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“No, it has to be you. He’s going to want to know you’re here. You go.”
Everyone nods, and I have to push back a sob. This is why he’s so kind; these are the people he’s surrounded by.
Damien follows behind me as we follow the nurse but when she opens the door, he doesn’t come in. “Go,” he whispers.
I take a deep breath, and step in, bracing myself for what I’m going to see. But it’s not enough. He has wires and tubes coming out of every part of his body. And although he’s sleeping, he looks pained.
“Kylian, it’s me. Kiki.” I touch his arm, careful not to touch any of the tubes. “I met Matthias. You’re right, he’s funny. And Nathan is here. We miss you. Wake up so we can talk, okay? They’re teasing you in the other room, you have to wake up and get them all back.”
One tear drops on his hospital gown and I take a step back.
“He’s gone, Kylian. Frank’s bullets got him right in the heart. I wasn’t even really sure he had one. But he’s gone. You… you kept your promise. You told me he’d never hurt me again. He’s gone. And we don’t ever have to think about him ever again.”
I wipe away a tear.
“Wake up. Please. Wake up. Don’t leave me here. I need you. I need you to tell me that I’m being a brat. And I need you to come to Tuesdays at Amber with me. I can’t go alone. I need someone I can tease about their obvious tell. I need you to be here with me. I don’t know how to do all this without you. Please. Wake up.”
But he doesn’t.
So, I say it again.
And again.
Until the nurse tells me he needs to rest.
And then, I say it in my head, and hope wherever he is, he can hear me.
forty-three
Kylian
I’ve been hit by a tank.
Fallen under one of its tracks and every part of my body crushed to dust.
My brain smooshed to a pancake.
That’s the only explanation for how I feel.
That and my eyes popped like grapes because they’re not working right now. All I can see is white haze. It’s pretty but it doesn’t help me figure out where the fuck I am.
“Ugh,” I groan. What the fuck? Now I hurt even more. Something inside me burns like I’ve swallowed a cyanide pill.
But please, that wouldn’t happen to me, I’d be an amazing spy. Bond has nothing on me. I chuckle. And it’s a big mistake.
“Ahh! Ow!” And somehow making those sounds hurts even more.
“Stop moving. Fucking hell, you’re like a child who can’t sit still.”
Kiara.
Kiara!
I squint, trying to focus. Now there’s a Kiara shape standing to my side and I‘ll take it.
“Kiara,” I whisper. But can’t say anything more. Speaking, breathing hurts.
“Don’t talk. I know that sounds impossible, but you have to try. Your trachea got hurt and if you talk too much, you might tear the injury.
