Page 122 of Keep Your Guard Up
“Wh-Wh …” I sputtered.
JJ sighed and looked up at the ceiling. I would have thought he was putting on the theatrics, if I hadn’t seen the single tear that slid down his far cheek.
He sat on the bed, lifting my clean hands into his. There was a cannula on my right hand, and two heavy gold rings on my left.
One was a sleek gold band, with patterns on it that were giving me a deja vu. The other, I’d recognise anywhere. The band thickened at the peak of my finger then dropped slightly for the engraving of letters.
DCM
M
An extra ‘M’ had been tagged beneath the initials of Chance’s family. My heart swelled and my throat closed up. I looked to find JJ staring down at the rings, his jaw locked tight, lips tucked to the side.
“He took a pretty brutal shot to the gut,” JJ mumbled, clearing his throat. “Docs said they would do everything they could, but that there were no guarantees.”
“That was three hours ago,” Al chimed in gently.
I slipped my hands from JJ’s and pushed myself up. My ribs ached and my shoulders throbbed, but I needed to go. I needed to get to him.
“What’re you doing?” JJ asked.
My head felt as if someone had blown up a too-big balloon inside my skull.
“Take me to him.” I lifted a leg to slide off the side of the bed, gritting my teeth at the agony it delivered into my ribs.
“Lynnie, he’s in surgery. Ican’t.” His voice broke.
“Then I can’t sit here and wait. Take me as far as you can,” I demanded. A groan slipped past my lips, but I was sitting up.
“Mari.” Al placed a firm hand on my shoulder and gently tugged. “You won’t be any good to him if you don’t get yourself sorted.”
“But—”
“No ‘buts,” he stated. “I told the same thing to your dad. Many times.”
That hit me in the gut as hard as Randy’s boot. I sighed and nodded to JJ, who scooped an arm under my knee and lifted my legs back onto the bed for me.
“Where’s Nan?” I asked.
“Right here.” Her sing-song voice floated in like a ray of sunshine as her head popped around the door. Her face filled with relief, though I could see the mascara smudges behind her glasses. Her long hair was out, tucked behind her ears that were, for once, earring-less. Wearing a pair of navy blue three-quarter length sweatpants and a loose grey T-shirt, I don’t think I’d ever seen my grandmother look so casual.
Tears stung my eyes at the sight of her, and she let out a choked laugh as she pushed the door open. My father trailed in behind her. His big smile was nearly as lively as Nan’s, until he cast a glance over my tenderly sore face. No matter how unwell he was, he was stillElijahTrevino—one of the scariest fighters to ever walk the octagon. His eyes darkened to that murderous black I knew as well as looking in a mirror.
“Hi, Dad,” I whispered.
~
“Lynnie. Lynnie, psst, wake up.” A frantic shaking of my non-injured shoulder had me startling awake.
“Shit, JJ.” I rubbed at my eyes, urging my heart to slow the fuck down.
I’m okay.
I’m still okay.
It was just JJ.
“Sorry, Lynnie. But we’re sneaking outta here,” JJ whispered, looking over his shoulder to the sleeping crew at my bedside. “Now be quiet before you get us caught again.”
