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Luckily, I have extra liners and socks, but I’m afraid to remove them. If it starts bleeding out, I won’t be able to get my prosthetic back on to drive. So instead, I take a bag with me and pull out my stash of narcotic pain meds that I keep with me at all times. I haven’t taken them in years, but I’ve found comfort in keeping them close in the event I ever need them.
Today’s going to be that day.
As soon as I arrive at the hospital, I pop two pills, then call Easton.
“Hey, I’m in town at Memorial. I got shot.”
“Jesus Christ, man. Are you okay? What happened?”
“Jack found her. I’ll explain more later. Piper was taken by ambulance after she nearly drowned. She’s okay, but I made her get looked at just in case.” My brother knows what water can do to the lungs from surfing so much.
“Wait, how’d you get there?”
“I drove.”
He chuckles in disbelief. “So you get shot and then drive yourself to the hospital? Why am I not even a little surprised?”
“Because you know I’m a stubborn ass.”
“Are you gonna see a doctor at least?”
“Yes, but first I need to call the Montgomerys, then check on Piper. But just thought I’d let you know what’s going on.”
“Appreciate that. Text me with an update. I’ll come if you need me to.”
“Will do.”
After we hang up, I ring Mr. Montgomery, but he doesn’t answer. Next, I call Mrs. Montgomery, and she doesn’t pick up either. Instead of waiting for either of them, I find the nurses’ station and inform them of who I am.
“We’ve contacted her parents already. They’re en route.”
“Oh okay. What room is she in?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to see her,” the nurse tells me with an apologetic expression. “Her parents have requested no visitors until they arrive.”
“But I’m her bodyguard.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Belvedere. You’ll have to wait to get permission from them.”
“She’s over eighteen!” I argue.
“I understand that, but you’re not family.” She shrugs and doesn’t say anything else.
“Fine. I need someone to look at my wound, please. My prosthetic got hit with a bullet, and the socket is filling with blood.”
Her eyes widen as she lowers her gaze. “You got shot?”
“Yes. I don’t think it went through, but it burns.” Hell, it feels like it’s being crushed too.
She grabs the phone and calls out a code. Soon, another nurse comes with a wheelchair and brings me to an exam room. I explain my situation and the details of what happened. As I slip off my prosthetic, blood flows down my limb.
“You’re lucky. Looks like it just nicked you on the inside of your knee. No bullet hole.”
I look down in shock as she cleans it up. “How the hell is that possible?”
I felt it hit my socket. I felt the pressure against my skin.
“You were in distress, which can magnify your injuries and pain,” she offers when I explain what happened.
Blinking, I wonder if that’s possible. PTSD can cause the brain to play tricks on you.
The only solution I have is maybe my phantom pains were triggered by the shot. It felt extreme but resulted in a less serious injury than I thought.
While I’m confused as hell, I’m also grateful it’s not worse.
“I’ll bring the doctor in to look before I wrap you up. He’ll probably prescribe you some antibiotics and pain medication if you need it,” she explains.
I use that time to text Easton.
Tristan: Nurse says I’ll live, but I haven’t been allowed to see Piper.
Easton: Why the hell not?
Tristan: Her parents said no visitors, and I’m not family, so now I have to wait until they fly in.
Easton: When will that be?
Tristan: Who knows. No one will tell me anything. I’ll probably need you to pick me up, though, since I won’t be able to wear my prosthesis out of here.
My residual limb will need to heal before I can put it back on. Thankfully, I’ll still be able to use the socket until I can get a replacement. However, I hate using a wheelchair and feeling powerless, but it’s a necessary evil being an amputee. My biggest fear is losing mobility and being stuck in a chair. Just the thought gives me intense anxiety.
Ten minutes later, the doctor introduces himself and says he wants an X-ray just to be sure. Since there are a lot of skin grafts and scars, he needs an inside view. I agree since I’ll be waiting for the Montgomerys for a couple more hours anyway. Once the results come back, he confirms there’s no internal damage. I’m wrapped up and discharged.
As soon as I’m wheeled back to the waiting area, I only think about getting to Piper.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TRISTAN
I’ve impatiently sat in the waiting room for the past two hours, and I still haven’t heard any updates about Piper nor have I seen her parents. My mind is going wild with thoughts on how she must be feeling that I’m not there with her. I can’t predict how her parents will react. I wish I could tell them what really happened before they hear a washed-down version from the staff.
