Page 96 of A Long Way Back
“Three, please.”
They waited for Tay to get out of the lift first, and once he was out, he held back so that he could follow them. This time, he was going to say Ink was his brother. After the pair had moved away from the nurses’ station, Tay wheeled himself forward.
“I’d like to see Ink Farrow, please,” Tay said.
“Are you a relative?”
“He’s my brother.”
“Just down there. Second bay on the left.”
Tay wheeled himself down and when he saw Ink lying propped up in the bed with all the machinery around him, a bag of fluid hanging above his head, he gulped back a sob. Even up to this point, he’d been trying to convince himself everything would be all right. He wheeled himself to Ink’s side, took hold of his fingers and started to cry.
“He’s going to be fine,” a woman said and Tay turned to see a doctor standing at the foot of the bed.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure as I can be. He was stabbed twice. He had a small pneumothorax which, with rest, should heal on its own. The oxygen will help. The other injury was to his lower back. We’ve been able to rule out internal damage, but we’ll see how he does over the next twenty-four hours. The knife hit muscle. He’s been stitched. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s lucky the injuries aren’t worse. A couple of days in hospital and he can go home. He’s unlikely to wake for a few hours.”
“Thank you.”
When the doctor had walked away, Tay lowered his head to Ink’s hand and pressed his lips to his fingers. “Don’t you dare not get better.”
He stayed for an hour before he decided to ought to go check on Dog. Tay took the T-shirt Ink had given him out of the bag at the back of the chair and laid it on the bed. Ink would know he’d been there with him.
Chapter Thirteen
INK EMERGED FROM UNCONSCIOUSNESS SLOWLY. He could hear machines bleeping, quiet voices talking, and knew he was in hospital.Stabbed.His back hurt and his chest. He didn’t want to open his eyes. Not yet. It was safer to keep them closed.
Tay!Was Tay safe? His heart lurched and he opened his eyes just enough to see he was alone before he fully opened them. It was gloomy. Night time then. There was no one near his bed, but the T-shirt he’d bought Tay was on the pale blue cover lying over him. Tay had been here. He sighed with relief, then sucked in a breath at the pain in his chest, then winced at the further pain that action caused.Fuck!Not moving and only breathing gently helped, but he still hurt.
No way could he stay in here. Even if Tay hadn’t given them his name, they’d have found it from his bank card and entered it into the system. The police would want to speak to him. George, his offender manager, was probably salivating with glee and on his way. Carter might be too. George, Ink could cope with. Carter, he couldn’t.
The back of the bed had been raised and Ink was propped up. A bag hung next to the bed feeding a clear liquid into his arm. There were sticky pads on his chest. If he pulled them off, the nurses might come. Was he strong enough to walk? He needed to try. He swung his legs over the side of the bed.Jesus Christ that hurt.Where were his clothes? His phone?
“What are you doing?”
A male nurse appeared in front of him.
“I need my phone,” Ink croaked.
“Let’s get you back into bed.”
Ink didn’t protest. He’d found out one thing. He didn’t have the strength to leave. Not yet.
The nurse opened the bedside cupboard and handed Ink his phone. “You know where you are, right? University College Hospital. You’ve been stabbed twice, but you’re going to be fine. You’re quite the hero.”
“What?”
The nurse frowned. “Do you remember getting stabbed?”
For a moment, Ink hesitated. Could he get away with saying no? But the nurse continued as if Ink had answered.
“You’re all over YouTube and the TV. People were filming on their mobiles. The police will want to talk to you tomorrow. The press too, probably.”
Shit.“I don’t want to talk to the press.” Or the police.
“The press aren’t allowed in. Don’t worry. Nor the police until you’re well enough to talk to them.”
