Page 49 of Trained Royal
“Kieren! Move, for god’s sake.I need to put pressure on this before you lose too much blood.”
Kieren tried to lift his hand to press his earpiece, but he couldn’t. He glanced at where Brett had been standing and saw people coming towards them. Swinging the gun in that direction, they held up their hands, calling his name. He blinked. Blinked again. He saw Brett beside him and let his guard down, the pain intensifying.
“Take…care…of him.”
Darkness found him.
****
Kieren slowly became aware of several noises at once. A muted beeping to his left and snoring to his right. He reached for his alarm to silence it, but pain streaked through him, making him gasp. The snoring stopped immediately.
“Kieren?”
Kieren repeatedly blinked, trying to clear his vision. “What—”
He stopped when his voice croaked. A straw was pressed to his lips, and he gratefully drank the cool water, letting his eyes drift shut again. After he had his fill, he opened his eyes again, the room blurring for a second when they didn’t want to stay open. A hand rested on his head, stroking his forehead.
“It’s okay. Rest,” the voice said.
****
The next time he woke, he was more alert. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking several times to clear the grittiness. The moment he was able to focus, he knew he was in the hospital.
“What happened?” he rasped.
Someone popped up from beside him, making him flinch and groan as pain radiated from his side. Glancing down, his body gave no answer because a sheet covered him, but he had an IV going into the back of his hand and a clip on his index finger. He assumed they were what was making the machine beep.
“Kieren?”
He faced the voice, smiling at Patrick. “What are you doing here?”
Patrick lifted a straw to his mouth, and Kieren sucked, briefly closing his eyes at the fresh, cool water. He quenched his thirst, then nodded, and Patrick removed the straw.
“What happened? I remember the auction and the shooter and covering you while they tried to get whoever it was.”
Patrick chuckled. “Always full of questions. I’m here because I wanted to be. What happened was that you took me to the floor and protected me while they apprehended the shooter and Charles.” He stroked his fingers through Kieren’s hair. “You took a bullet for me.”
Kieren raised his eyebrows. “I did? Go me.”
Patrick snorted. “You’re an asshole.”
“For taking a bullet meant for you?”
“Yes. And for scaring the shit out of me.” He sighed. “The bullet nicked something, which was why you lost consciousness. I was afraid…” He shook his head and stared at their joined hands—when had Patrick taken his hand? “It was touch and go during surgery. I thought I’d lost you.” The last sentence was whispered, and Kieren wanted to hold him.
“I’m here.” He squeezed Patrick’s hand. “I’m here.”
Patrick leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Don’t leave me, Kieren.”
Kieren expected his chest to tighten at the thought of staying, but for once, it didn’t. “I won’t.”
“Let me get the doctor in to check you out, and we can figure out what the plan is from here. Okay?” Patrick said.
Kieren nodded, already feeling tired again. Patrick did something out of Kieren’s eyesight, and within minutes, a doctor bustled in.
“Good morning, Mr Young. Nice to see you awake. I’m Dr Green.” He picked up the clipboard at the base of his bed and flicked through it. “Well, your vitals are looking great. With what you’ve been through, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but you’re strong, and not just in the muscle department.” He chuckled at his joke, and Kieren wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn’t a fan of hospitals, but the doctor jokes were the worst. “The bullet went straight through your arm, in and out, but, unfortunately, carried on its journey and found its way through the side of your vest, entering your right side and coming to a stop millimetres from your liver. It hadn’t exited when you were brought in, but we retrieved it when we performed surgery on you. I have no idea how you didn’t sustain more injuries because the bullet missed just about everything. You are one lucky guy, Mr Young.”
“How long before I can get back to work?”
