Page 109 of Wicked Deceit
I snort, darting my eyes toward the door. It’s been the same thing every day since he woke up. They should have strapped him down to the rails to deter him from making a break for it every chance. But I’m sure he’d still find a way to chew through the straps if they did. Nothing has stopped him from coming in here and watching her rest with an eagle’s protective eye. No matter how exhausted he is, he pushes through it and doesn’t stop until Mrs. Cole forces him back to bed every night. It’s the same routine day in and day out, so I’m not quite sure why the nurse continues to yell at him. They all know by now that he won’t stay in his room, and they’ll rejoice the day he gets discharged and probably throw a massive party.
I bark a laugh when Carter stumbles into the room with his hospital gown wide open at the back and a colorless face. He grunts breathlessly, leaning against his IV stand on wheels, gasping for air like he just broke out of his prison cell.
“Dude, did you forget your boxers again?” Chase asks mockingly, pointing toward his open gown before staring at his playing cards.
Carter frowns in a panic. His eyes widen when he twists his body, looking down at his ass. Relief slumps his rigid body, and he growls when his eyes land on his ass, flipping Chase the bird. He mutters a few colorful words in Chase’s direction while attempting to catch his breath.
Flashbacks of Carter’s first time running down the hallway after he had escaped his room come to mind, and I snicker to myself. Much to his horror, he had forgotten his boxers, giving the entire nursing staff a view of his ass. We didn’t blink an eye when he waltzed in, completely naked under his open hospital gown, but the hospital staff threw an enormous fit, pointing their fingers at him and lecturing him.
“No,” he huffs breathlessly, “I didn’t forget my damn boxers.”
“Again,” Chase prods in a sing-song voice.
“For fuck’s sakes, Elf Ears, that was one time,” Carter grumbles, stumbling over his feet when he takes a step forward, eyeing the couch with longing. I roll my eyes at his stubbornness, tossing my good arm around his shoulders, and I help him inside the room.
“Leave him alone. They doped him up on some super fucking good pain meds. Remember, he told us he loved us.” Seger smirks, earning the middle finger from Carter, who shoves his face into his hand with an exasperated sigh. He more than likely regrets his decision of coming down here so soon.
“Whatever I said, I didn’t fucking mean.” A pain-filled groan slips from his lips when he lowers himself onto the tiny couch and slumps breathless again.
“You love us, Grumpy. It’s okay,” Chase sniggers, looking over his handful of cards.
Carter runs a hand down his pale face, huffing a breath. “You think if I make him disappear anyone will notice?” Carter murmurs to me as his eyes lock on Kaycee.
Her blonde hair lays like a halo around her head like an earthly angel suspended in limbo, waiting for the moment she can return. Throughout her coma, she twitched and whimpered, making us wonder what was going through her mind. We’ve had countless one-sided conversations with her, trying to reassure her it was all over. Her nightmare was done, and she did it. She exposed the people responsible for Magnolia’s death. She won. We won. And more importantly, we survived to tell the tale.
“I heard that, shithead,” Chase mutters, getting back to his very heated game of go fish.
“Mr. Cunningham!” A red-faced nurse huffs, storming into the room. She glares down at Carter like he’s the devil’s spawn. “You can’t walk out of your room whenever you want! You’re supposed to be resting.” She points her finger at him, waggling it in his irritated face. “They shot you four times in the chest, Mr. Cunningham. You need to stay in bed!”
Carter’s recovery has been a little more intense. He laid in bed unconscious for four whole days after his surgery, and we weren’t sure if he was going to survive at all. Although the four bullets that went straight through his chest didn’t bounce around inside of him, he still had extensive damage and significant blood loss. He had laid on the house floor for several minutes before he could escape. Since he woke up, he has wanted to be here in Kaycee’s room every day, especially today, because today is the day. The day we’ve all been waiting for—the two-week mark.
“Eleanor,” Chase says in a soft voice, gaining the nurse’s attention.
Her hand drops from its position as she fully turns to Chase. Every ounce of anger leaves her face, and her whole body relaxes. She smiles at him, making googly eyes like he’s a damn angel sent from God. I swear, no matter how young or old women are, he charms the pants off them with a single look. It never fails when he turns on the Benoit Charm.
“Today’s the day,” he says softly, walking across the room with a pained swagger.
She sighs, nodding her head. She casts Kaycee a sad look, eyes brimming with tears. “Fine,” she says in a small voice. “But you boys make sure he stays put! He needs to rest if he ever wants to get out of here.” With one last firm nod, she stomps out of the room with a huff and shuts the door behind her.
“Smooth, man,” I say, sitting down next to Carter and running a hand down my face. I stare forward, looking over at our girl and taking her in.
Sometimes, I half expected her to shoot up from the hospital bed with a grin, telling me she is joking. That this whole situation didn’t end like this, and she’s okay. It’s wishful thinking. It never happens, but I need something to grasp onto right now or I’ll lose my damn mind.
The past two weeks have been literal hell for us. Since the Maze House burnt to a crisp, we’ve been dealing with insurance and trying to get our shit in order. Our only option has been to stay with our dad. And between coming here every day, waiting on Carter’s injuries, and Chase’s, we’ve been going out of our minds with worry. Seger and I have been here every day, checking on them, although Mrs. Cole has pushed us out a few times for showers and took us to get dinner. It’s been an odd bonding experience for us and Kace’s parents. Her dad seems to like us now, which is good because once she’s awake and better, I’m never taking my eyes off her.
“You think she’ll be okay?” Carter murmurs.
“After everything she’s been through, I think she’ll wake up and be okay. She’s so tough.” Or I hope she will be.
We will have to deal with the fallout of this whole situation, but eventually, we’ll have to testify in court and tell the feds all the information we gathered. Not to mention the mental and physical traumas, too. When a person goes through something like she did, it stays with them their whole life. Kaycee was almost beaten to death and stabbed, and so much more that hasn’t been said, but Carter refuses to tell us everything. I can only assume the rest of what she endured was something out of a nightmare. I didn’t go through as much as her. I was shot and watched everyone around me fall, and I still have night terrors. When she gets out of her coma, I can't imagine what she will go through.
“Boys.”
My neck snaps toward Mrs. Cole as she floats into the room like an angel with a warm and inviting smile.
“Oh, honey, what on earth are you doing out of bed again?” She clucks her tongue at Carter, moving around the room to greet us with a small hug. Carter grumbles something unintelligible at her, but his eyes light up at the sight of her. He can pretend all day long he doesn’t like the motherly attention she gives him, but it’d be a lie. Whenever she hugs him or chastises him for being out of bed, a small smile tilts his lips in appreciation.
“Leave him be, Mercy,” Mr. Cole grumbles, walking behind her. He gives us each a nod, moving straight to Kaycee’s bedside and placing a kiss on her temple.
