Page 72 of Every Sunset
“I’m here, Max. I’m fine now,” I tried to reassure him. I had been checked over when I arrived at the hospital. My ribs were x-rayed, but they were just bruised, not fractured. Other than that I had some other bruises and a few scrapes and cuts. I’d been a little low on oxygen and doctors had wanted to keep me over night to monitor me after I had been drowned, but I had declined that offer quickly. I needed to be with my son and my guys. Reluctantly, they’d discharged me with instructions of symptoms I needed to be watchful for, because of the water I’d taken into my lungs. Thankfully, my son had missed all of that though, and he’d calmed a lot when I walked out and assured him the doctors had cleared me. It was another lie and I hated telling it, but Max was shaken up enough, and I was sure I’d be fine.
My body ached from being thrown around and my throat and chest felt raw and painful with every breath, as well as my ribs which jolted me with the agony of every miniscule movement, but it really was the least of my worries with Maddox fighting or his life, Max terrified and traumatized, and Logan falling to pieces.
“I…I did CPR. I c-could hear Logan and the guy fighting in the water, but I blocked it out. My mom…I had to get my mom back,” Max went on.
“Do you know what happened between Logan and Callum?” the agent asked.
“Not really,” Max shrugged. “The splashing stopped and everything went quiet, then Logan was yelling at me as he ran to Maddox, telling me to talk to him, but I…I couldn’t. I was s-so scared.”
“I think that’s enough,” I told the agent as I wrapped my arm around Max and pulled him in for a half hug. He was doing amazing at being strong, but he was badly shaken by what had happened and I didn’t want him being put through any more. “Max revived me then and I’ve told you everything that happened after that. Logan saved my life, and likely my son’s too. Callum, or whatever his real name was, was there to kill us. We wouldn’t be here now if Logan hadn’t done what he did,” I added angrily. I already knew Logan had drowned Callum in that water, just the way the monster had drowned me just moments before. I’d overheard Logan tell the agents that, when he’d been giving his statement. He and Callum had struggled in the water and Logan had over powered him and drowned him. He really had saved our lives – of that I had no doubt.
“That’s not in question here, miss Hart. We just need accurate statements from everyone before we can file our reports,” the agent told me.
“Well if that’s all you need I’d like to get back upstairs to the waiting room. Maddox should be out of surgery soon,” I told her.
“Of course. We may contact you with further questions at a later time, but you can go for now,” she agreed.
I jumped up immediately and grabbed Max’s hand, pulling him after me as I sped as fast as I could from the room we’d been in and around to the elevator. I felt unsteady on my feet, and the fast movements were a bad idea with bruised ribs, but nothing was stopping me from getting back to Madd and Logan,
“How are you doing, honey?” I asked as I waited impatiently for the elevator.
“I’m good, mom. You’re the one who died!” he snapped.
“I didn’t die though. You brought me back, and I’m fine. The doctor said I was good to go, didn’t he?” I pushed.
“Please never try to leave me again, okay? I can’t lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.
Finally, the elevator arrived and we both stepped in. I was fidgety as we waited for the climb to the third floor, anxious to get back to Logan and check on him, and completely terrified about what the doctor would tell us when he next came to update us on Maddox.
“Madd will be okay, mom. He’s the toughest guy I think I ever met,” Max told me as the elevator finally landed on our floor.
“You’re right,” I agreed with a nod, and I tried hard to believe it too. I had to. The alternative would leave me shattered intomillions of pieces and that wasn’t an option right then. Max and Logan needed me to hold it together.
***
I was relieved to find Max asleep when I walked into the waiting room of the intensive care unit. We had been there for so many hours that I’d lost count, ever since Maddox came out of surgery and was moved there for close observation.
The bullet that hit Madd’s abdomen had ricocheted around and caused a ton of internal bleeding. His surgery had been almost six hours long and the surgeon had explained to us that there were still no guarantees when he spoke to us afterwards, but he also assured us that Maddox was stable for the time being.
We were all exhausted. Logan had tried to tell me and Max to go home but there was no way I was leaving him or Maddox, and after what happened, Max refused to leave me, so we were all still there, running on fumes, just waiting for Madd to wake up.
Max had been dead on his feet when I sent him to at least lie down in the waiting room. That was why I was so relieved to see him resting and looking peaceful. I grabbed the coat that Cat had brought for me and draped it over my son, wanting him to sleep for as long as possible. Luckily, it was late and the small waiting room seemed little used, so I was pretty confident Max wouldn’t be interrupted.
We were at least all now in clean, warm, and dry clothes. I had called Cat and told her what happened, asking her to collect us all some things from the house and bring them to us. She and Tate had been by just an hour later, with everything we all needed and some much needed comfort from friends. They’d stayed with us all for a couple of hours and even offered to bring Max and I home to stay at their place for the night before theyleft, but we were going nowhere. Cat and Tate had promised to return the next day, and I was glad for it. It was new, but wonderful to have friends who actually cared, and I felt all of us would need those friends in the coming weeks.
Satisfied that Max was settled, I left the waiting room, closing the door quietly behind me, then walked back down the corridor to Maddox’s room. Logan was exactly where he had been for the last five hours – seated in an uncomfortable plastic chair on the right side of Maddox’s bed, loosely holding his hand and just watching him almost unblinkingly.
“Is Max okay?” he asked me quietly, though he didn’t look at me. He’d been making an effort to talk to Max and I a little, in the last few hours, seeming to have come out of the fearful daze he’d been trapped in before, but he still couldn’t take his eyes from his brother, and he was nothing like the Logan we knew. He looked exhausted and pale. He hadn’t touched any of the food I’d brought him, and I’d only convinced him to drink some water because I had broken down, unable to hold it back, and cried a little because I was so worried about him.
“He’s asleep down the hall. He was exhausted,” I replied as I sat in the other hard chair opposite Logan, at Maddox’s other side.
Maddox was laid in the bed, hooked up to monitors and I.V. bags with tubes that seemed to run everywhere. The machines beeped and made noises constantly and there was the hum of the blood pressure cuff being inflated every half hour like clockwork. Apart from a bruise on the left side of his face, Maddox looked unharmed, but he was so pale and the stillness of him was terrifying. All I wanted him to do was open his eyes and scold Logan and I for looking so worried about him, just the way I knew he would if he could see us.
“So are you. You need to rest too,” he told me flatly.
“I could say the same to you,” I pointed out.
