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“Sasha?” My voice cracks, my throat raw and painful, as if a cat tried to claw it’s way out, leaving dozens of gashes behind.
“Mitch, sweetie. Don’t move.” She puts a warm hand on my shoulder, looking down at me with a concerned expression.
“What’s—? Why are you here?” I move to sit up and gasp, the air sucked right out of my body. Fire rips through my chest, literally so painful I fear that I might tear in half.
“Shhhhh, stay still. Oh fuck,” I hear her say. My eyes squeeze shut as I struggle to hold back a scream. A loud beep is followed by Sasha shouting. “Hello? Can someone get the hell in here?”
“Jesus, Sasha, it fucking hurts…” I groan, panting. Sweat trickles down the side of my face to the pillow beneath my head. “What the fuck…? Mom? Dad?” I’m struck dumb by the sight of my parents hovering over me. “But you—? Fuck!” Agony crashes through my body, nearly causing me to black out from the intensity. This time, I can’t hold back the scream.
Underneath the searing pain, something ice cold enters a vein in my arm. Then… bliss.
* * *
“I don’t care, Robert. The truth doesn’t matter. Either way he’s our son.”
“So you’re okay with it, Phillipa?”
“I don’t have to be okay with it, Robert. It’s not my decision to make.”
“Mom? Dad? Can you fight somewhere else?” I attempt to joke even though my body is aching and weary and I would give an arm right now for a sip of water.
“Mitch!” My mom hurries over to the side of my bed, gently pushing my hair off my forehead. “How do you feel, love?”
“Like shit. What happened?” I cough and wince, the fire in my chest returning, but not nearly as bad as before.
“Oh love,” my mom’s eyes begin to fill with tears.
“Phillipa, let me talk to him,” a gentle voice says from behind my mom.
“We’ll go get coffee,” my dad respond, his tone abrupt.
“Sasha?” My former coworker takes a seat in the worn blue chair next to my bed. She looks beautiful, even surrounded by the hideous hospital lighting.
“Hey, Mitch.” She puts her hand over mine, squeezing gently. “You were shot in the chest.” Sasha’s eyes begin to glisten. She works hard to blink them into submission, probably not wanting to damage her reputation as a hard-ass.
“Shot?” I gasp. “By who? When?”
She shrugs. “Most likely by Gavin’s stalker. They didn’t catch him, Mitch. You’re lucky to be alive. The bullet glanced off a rib. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now. You had surgery four days ago and this is the first time you’ve been awake for any length of time.”
“Fuck, four days,” I whisper. “Where’s Gavin? He must be going out of his mind!”
Sasha’s kind face crumples and she looks away.
“Sasha,” I growl. “Where is he?”
“I’m sorry, Mitch. He went home.”
“What the hell do you mean, home? He wouldn’t do that. He has to be here.” Agitated, I try to get up out of bed, setting off a half-dozen machines and nearly throwing up from the pain.
“Stop it, Mitch. I’ll explain if you stop!” Sasha sounds panicked and fuck, it hurts so much. I let her push me back down on the bed.
“Fine. Tell me,” I growl.
“He didn’t know what had happened, that you had been shot,” she begins. “I couldn’t call him because no one had his number. I only found out you were at the hospital because I called your phone and your mom answered. When Gavin called after that, he came straight here.”
“If he came to the hospital, why isn’t he still here? I don’t understand. The tour should be over. He’d want to be here.” None of this makes sense. I’m teetering on the edge of a cliff. On one side is the pain threatening to bring me to my knees. On the other is my heart, hovering over a canyon to be smashed on the sharp rocks below.
Sasha pulls out her phone, typing something on the screen. Before she shows it to me, she explains. “Now Mitch, you have to know that Gavin was here and he was destroyed at the sight of you.” I wince at the thought of him sitting vigil for me. “He did this for you, thinking it was safer. That it was for the best.”
