Page 25 of DOG Part 2
I didn’t say anything, keeping to myself the fact that staying reclined on a kitchen table after surgery could very well be the end of him as well.
“Kane would rather die than go to prison,” David said.
Adele burrowed her face in her hands and nodded her agreement.
Finally, I took a shaky breath. “We’re taking a chance by keeping him here.”
No one said anything, and the communal silence settled it.
Kane wokeup three days later. Skate had left, going back to report to the Rugged Angels, but Tom had stayed, sleeping on the couch downstairs.
Not that anyone had slept much. We’d taken turns keeping an eye on him, making sure he was watched around the clock. He stayed unconscious the whole three days, and by the second one I was thoroughly freaking out, knowing there was a chance he would never wake up.
That’s when I started praying. Praying like I never had before. I didn’t know I was even the kind of person who put much stock or faith in a greater power. Then again, the worst times had a way of changing you.
Tom told me about everything that had happened, and when he went over the part about Kane’s long-time friend dying ,I lost it. Broke down right there in the kitchen. Hadn’t we all gone through enough? Life seemed so unfair, that both Kane and I should be losing people left and right.
As unfair as life was, it was also fleeting. And if Kane ever woke up, I decided then, I was going to make sure I never took a minute with him for granted again.
I was sleeping in the kitchen when I heard my name. I hadn’t even meant to fall asleep, but I was exhausted beyond belief at that point. David had put an air mattress on the floor and we’d lowered Kane onto it, fearing to move him much farther in case he started bleeding again.
I’d curled up in one of the hard chairs with a blanket from his bedroom. It was the comforter from his bed, the one Adele had told me he had gotten when he was ten, and maybe some people would have been ashamed to wrap themselves in it in such an obvious display of wanting, but I didn’t give half a damn.
“Kim,” came a voice, sounding far away.
I lifted my head, my cheek unsticking from the wooden table with a smack. The kitchen was mostly dark, the little night light above the stove being the only source of illumination.
The silence stretched on, and I thought I had imagined Kane saying my name when suddenly he spoke again.
“Kim.”
It was tight and croaked, but it was my name. Swiftly, I tossed off the blanket and dropped to the floor. His eyes were open and staring at me.
“Kane,” I whispered, blinking the tears back.
“We’re home?” he asked.
I nodded. “I’m going to get you some water.”
After he’d had a drink while I held his head, he struggled up to a sitting position, pressing his back against the island despite my protests.
“You have to be careful,” I said, settling back down on the floor next to him.
“I will.”
“You could tear the stitches open if you don’t go slow.”
He smirked, but it was a gentle, playful smirk. Unable to help myself, I smiled back.
Kane closed his eyes and breathed deep. “You operated on me?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew you’d be able to.”
His eyes were still closed and he looked weak, but not as pale as he had when Skate and Tom had first carried him in.
“How did they know where to bring you? I thought you said they didn’t know about your parents.”
