“Fuck,” he exhales. “I can’t take this feelin’, Aviana.”
“I know, honey. I know you can’t.”
“It fuckin’ hurts. Feels like my damned heart is bein’ torn from my chest.”
“I know,” I say softly, leaning up to kiss him. “Go with them, see if it’s him. Stay by his side. I love you.”
The words come out without thought, and I stiffen. I didn’t expect those feelings to even be real, let alone those words to come out so naturally, but they did, and they feel...well...okay. Perhaps I’ve always loved Cohen. Perhaps the anger has simmered down and let those emotions free? I don’t know. All I know is that at this moment, I mean it one hundred percent.
“You love me?” he asks, his eyes searching my face.
“I do, yes.”
It’s the truth.
The beautiful truth.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss me. “Love you too, babe.”
Shit.
Those words.
They hit me right in the feels.
I have to fight a whole lot harder to keep those tears at bay now.
“Go,” I say, my voice croaky. “Go and be with him.”
Cohen kisses me again, and then he’s gone.
This day has been both the worst and, weirdly, the best...
Today, I started to find myself again.
Today, I began to remember who I am.
Today, I fully found my freedom.
22NOW – COHEN
“He’s in critical condition. We don’t know if he’ll make it through the night, let alone the next twenty-four hours. If he does, his chances are a lot higher. If he doesn’t, you’ll have to consider the chance that he won’t wake up from this. He was in a bad way. He had been shot eight times, yet only one of those shots hit his lung. We were able to repair that, but he had severe internal bleeding and serious damage to his body. He took a hard hit to the head, which has caused significant swelling. You need to be aware that the chances are incredibly high that he won’t come out of this alive. If he does, he may very well be a different man to the one you know.”
We stare at the doctor, hearts in our fucking throats.
It’s Samson. The man they just operated on. Alarick was able to look and confirm for them and give them some information on him.
It’s not looking good.
The doctor doesn’t believe he’ll pull through.
Fucking terrifying thought, considering he knows what he’s talking about.
Samson is a fighter, strong, and fucking determined, but can you fight past eight fucking bullet wounds?
I’ll find whoever shot him.
I’ll fucking kill them if they’re not already dead yet.
“Thank you,” Alarick says. “When can we see him?”
“You can see him one at a time, very briefly. He needs the rest.”
Alarick nods, and the doctor leaves, telling us he’ll keep us updated. Alarick goes in to see Samson first. Kendric and I sit, both of us staring at the fucking bland hospital walls, neither of us saying a damned thing. He’s our brother. He did the wrong thing by the club, betrayed our trust, but he’s our fucking family, and he didn’t deserve the shit he was put through.
I don’t fucking pray, but right now, I’m pleading with whoever is listening to let my brother live.
Let him see his daughter.
Let him piece his life back together again.
“He didn’t even fuckin’ get the chance to look into his baby girls' eyes,” Kendric murmurs, staring at his hands.
“Gotta believe he’ll get that chance, brother,” I say.
“If he doesn’t?”
He looks to me now.
“Then we make sure she knows him, we make sure she’s safe, we make sure she is always taken care of in the way he would want.”
Kendric looks away. “What the fuck was he thinkin’?”
“He was thinkin’ he wanted to get his baby out. He was thinkin’ he didn’t trust anyone else to do that. He was thinkin’ he owed it to everyone to be the person to go in and get her. He was tryin’ to fix his wrongs.”
“He didn’t have to fuckin’ do that,” he growls.
“Yeah, brother, he did. For himself, he did.”
“And now he might fuckin’ die! So what was it worth?”
I don’t say anything else.
Truth is, nothing I say will make him feel any better.
He’s fucking broken. We all are.
“All we can do is be here, brother,” I say carefully. “That’s all we’ve got left.”
Kendric nods and then goes back to sitting in silence.
Alarick comes out a minute later, his face hard, his body wound up tight. We both stand and walk over.
“How’s he doin’?” I ask.
“I don’t fuckin’ know how he’s alive. He looks defeated. Dead. Broken.”
“We need to get his girl in here,” Kendric rasps. “We need to get her talkin’ to him. She’s the only thing that’ll pull him out of this.”
“You’re right about that,” Alarick agrees. “Give her time to rest, and we’ll get her in here. Do you want to go in there? Not much to see, he’s got fuckin’ tubes comin’ out of him everywhere, and he’s pale as a ghost.”
“No,” I shake my head. “Let’s get the girl.”
“Agreed,” Kendric nods. “The girl.”
Here goes nothing.
“SHE HAS BEEN IN THERE for hours. Have we heard anything yet?” Aviana asks, walking towards me with a tray of coffee in her hands.
Waverly and Mykel come over and take a coffee before sitting back down. We’ve all spoken enough, talked enough, fucking cried enough. Now, we’re just waiting and praying that he’s going to wake up. It has been sixteen hours. The doctor said if it goes past twenty-four and he isn’t awake, the chances of him coming out of this get lower and lower.
We’re watching the clock.
Fuck.
Please wake up, brother.
“Nothin’,” I answer Aviana. “Nothin’ at all.”
“I hope this works,” she says softly.
“You and me both, babe. How are you holdin’ up? You haven’t rested for fuckin’ days, Aviana. You need to go home and sleep.”
“Without you?” She shakes her head. “No.”
“I’m good here.”
“So am I.”
Stubborn girl.
I fucking love her for it, though.
“Have you been watching the news?” she asks, sitting down on a squeaky chair in the hall.
I sit beside
