Page 107 of Wicked Deceit
“How is she?” I blurt, startling them all out of their stupor.
Mrs. Cole immediately jumps to her feet, wrapping me in a tight hug. “We haven’t heard anything yet. They’re working to repair the damage of the stab wound,” she gasps out through quivering lips, barely getting the word ‘stab’ out without breaking down. Tears fill her eyes when she looks at me and checks me over for any damage.
“And Chase?” I ask, looking at Mr. Benoit. He gives me a tight smile, stroking more of Ainsley’s hair.
“He’s in recovery and has several second-degree burns, which will require skin grafts, but mostly, he’ll be okay. He’s in some pain, but it wasn’t as bad as they had initially thought.” he whispers.
My chest deflates—tiny amounts of tension leak off of me at their words. Half of them are okay, for now.
“There’s nothing more we can do right now, but wait,” Mrs. Cole says through a sigh, furrowing her brows. “Where is your shirt?” she asks, cocking her head to the side. Her eyes study the tattoos marking my chest and shoulders with furrowed brows, giving me her best motherly concern.
“Zepp was—they shot him—and I had to take it off. I—don’t know.” My fingertips run down my chest, and I shudder when goosebumps pucker my skin.
“Sit down,” Mrs. Cole says, pulling me into a chair. “I’m going to the store,” she whispers, grabbing her purse nearby.
“Mercy,” Mr. Cole says through an exhausted sigh, running a hand down his face. He stands, making his way to her, cupping her face in his palms, looking deep into her eyes. It instantly hits me how he looks at her with hearts in his eyes and worries for her well-being in his heart.
“I have to. There’s no sense in waiting around here. If I don’t get out of here and stretch, I will pace a hole in the carpet. I just—” He kisses her cheek, pulling her close to his body. I know exactly how he feels as he wraps his arms around her waist and buries his nose into her hair.
The way he holds her. The way his love emanates off of him—I get it. It’s how I feel about Kace and the others. Sure, I love her as my fucking future, but they are there, too. Chase will survive, maybe scarred. Kace will pull through without a fucking doubt, and so will Zepp, once he wakes up from his nap. But Carter? They shot him multiple times. Will our reluctant grumpy asshole make it out?
“Have you heard anything about Carter?” I ask, swallowing the growing lump in my throat.
“He’s in surgery. That’s all we know,” Mr. Cole says softly. “I’m sure we’ll find out more information soon. They’re all getting patched up, and they’ll be okay.” I swallow hard when he says the last phrase because it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s saying it to make me feel better, but I hear the underlying words he’s not saying.
No one is guaranteed tomorrow. No matter how hard you love them or need them in your life, they could still die. And that scares the shit out of me.
“Alright,” Mrs. Cole whispers, clapping her hands softly together. “I’ll be right back, okay? What size shirt do you wear? You need something. Oh dear, you need to shower,” she says, shaking her head with the ghost of a smile on her lips. “You can’t stay like that, not like last time. Remember? I had to kick you boys out to bathe and eat. You will not do that to yourself again, right? Take care of yourself, so when Kaycee recovers, her boyfriend is healthy. Okay?” Her motherly tone soothes me, and I nod in agreement.
I look down at my blood-stained hands and sigh. “Yes, Mrs. Cole. I’ll do that.” She grins again, lightly patting my cheek.
“Call me Mercy, and I hope you aren’t lying. There are showers around here somewhere. I’ll get you some supplies.” With one last wave, she disappears, leaving down the hall on her mission to get me clothes.
“You good, kid?” Mr. Cole asks, sitting back in his chair with a tired groan. I give him another nod, settling back into the chair, too. Letting my eyes close for the second time tonight, I wait on pins and needles for news about my friends.
*******
A hand thumps my chest, jolting me out of a nice fucking dream pertaining to a certain girl. But reality crashes down on me, bringing me back to the sounds of the hospital alive around me. I grunt, peeling my tired eyes open, and squint at the smug asshole beside me.
“Fucker,” I hiss, wiping at my eyes. My heart squeezes in my chest at the sight of him up and moving and smiling at me.
“You were snoring, didn’t think you’d want everyone to hear,” Zepp says through a strained smile.
“They let you out?” My voice comes out as a husky rasp.
“About an hour ago.” He nods toward the sling covering his right arm. “I have to wear this and try to keep it immobile.” He frowns, slumping back into the seat. “Any word on the others?” As he asks his question, Kaycee’s mom strolls back into the waiting room, looking as refreshed as ever with a small, satisfied smile. It’s the same smile Kaycee gives when she’s been up to something.
“Yes,” she says, standing in front of us. “News on all of them. Kaycee’s surgery was successful. They had to go in and fix her up around the knife wound.” Her eyes well with tears at the mention of the knife, but she forges on, reining in her emotions. “Her body went through a lot of trauma, so they’ve placed her in a medically induced coma to help with the healing process and the brain swelling.” She lays a hand on each of our arms, squeezing us in reassurance.
“A coma,” I croak, running a hand through my hair. Tears prickle the back of my eyes, and a burn takes over the tip of my nose when the wetness coats my lashes and falls down my cheeks. “A coma?” I repeat, looking up at her for confirmation.
“Just for about two weeks,” she whispers, rubbing over her heart. “She’ll be fine,” she says like she’s trying to reassure everyone else that Kaycee will live through this.
“But she’ll be okay?” Zepp asks, wincing when he accidentally jolts his arm.
“Not out of danger yet, boys. The next two weeks will be very vital. Kace lost a lot of blood.” She swallows hard, clamping her eyes shut. “Her heart stopped on the table twice, and they didn’t think...” I put my hand on hers without hesitation, still resting on my arm.
“She’s a fighter,” I rasp through a quivering lip.
