Lyric is watching me and her eyes fill with tears. I reach for her hand and she moves it back. The motion is small, but I notice, and I don’t like it.
“Hey, I’m okay,” I tell her, my eyes narrow. “I promised.”
“It was touch and go, man,” Zane responds. His eyes move from me to Lyric and stay steady on her. He also looks like he’s been through the ringer. “I’m sorry, brother. We heard your bike, got the text and we were ready to go, assuming you’d want the house to yourselves. He got us from behind. When we woke up you were gone.”
“Thanks for being here,” I tell him, nodding my head, and he dips his chin in response. This was the closest either of us has been to death and we’ve each been through a lot. I don’t blame him or Bullet. Lukas Deveroix was a loose cannon, just waiting to pop off.
“What about Deveroix?”
Zane shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “He’s dead. The police took a statement from Lyric and it sounds to them like self-defense.”
My eyes squeeze closed and I take a deep breath. Thank fuck. I want to know more about the investigation but Lyric remains quiet.
“Alright, Mr. Street, good to see you awake.” A doctor in green scrubs and a white coat comes breezing into my room, clipboard in hand. What surprises me more is when my dad and AJ follow close on his heels.
“Dad?” I question, drawing his eyes to me. I see immediate relief in his features, and I swear his eyes shine.
“It’s good to see you awake, son,” he says, his voice rough.
“What’s the word, Doc?” AJ asks, his hand resting on my leg.
“We managed to stop your internal bleeding and sewed up the artery that was struck. While in surgery, you did code and we had to use paddles. Your chest and abdomen will feel sore. Youlost a lot of blood, so we kept you in a medically-induced coma for a few days to give you time to heal,” the doctor reads off, while keeping his eyes on me. “How are you feeling now?”
“Like I died,” I answer, and get a swat on my arm from Zane. “Sorry. I am a little sore, Doc, and my throat is killing me.”
“That's to be expected from being intubated.” The doctor nods and looks over my monitor and vitals. “You can have some water once we do your checkup. Expect the pain for a few days. We’ll send you home in a few days with some meds once we feel you’re in the clear. Until then, rest and keep any activity to a minimum.”
“When can I leave?” I'm itching to get out of this room. I’ve never liked hospitals. And I can feel the wall that Lyric is trying to put up right now to protect herself. I almost died on her, and I know my baby is blaming herself. We need to talk; I need to hold her, but I can’t in this fucking room.
“In a few days,” the doctor repeats, before giving me a smile and handing some paperwork to my dad.
“I’ll marry you tomorrow if you get me discharged today,” I turn to Lyric, keeping my face dead serious.
“Like I’m that desperate to marry you,” she responds, glancing away from the bed and me. The room goes silent and my dad clears his throat.
“How about we give you two a minute?” Zane claps his hands and ushers my dad and AJ out of the room.
“Hey,” I say, bringing her attention back to me. I need her eyes and to look at her face. “You were the last thing I thought about before I passed out. I was worried about leaving you alone to get help.”
Her crystal-blue eyes glisten with tears and her bottom lip is gripped between her teeth. Finally, she reaches for my hand and I instantly wrap mine around hers. “I was so scared, Colt. You were so pale and there was so much blood. When I gotback, you weren’t awake. I just pressed on your wound until the ambulance got there.”
“You did good, baby,” I tell her, pointing at myself. “I’m still here.”
“You died, Colt,” she says and a sob tears from her throat. “I almost lost you for real and it scared me. It was all my fault.”
“Stop, Lyric.” I shake my head and use what strength I have to pull her forward. She gets the hint, thankfully, and sits on the edge of the bed. I cup her face with my hand. “We were meant to be. I was always meant to come back into your life. This is just the way it happened. You have to know, baby, that I’ll always put myself in danger if it means you won’t get hurt,” I tell her honestly. There is nothing about me that will change in that way. I can only picture it getting worse and growing bigger if we have a family someday. I’m expendable. The people I love are not.”
“You’re amazing, you know that? Selfless. Brave. I’m proud of the man you are now and the soldier you were,” she tells me, and my throat bobs with another emotion entirely.
My eyes collide with hers. I can see her love for me. I can also see it’s tangled with strands of doubt, fear, and worry. I’m not angry. I just vow from here on out, for the rest of our lives, that I’ll make all those feelings vanish. I manage to nod my head, giving her the reassurance she needs to take the next steps forward with me.
Fuck going slow. All I see at the end of this story is Lyric as my wife. There is no other ending meant for our happily ever after. I fell in love with the girl who offered me comfort on one of the worst days of my life. We took a long, painful and twisted path to get back to each other, and I’ll fight everyday to keep her with me.
“You look tired again,” she says softly, running the backs of her fingers down the side of my face.
I have so much more to say to her. So many things to ask, to plan. She can’t leave me again. My energy is fading though; I can feel my limbs getting warm and tingly. “They really give you the good stuff.”
Lyric laughs, and it’s music to my ears. “Good to know, Street. Get some sleep.”
