in his eyes that makes my blood heat. "The truth is, since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about."

He swipes away his tears and sniffles. "You wanna know how I know you're the one? 'Cause I've never felt this way before about anyone or anything. Just you, Riggs. Loving you, yeah, that feels right, but also, I'm in love with you. I know it for a fact. That might scare you, that might make you want to push me away, but you already know by now that I'll just keep coming back. I'll always come back to you, 'cause you're mine."

It's best if I don't say too much right now, or I'll be a blubbering fucking mess like he is. "I'm yours?"

"Hell yeah. I claimed you the night I fuckin' met you. I snotted all over your shirt. You've been mine ever since."

He's right. Absolutely fucking right. I'm his. "Well, now that we've got that settled, let's focus on your mama. We can talk about us later."

By the time we arrive, Retta's already booked into a room in the ICU. Only Rhett is allowed in, and I watch through the observation window. She looks like she's aged twenty years since the last time I saw her just days ago. But what's more heartbreaking is Rhett's face. His whole body is slumped over at her bedside. He's constantly wiping away his tears, and his hair is a disheveled mess from running his fingers through it. If I could see his eyes right now, I'm sure I would see his entire heart in them, broken and suffering.

A nurse wearing blue scrubs walks by, and I flag her, desperately seeking information. "Hi, can you tell me anything about Loretta Marsh?"

"Are you family?"

I know this game, I play it with my patients. Of course, she can't tell me anything if I'm not kin. "Yes ma'am, I'm Retta's nephew."

She checks her chart and then peers through the window at Rhett. "Would you like to wait until her son is finished visiting so I can tell you both together? That'll give me time to get the doctor."

I'd rather hear the news first, so I can tell Rhett privately. "That's not necessary. I can discuss it with him as soon as we're finished."

She sighs and checks her chart again. "I can't discuss her condition. You'll have to wait for Doctor Anson for that, but I can tell you that, for now, she's stable. Probably not likely to wake up soon because she's drugged to the gills. We had to sedate her to bring down her blood pressure."

"Can you tell me why her blood pressure spiked? Or what caused her to be brought in?"

"She was found unconscious in her home. Dr. Anson will discuss the reasons her blood pressure spiked with you. I'll go page him."

It's bullshit. I know she can tell me; it's right there in her chart and she has permission to discuss her patients' conditions with family. The fact she's deferring to the doctor tells me everything.

It's bad. Real fucking bad.

I look through the window again, and Rhett raises his head as if he can feel my eyes on him. He shakes his head sadly, maybe indicating that it doesn't look good. My throat works, convulsing like it's having a seizure. How do I tell him? How do I find the words to explain to Rhett that he's likely going to lose his mother?

How do I break his heart when I swore to protect it?

Finally, after what seems like hours, but is likely only ten minutes or so, Doctor Anson approaches me. I wrap my knuckles on the glass to signal Rhett. He closes the door behind him so his mother can rest peacefully.

"I'm Dr. Anson," he says politely, holding out his hand to Rhett. "You must be Loretta's son. Which makes you her nephew," he says to me. I don't miss how Rhett's head snaps to me.

"Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Anson. Can you tell us what's going on?"

"Your mother was brought in unconscious. Her blood pressure spiked too high, and she fainted. We've given her medicine to bring it down, and she's taking IV fluids for dehydration. We've also given her medicine to keep her sedated for now so that her blood pressure doesn't rise again. It's easy to become agitated when you're not feeling your best, and pain can make it spike."

"Pain, what pain? Why is my mama in pain?" Rhett sounds panicked, his voice climbing higher and higher.

"Your mother has an inherited condition called polycystic kidney disease."

"What does that mean?"

"PKD causes clusters of cysts to grow throughout the body, mainly around the kidneys. Your mother's kidneys are failing her. When the kidneys fail, the body begins to shut down because it can't filter toxins. This causes high blood pressure and hypertension, which is what your mother suffered tonight."

I'm thinking there's no way Loretta didn't know she was sick. There would be too many signs and symptoms she would have had to ignore. "Is she on the donor list?"

"She's not. But it's not just her kidneys, it's her pancreas as well. And it could be a matter of weeks or even days before it affects the rest of her organs."

"So—so what? What does that mean? You can't fix her? You can't replace all those organs?" Rhett sputters.

My heart clenches painfully. He's desperate, he's bargaining, and it's going to get worse before it gets better.

Dr. Anson looks sympathetic. "Even if we could, which is unlikely, her body will continue to attack new organs, and the cysts will continue to spread."

"So, what are you saying, Doc? What does that mean?" Rhett grips my forearm. "What does that mean, Riggs?"

It means she's going to die .

"For now, all we can do is keep your mother comfortable and keep her sedated. If she becomes agitated, she could be at risk for an aneurysm or stroke." The doctor clears his throat. "I'll let you know more when I have more information."

He walks away, and Rhett is still clinging to my arm desperately. He's looking at me like he wants me to deny everything the doctor just told us.

I fold him in my arms, rubbing my hand up and down his back soothingly. "Come on, let me buy you a cup of coffee. We can talk more about it."

In the cafeteria, we find a table near the window, and Rhett stares, unseeing, out the foggy pane as rain beats against the glass. Clutching my coffee in both hands, I let the warmth seep into my skin, hoping it will thaw the icy pain of watching him suffer.

