Page 73 of Wreckage of Us
“Oh,” I am so tempted. The chairs back there are slightly more comfortable than the ones out here in the general waiting room. “I have to wait for Dylan’s mom. I’ll take her back there with me, if that’s okay?”
“Yep, no worries,” he nods and gets back to his computer, typing away. More people looking for urgent care walk in, so I move out of the way and wait.
Not even five minutes later, Arlene rushes in with Malone on her heels.
“Any news?” She grabs me in a tight hug and refuses to let go.
I pat her gently on the back, struggling to comfort her when I don’t have any idea what’s going on.
“No news yet,” I finally whisper.
She lets go of me, and I lead her and Malone through the automated doors and into the back area that’s dedicated to the staff.
“You two have a lot of explaining to do,” Malone grumbles our way once we’re sitting down.
“How do you mean?” Arlene slaps an offended hand over her chest and eyes him like she can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.
“Devereux clearly told you not to move from the house unless me or Dylan came to get either one of you,” he stares her down. “Not to mention, I was inside the house when you took off like that.”
“Dylan texted us both to go to the house,” I murmur quietly. “He said to hurry,” I almost start crying.
“I got a message from him, too,” Malone says with disgust, “telling me to check the back of the house. Those fuckin’ messages kept me busy enough just for you two to take off on me.”
“Jon is okay, right?” Arlene grabs his hand and won’t let go.
“I told you on our way here that he is,” Malone reminds her, probably a bit more forcefully than intended. He is still wound up over the entire thing. “We all got duped. Such a rookie mistake on my side.”
“I should’ve called him when I saw that message,” I rub my hands over my face in distress. “I was just too excited to see him, to tell him that…” I stop talking. The first person to hear that I love Dylan should be Dylan.
“How much longer you think?” Arlene asks gently when she sees I’m not saying anything anymore.
“I have no idea,” I shrug in distress. “It depends on how bad he is.”
“I need to call Wyatt,” she starts crying now. “Make sure Ethan is okay.”
I just sigh and stare at the wall with sadness. I want to comfort her, but I have nothing left in me. I hope Ethan is okay as well.
We sit like this in silence for what feels like forever.
The sound of squeaky footsteps on the hospital floor snaps my eyes to the side just in time to see Oliver walking toward us.
“Oliver,” I jump out of my seat and take off in a run to get to him faster. I don’t have the patience to wait the extra five seconds for him to get to me. “Is Dylan okay?”
“Fancy seeing you here,” he gives me a tired smirk. “I am here to report that even though I really want you for myself, your man will live to see many more days. Most likely with you,” he teases me.
“Oh, thank you, Jesus,” Arlene whispers from somewhere behind me. I am just staring at Oliver, trying to process what he’s telling me but coming up short.
“Is he really okay?” I whisper.
“He is,” Oliver nods and brings a hand up to squeeze my shoulder. “That heavy ass sweatshirt he had on most likely saved him,” he chuckles in amusement. “Who wears that shit this time of year? We don’t even have any snow on the ground yet.”
Tears are running down my face, and I laugh. “He’s always cold. He’s not used to the weather here yet.”
“Well, shit, that’s some epic sweatshirt. It had this thing sewn it, like a heating blanket with batteries. One was in the back, one in the front. The bullet grazed the one in the front,” Oliver explains. “It did hit him after, but because of that box stopping the trajectory, it didn’t go too deep, barely touched the bone. Just enough to make him bleed right away.”
“Why did he pass out?” I think of asking.
“It was still very painful. He could’ve passed out from the shock. The seizures he had in the ambulance didn’t help.” He takes a deep breath and watches me carefully, almost like he worries about how to tell me something else.
