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ETHAN
I must be alive. I thought, grimacing in pain. I thought that because I was not in enough pain to be in hell.
“You awake?”
Wyatt?
I lifted my eyelids open only to shut them again due to the brightness.
“Hold on,” he whispered before I heard the blinds close. “Try again.”
Opening them again, I stared up at the ugly popcorn ceiling at first before trying to get up. “Don’t.” He pushed me back down. “I can’t have you popping a stitch.”
I reached to touch my side, feeling the padding on it. “Ivy? Where is she? Is she—”
“Drink,” he said, shoving a cup in my face.
“Ivy—”
“She’s resting. I’ve taken care of her, so drink.” He shoved the cup back at me.
Taking it, I drank, not realizing just how sore my throat was. Lying back on the couch, I closed my eyes, breathing slowly.
“She found you in time.”
“No, she didn’t,” he said softly.
Opening my eyes again and shifting my head to the side, I finally got a good look at him. He sat on the frame of what was once the coffee table beside me, slipping the cufflinks into the wrist of a light blue shirt.
“That was a gift,” I muttered, remembering the suit.
“For me.”
“For your birthday.” Panicking for a moment, I lifted my wrist to make sure two weeks hadn’t gone by.
“I’m taking it early this year,” he replied, finishing and finally glancing at me. “I saw how Elroy got in and out. I got only two questions. First, where are the guns? Second, do you have a plan I need to work within or am I ad libitum?”
Gripping my side again, I dropped my foot on the ground, and then the other one before sitting upright. “Elroy is mine—”
“I’m going to tell you something,” he cut me off once more, something he knew annoyed me, but from the look on his face I couldn’t find the will to argue. “You will…I need you to remember that right now your wife is sleeping, and she’s gone through a lot to make sure you didn’t die, so you’ll remain calm even though you want to die. You will not rip your stitches, you will not bleed over me again and go into shock, so I can help you get upstairs to her.”
I looked him in the eyes and he looked back, unwavering in whatever he was determined to tell me.
“The guns are under you. 4373. My plan…doesn’t matter now, so you’re ad libitum, but I want him alive…” I told him, watching as he rose off the frame, tossing it to the side before lifting up the rug to reveal the keypad. The vault split open wide, the guns and weapons rising up from the ground. He grabbed a few of the guns, putting them into…my shoulder holsters, under his arms, along with a pair of brass knuckles…
“Put those back. We didn’t send you to medical school so you could end up not being a doctor.” I smirked, leaning into the couch.
“You obviously didn’t hear me when I was performing a blood transfusion from myself to you, while operating to save your life.” He dropped the brass knuckles, reaching for knives. “But I promised, in front of your wife, that each time I hear one of your smartass comments I will remind you that not only did I save your life, brother, but I did so while giving you my blood.”
Closing the vault, he stood up, turning to me.
“That’s the second time you’ve brought Ivy into this conversation by force—”
“She had a miscarriage.”
For some reason everything went black. I looked to the side of me as if I expect to get some clarity.
“I don’t know when it started, or how long it went on for. She told me as she held on to your chest, sobbing—”
