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"We gotta go," I said, jumping off the couch.
Lip got up, lacing his fingers in mine, and we headed towards the door.
"If you need anything, call me," Sonia said, hugging me tightly.
I nodded, feeling too heavy to say another word, as I walked out the door and headed to what possibly could have been the beginning of the darkness known as my life.
We drove in silence to the hospital, both of us consumed in our own thoughts.
When we got to the hospital, Lip turned the ignition, his knuckles white from fisting the steering wheel. "He's not dead."
Those three words echoed nonstop in my mind. He's not dead.
"He'll be fine," Lip said, squeezing my hand. "It's Jack. Nothin's gonna hold him down. He'll be fine."
I nodded, trying to hold back the tears. "It's Jack. He'll be fine."
I felt the bile rise in my throat as we got off the elevator for the Intensive Care Unit. Watching all the doctors and nurses with their gloves and masks made me realize how serious all this was.
Lip dragged us to the nurses' station before demanding someone help us. "I need to know what room Jackson McGrath is in."
"Are you family?"
"Yes, my name is Phillip Sullivan" Lip said without hesitation.
"He's in room 501. Please wait outside the room, and someone will come and see you."
Lip turned to me. "Let's go."
We waited outside Jack's room for what felt like an eternity. I kept trying to peek in, but the blinds were drawn, and I couldn't get a glimpse of Jack. Being so close to him and not being able to see him was killing me.
"What's taking so long?" Lip asked as he paced back and forth in front of me. I'd never seen Lip like this; he was always the one under control, confident, so sure of himself.
I walked up to him, grabbing his head in my hands. "It will be okay."
"It's drivin' me crazy not knowing anything. Like, is this shit normal, making loved ones wait to hear news? What kind of bullshit is this? Someone should've told us what was goin' on the minute we walked up to that desk."
"Phillip Sullivan?" a middle-aged woman in a white coat asked. "I'm Doctor Smith, Mr. McGrath's doctor."
"Yes, that's me."
"Good news is that Mr. McGrath is going to be fine. The swelling is down, and there are no major injuries or trauma. He's going to be good as new with a little TLC."
When you feel real relief, it's an exciting emotion. It's like you're falling down a dark hole, and you know the landing will be hard and fast, but then all of a sudden, you feel a cushion beneath you. I didn't realize just how worried and devastated I was until I heard the doctor tell us that Jack would be fine. "Can we see him?" I asked.
"Yes. I think he might like to see some familiar faces. When he woke up, he asked for Lip and Joey."
Chapter 8
LIP
"You're never allowed to ride that bike again," Joey said the minute we walked into Jack's hospital room.
Jack laughed, winced, and grabbed his side. "Damn, sweetheart, you aren't even gonna cut me a break when I'm an invalid lying in a hospital bed?"
Joey ran up to him, kissed him on the cheek, and then proceeded to examine every inch of him that she could see. "No, 'cause you put yourself here. Why didn't anyone call us?"
"I lost my wallet. They didn't even know who I was until I woke up and told them my name. That's when they called Lip." Jack turned to look at me. "You gonna stand there, or you gonna come say hi?"
"Not really sure if I wouldn't kill you right now."
Jack patted the other side of the bed. "Come on."
As I got closer to him, the rage I felt seemed to fall away, replaced by relief. "You're a fuckin' idiot, but man, I'm so glad you're okay."
"I'm sorry," Jack said, looking between Joey and me. "I know I was a complete asshole. I've got some shit to deal with, but laying here, knowing what happened because of my own stupidity, I know that I'm gonna try harder not to be a fuckin' asshole."
"I can't keep doing this," I said.
"What?" both Joey and Jack said in union.
"What the fuck do you mean you can't do this?" Joey demanded. "This is us. We only work as the three of us. What do you mean, Lip?"
"If you stop asking questions, maybe I can answer you," I said. "I meant that I can't keep doing this shit with Jack running away." I turned to look Jack directly in the eyes. I needed him to know that what I said next was for him. "I love you. I've loved you since I was four years old in one way or another. The idea of losing you and Joey is enough to make me feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. You can't pull this shit anymore."
