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There was no telling what damage she would be left with if she survived this. The surgeon had promised me that he would do everything he could to help her, but he couldn’t make any promises. There was too much blood, and the bullet ripped through her stomach—ripped right through her fucking organ.
She would have a hard time recovering. I knew that much. But I’d be there every step of the way, even if she didn’t want me to be. Ihadto. Not only because I was responsible for what the fuck happened, but also because Aaliyah was it for me. She was mine.
My Red.
“Doc know what was hit?” Trigger asked me.
I scratched at the stubble on my jaw, hating the scratchy feel. I hadn’t shaved this morning after the shit with Wendy went down, and the stubble was irritating the fuck out of my skin. Normally, I was clean-shaved.
“Ripped through her stomach.”
He winced, and I had to bite back a scowl. The fuck was he wincing for? He wasn’t the one that had gotten shot. “Fuck,” he whispered.
I nodded in agreement, biting back my irritation. We all knew how much gunshot wounds hurt. They were a bitch to deal with and recover from. But none of us had taken one to the gut. So, we could only imagine how she would feel when she woke up.
And I knew it wouldn’t be pleasant. She was going to be in a shit ton of pain.
I leaned forward and braced my elbows on my knees, lacing my fingers together in front of me. “She was trying to protect me.” A bitter laugh spilled from my lips, and I shook my head in frustration at her, me—this entire fucking situation. Rage pulsed through my veins, spreading like lava from a volcanic eruption. Despite knowing that Wendy was going to suffer in prison, which was the best punishment possible for her, I still wanted to put a bullet through her skull. “She was worried about me getting hurt, and she took that fucking bullet because of it.”
Trigger clapped a hand to my shoulder. “Try not to think about it too much. Guilt can turn some of the best men into train wrecks, and you need a strong head on your shoulders, Prez. Let’s just wait until she wakes up and go from there, yeah?”
I blew out a harsh breath and nodded my head. “Yeah, I hear you,” I muttered.
But that shit was easier said than done.
I was already turning into a damn train wreck. I just hadn’t let them see it yet.
A surgeon dressed in ugly, pale green scrubs stepped out of the back. “Aaliyah Fields,” he called, following hospital protocol. He knew us well, and he was always our go-to surgeon. The man has even flown back from vacation once to operate on Blayke.
I quickly stood to my feet and made my way to him. Trigger and Geek stayed seated, letting me talk to the doctor in private, which I was thankful for. They hadn’t given me a moment of peace since they’d gotten there, though I knew they were only being annoying solely to keep me out of my head, which had worked. The surgeon gestured for me to follow him, and eventually, we stepped into a consultation room. He shut the door before taking a seat at the table, gesturing for me to do the same.
He waited until I was sitting before he began speaking. “She’s alive,” he started. I scrubbed my hands down my face, relief flooding my veins. My shoulders sagged like a trillion-ton weight had been lifted off. “Her recovery is going to be rough, Johnston. She took a bullet and managed to survive a shot that would have usually killed anyone else. Blayke is theonlyreason she’s alive because he was able to plug that wound.”Perks of his combat medic training, no doubt. “I’m going to keep her here for a while, if you’re comfortable footing that bill.”
I nodded—no hesitation on my part. “I don’t give a damn about the bill. It’ll be paid.” And that was the truth. I’d pay any cost to keep her alive, to save her life.
He nodded once. “Didn’t think you would. She’s undergoing a blood transfusion at the moment. She lost a shit ton of blood. Medication is going into her bloodstream through an IV to help prevent infections while she’s healing and to help reduce her pain levels. She is, thankfully, breathing on her own. The nasogastric tube should come out in a day or two. I just want to make sure we get everything out of her stomach—blood, air.”
I nodded, swallowing thickly. “When can I see her?” I was damn desperate at this point. Though he’d assured me she was alive, I needed to see her breathing for myself. It was the only way I’d completely calm the hell down.
Aaliyah was the only person—onlything—in this world capable of keeping me completely sane. Even weed didn’t have that calming effect on me that she did.
He checked his watch. “I can take you to the recovery area now, and I’ll let the nurse know not to bother you until she’s being moved to a room where she’ll finish her recovery. Not our normal protocol, but with the amount of money you donate to this hospital every year, we can make some exceptions.”
At least all that money I put into this place was good for something. I’d selfishly done it to keep some big corporation from buying it up and making it hard for the employees to turn a blind eye to us when we came in bloody, beaten, and shot. Good to know my selfishness finally went to something good.
He stood, and I followed him out of the room. We went down a few halls, and then he opened a door before leading me over to Aaliyah’s hospital bed.
Her face was extremely pale, and she was lying deathly still. Honestly, if her chest wasn’t slowly rising and falling, I’d have thought she was dead. Her red hair was a dirty, tangled mess. Pain lanced through my chest, and I clenched my jaw, reaching forward to grab her hand in mine. It was cool to the touch, but the steady and slow rise and fall of her chest let me know she was still alive.
She hadn’t left me.
“He goes where she goes,” the surgeon quietly told the nurse sitting there, monitoring Aaliyah’s vitals.
She nodded. “Understood, Dr. Quin.”
Dr. Quin held his hand out to me, and I quickly shook it with my free hand, not even giving a shit that it wasn’t my right hand like it was supposed to be. We all knew I wasn’t an upstanding citizen. Couldn’t expect my handshake to be much better.
His lips quirked in amusement. “Thank you for everything you did for her,” I quietly told him.