"They're just gonna let her die." His voice sounds flat, dead. "They're not doin' anything for her. They're just gonna let her die."

"They're doing all they can. You know that."

He turns to me, showing me his red-rimmed eyes. "What if I give her my kidney? Will that help?"

He's killing me. Crushing my heart in his fist. "Rhett, even if you were a match, you heard the doctor. Her body will continue to attack her organs."

"But I could buy her a little more time, right?"

"It wouldn't be much. Not nearly enough. You would likely spend whatever time you bought her recovering from your surgery. You wouldn't even be able to see her."

The damn holding back his emotions cracks under the pressure, and he falls apart, sobbing, his face just sort of crumbling in on itself. "Riggs. Help me. Do something."

Tears sting my eyes, and I drag a deep breath into my heavy chest, willing myself to hold it together, for his sake. "Babe," my voice is thick and warbled with emotions I'm holding back. "I wish there was something I could do. But you know I can't. All I can do is be here to support you and be strong for you. I can listen, I can hold you, and I can watch over your mama while you sleep."

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, holding them there while he gets a hold of himself. "Ugh! I don't think I can do this. I'm not strong enough."

"You're the strongest person I know, soldier. I've seen men go through less than you have and suffer way more horribly. You're a fighter, a warrior, you get knocked down, and you bounce right back again."

"Not this time. This time, I think I'm gonna stay down."

He sounds utterly defeated, like a kicked dog. "Do you want to head home and get some rest? We'll be back first thing in the morning, or would you like to head back to your mother?"

"I can't leave her. What if she wakes up?"

"Rhett, they have her heavily sedated."

"I know, but maybe… maybe she can feel me, ya know? Like, sense me or hear me if I talk to her. Maybe she just needs to know I'm here."

"All right, I'll walk you back."

"Are you gonna go back home?"

"No. I told you, I'll be right by your side, every step of the way."

"So, you're just gonna hang out in the waiting room?"

I shrug, giving him an easy smile. "I think I saw some good magazines."

He pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Poly—cystic," he mumbles, typing away.

"Kidney disease. What are you looking up?"

"Gotta learn all I can about her condition. Maybe… I don't know, maybe I'll find somethin' that will help her. Maybe I'll think of something."

Denial. The first stage of grief.

"Come on, you can look at that while you're sitting with your mama." I refuse to tell him it's pointless to think he's going to make the next medical breakthrough in PKD. Rhett has a lot of things to come to terms with, and he's going to have to do it alone, even if I'm standing right beside him, holding his hand the whole way.

When he stands, I round the table, taking him in my arms. He's warm and his scent is familiar, and I just want to bury myself in him.

He sighs deeply. "I needed that."

Taking his face in my hands, I bring my mouth to his, softly pressing kisses on his lips. Rhett opens for me and I slide my tongue in his mouth, sharing the same breath. It's not a passionate kiss, more comforting, reaffirming.

"I needed that," I parrot, touching my forehead to his.

In the hall, Rhett turns left to head back to the ICU and I turn right, heading for the waiting room. As soon as I push through the door, I freeze and do a double take, no, a triple take.

The entire room is filled wall-to-wall with Bitches.

Some are reading magazines, others are knitting, and others are scrolling through their phones.

I shouldn't be surprised, though; this is what they do, show up for each other when someone needs it, but it's one o'clock in the morning.

"Riggs, how's Rhett?"

"How's his mom?"

"Is she gonna be all right?"

"Guys, one at a time. He's a mess. He's all over the place. Retta is… not good. There really isn't much they can do for her. It's just a waiting game at this point."

West comes over to me and wraps me in a hug. "We're here for you, for both of you."

"I appreciate it. I do, really, and so will Rhett, even if he doesn't act like it right now."

"Mandy called us and told us the paramedics came. It's just like with Nash," West recalls. "Man, Liza's friend is gonna be pissed off. That's the second door she's had to replace in six months."

Mandy snorts. "It'll be a cold day in hell before she rents to one of Liza's friends again."

Nash leans over and taps Mandy on the shoulder. "I'm the best damn neighbor you've ever had."

Mandy shakes his head. "Dude, I pulled a shovel out of your wall."

McCormick takes the empty chair between them, talking around a mouthful of honey bun from the vending machine. "I always thought I made a great neighbor. I don't have a lot of people over and I've never had the police called?—"

" Bullshit ," Stiles coughs.

"—Okay, that one time with the ferret, the goose, and the chick from the Piggly Wiggly don't count. That was totally not my fault. But other than that, I idle my bike out of the parking lot, I don't let my mail or trash pile up, and unfortunately, I don't have loud sex that can be heard through the walls." He takes another bite. "The perfect neighbor, really."

He sounds ridiculous, and it breaks the ice, as everyone laughs. "Hey," I tap Mandy. "You got another ball of yarn in there and a set of needles for me? It's gonna be a long night."

"Of course." He digs in his bag and pulls out the brightest orange I've ever seen. "We should all knit something for Retta."

"Maybe an afghan," Stiles suggests.

"Even if she doesn't use it for long," Jax points out sadly. "Rhett will have something of hers to take home."

"Guys, I think that's a great idea. Let's get started." My voice breaks on the last word, overwhelmed with gratitude for these men.