Page 73 of Claymore
“Claymore, I need you to stay awake for me. Until we get you back, until we get a doctor to look at you. Tank’s calling someone. You just need to last the ride, please,” I begged.
“Ella, I love you. I’m gonna kill you for coming all this way.”
“You just hang in there to do just that, okay?” I asked, sniffling as the tears welled up in my eyes.
“Ella, stand back. We’ll get him up,” Tank ordered.
Claymore let out an intense groan as Tank and Ink lifted him up. The look of concern in his brother’s eyes was clear as day. I swallowed hard, grabbing onto the little hope I had left and holding on for dear life.I need you, Claymore. I need you. Please, don’t leave me.
The ride back to the clubhouse was excruciatingly long. They carried Claymore up the porch stairs while I watched. Soon, he was shut away in the kitchen, undergoing surgery. Doctors and equipment all provided by Tank’s contacts filled the main floor while I stood by the doorframe watching it all unfold. My stomach turned violently as flashes of Claymore’s face flitted across my mind. I knew just how badly he’d been hurt, how the only thing keeping him going was his will.
At that moment, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. All that mattered was Claymore. All that mattered was that he’d make it through the night.
“Ella, you need to get some rest. I know you’re worried. We’re all worried, but Claymore’s gonna make it. He’s a real fighter,” said Archer.
“I don’t think I can do anything until I know he’s okay,” I confessed.
“Come on.”
Archer led me over to the couch in the living room, helping me out of my boots so I could lay down. He covered me with a blanket and I pulled it up to my neck. Tears streamed down my face like rivers, flowing freely without no end in sight. I shut my eyes, feeling the adrenaline finally start to subside, and my body soon drifted off to sleep.
***
The next few days had been torturous. I went through the exact routine from sunrise to sunset. Every meal, every shower, every moment I checked on Claymore had been the same. Every time I pulled back the curtain in the kitchen to see him in that makeshift hospital bed, I imagined that he’d wake up, that he’d talk to me and everything would be okay. He laid there, his eyes shut, the sound of the machines beeping softly, but he didn’t move.
An entire week had passed, and I woke up, lying in bed, expecting the day to be the very same. That was when I got the knock on my door.
“Ella?”
“Come in.”
Ink came strolling into my room with a smile on his face. My eyes lit up immediately, and I rolled out of bed, barreling toward the front door.
“He’s awake?”
“He’s awake,” Ink confirmed.
I rushed down the stairs, squeezing through the crowd of members that had gathered outside the plastic curtain separating the kitchen from the living room. I pulled it back, seeing Claymore’s bright eyes staring back at me, and I started to cry.
“Oh my god.”
I sped over to his side as the doctor checked his vitals, scribbling something down on his chart. He smiled at me and I pressed my forehead to his right before I kissed him softly.
“Hello, darlin’. You look as beautiful as ever,” he whispered.
“Claymore. I thought I’d lost you. I thought—”
“I’m right here. I told you, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, kissing me softly.
He groaned as the pain made him wince, but he shook it off, letting me rest my head on his shoulder.
The doctor shut his file, removing his glasses to give them a quick wipe.
“You were lucky Tank and the others got to you when they did, Claymore. Any longer and the injuries you sustained would’ve been fatal,” the doctor explained.
“Still here fightin’, Doc. Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome, Claymore. Please, you need to remain on bed rest for at least three weeks. If you exacerbate that concussion of yours, it’ll only get worse,” he warned.
