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Nine years was more than enough.
Chapter Twenty-One
~Matt~
I opened my eyes and squinted against the bright florescent lights that flooded my gaze.
“There he is,” Griffin said, his tone thick with relief. He leaned over me, smiling as he brushed hair off of my forehead.
“Am I dead?” I asked, my tone hoarse. My mouth was so dry, and my body ached as if I’d run for miles. “Why does it hurt?”
“You’re not dead,” Griffin assured me. “Let me grab the nurse. I’ll have them get you something for the pain.”
“No.” My hand shot out and I grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave me.”
“I will never leave you again,” he promised. “I’m just going out in the hall for two seconds.” He pulled my hand to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss against my knuckles before releasing me and walking out of the room.
The beeping and whirring of machines caught my attention and I turned to see monitors on carts surrounding me. I was in the hospital. Why was I in the hospital?
Kenny should be in the hospital.
I forced myself to sit up and swung my legs off the side of the bed, gripping the side rail as I gingerly put weight on my feet.
“Whoa!” Griffin yelled, running back into the room and grabbing me around the waist. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Kenny,” I said, struggling to get free of him. “I need to see him.”
“Get back in bed,” Griffin barked. “You’re going to rip your stitches open.”
“Let me go!” I yelled.
The doctor rushed into the room then, followed by two other men. The doctor shoved a needle into my ass and within seconds I seemed to lose feeling in my legs. Griffin and the two orderlies dragged me back up into the bed while the doctor glared down at me.
“Not a good time to go for a run, Mr. Lynch,” he said, shaking his head. “You spent four hours in surgery, and we’d appreciate it if you didn’t damage all the hard work we put in.”
“What happened?” I asked, rolling my head to look back at Griffin. “Where’s Kenny?”
“Do you remember Eddie shooting you?” Griffin asked softly.
I tried to think back to the warehouse, but all I could remember was seeing Kenny laying on the floor, bloody and bruised and cut up. I shook my head, closing my eyes so no one would see them fill with tears.
“It’s okay,” Griffin whispered, his warm, soft fingers playing lightly over my arm. “You got shot in the chest. The bullet ricocheted off your rib cage and bounced around inside you like a pinball but somehow managed to avoid every major organ and artery. It’s a fucking miracle, but you’re going to be fine.”
Whatever the doctor had shot me up with was working it’s magic, because I could feel myself slipping away again.
“Kenny?” I asked feebly, forcing my eyes open to look at Griffin again before I passed out. But I almost wished I hadn’t, because he’d schooled his face into that cold, hard, marble-like mask that he wore when he was protecting himself.
“He’s gone, Matt. Please get some sleep and focus on getting better, okay?” I heard the scape of a chair against the floor then Griffin’s hand gripping mine. “I’ll be right here.”
“He told me he didn’t give me up,” I said, remembering the look of fear and pain on Kenny’s face that night. “How did he know?” I felt a tear slip down my cheek, but I was too tired to try to wipe it away. “Why would he protect me?”
I’d been too late. Kenny was dead and it was all my fault.
Griffin didn’t seem to have an answer to my questions, so he just made useless shushing noises, wiping my tears away before starting to stroke my hair until I passed out again.
****
“Where the hell are we?” I asked as Griffin pushed my wheelchair out of the hospital.
