I continued to press the call button for a nurse until one finally came in. She was an older woman wearing light blue scrubs and had her graying hair pulled up in a neat bun.
“Hi, Ms. Adler, it’s great to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
Her voice was soft and maternal—soothing, but did little to put me at ease. She walked over to my machines and added some notes to the clipboard that hung by my bed.
“A little out of sorts and trying to piece together what happened. Is my…is Cain Michaels here?”
“He is, honey. Out in the waiting area of the ER still. Would you like me to bring him back?” She jotted down a few more things on the board.
Relief flooded through me.He was okay.
“Yes, please,” I told her, nodding my head. Huge mistake. The amount of pressure I felt had me seeing stars from the pain of that small movement.
“Okay, honey. I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake and go get Mr. Michaels. The doctor should be in shortly.”
She placed the remote for the T.V. in my palm before leaving. I sat it down next to my leg, having no interest in the added noise. Shutting my eyes, I regretted not asking her to dim the lights or turn them out completely before she left the room.
Opening my eyes when the door opened, my heart skipped when Cain appeared on the other side. He looked like hell. Dark circles lined his eyes. His hair was a wreck, the elastic that held it in place loose and falling. There was blood on his shirt and jeans, and my heart ached wondering if it was his blood, mine, or someone else's.
For a moment he stood in the doorway, looking at me with emotion heavy in his eyes.
“Hi,” I finally said, and that one little word was all it took for him to rush toward me.
When he reached the side of my bed, though, he stopped. I could see the turmoil written all over him, not sure if he should come closer.
But I couldn’t stand the distance.
“You won’t break me,” I encouraged. “Please kiss me, Cain.”
I needed him like I needed the air I breathe. Needed him to touch my skin, to kiss me. I needed the reassurance that he was really here, and so was I.
“Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry,” he breathed, and then his lips were on mine.
He bent over the bed, pressing his fists on either side of my hips as he leaned in to reach my mouth. His kiss was gentle, too gentle, but I didn’t have the energy to deepen it myself.
My head was still leaning back against the bed throbbing, so even though I craved his closeness, I knew I had to settle for what he was giving me at the moment.
Our foreheads rested against each other and I kept my eyes shut, simply taking a moment to process.
When he pulled away, he went to grab the chair in the corner of the room and moved it to my bedside. He sat, then took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine in that familiar way I loved.
I silently vowed to never take that simple gesture for granted.
“Cain, what happened?” I asked, needing to know. “Who else is here?”
He took a deep breath and studied my face. I hadn’t noticed how red his eyes were until now, like he’d been crying. “Nix’s cousin Preston, our new prospect, he…he died, Rose.”
A lump formed in my throat. Bringing my hand up to my mouth, I choked back a sob. This was so fucked up.
“How’s Nixon?”
“Not taking it very well.”
I began to tremble. Someone had died. Preston haddied. Staring at the thin hospital blanket that covered my lower body, I picked at the pilled fibers, processing the information.
“Rose, there’s something else you need to know…”
Whipping my head back toward him, I immediately felt nauseous. I couldn’t even form a sentence. Cain looked regretful—like whatever he was about to say, he didn’t want to.
