“We got him back but not for long. We need to get him in the OR, now.” a short, brown-haired lady insists, looking at a screen. In seconds, they pull up the bedrails and rush Bobby’s bed out of the room.
Bobby’s alive—my brother still has a fighting chance. I can’t help the rush of hope that flows through me. I once hated that feeling, not caring for its fa?ade, but I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t hope to the gods that my brother pulls through this.
Dani
I sit in the chair next to Shadow as Doc hands both of us coffee.
“You two should go home. I’ll call you if anything changes,” she urges, sitting in a chair across from us in the waiting room.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Shadow replies, taking a sip of the hot coffee.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask.
“He’s in a critical condition, the bullet nicked an artery. He died once in the ambulance and once again when he got here. There is no telling if he will make it or not.” She looks down at her coffee and sobs.
“Fuck me,” Shadow whispers.
Doc sniffs and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Take Dani home, get some sleep.”
Shadow looks at me, his blue eyes full of hurt, killing me inside. I want to take away the pain he’s feeling, add it to mine, but I can’t. Shadow is living a Hell I can’t imagine. Bobby took a bullet for him, saved his life, and he lost a woman he considered a mother all in one day.
“You will call me if anything changes, right?” Shadow asks, looking at the floor.
“Absolutely,” she promises, taking a sip of her coffee.
“I’m fine, Shadow. We can stay,” I offer.
“No, you’re pregnant and need to rest,” Shadow says, standing and turning to Doc. “Call me if anything happens.”
“I will,” she reiterates, standing with us.
***
I wake to the dark night and slide my leg across the bed, looking for a cool spot. When my leg slides along and I don’t feel Shadow, I raise from the bed and pat his pillow. Nothing. He isn’t in bed. I slide off the bed and shimmy into some shorts before exiting the room. I pitter-patter my bare feet down the hall and find Shadow sitting on the worn-leather couch which sits diagonally across from the bar. He’s adjusting white powder into lines on a mirror on the coffee table using a pocket knife.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Can’t sleep,” he clips, his tone cold.
“So, you thought you would do cocaine?” I question.
Shadow scoffs at me.
“Just come to bed with me,” I offer sweetly, but Shadow doesn’t budge.
“I understand you’re hurting, Shadow—”
“You don’t know shit about hurt, Dani,” Shadow spits, licking his thumb which the white powder brushes upon. He looks up from the coke and hits me with damaged blue eyes.
“Hurt is watching your mother overdose on drugs and you watch her dying, wondering if reviving her would be a bigger Hell than letting her die. Hurt is having your dad—the only role model you ever had growing up—shot down in cold blood in a third world country. Hurt is watching your brother suffer because he took an undeserving bullet, one meant for you.” Shadow’s eyes gloss over before he looks back down. His words hit me hard. I bite my bottom lip to keep from putting him in his place, because I know he’s hurting. I want to be there for him, but he clearly doesn’t want me to be around.
I start walking back to the room, giving Shadow his space.
“Dani, wait,” Shadow sighs, but I don’t stop. I know nothing good will come of us having a conversation while we are both hurting and he’s high.
I walk into the room and slam the door then slide against it, throw my head into my hands, and sigh heavily.
I crawl across the floor and up onto the bed and curl myself into the sheets. The door opens, painting the wall with light from the hall before slowly closing. I feel the bed dip down and a hand is placed on my back.
“You okay, Doll?” my dad asks. I flinch, surprised it’s my father and not Shadow.
“Yes,” I lie.
“This is just the process of healing, Darlin’,” he exasperates.
“With drugs?” I question.
“Unfortunately, the ways of healing are different for everyone. The boys of the club are not men of many words when they’re hurting, and drugs seem to help with the overthinking of things.” My dad pats my back, and he talks as if he’s speaking from experience. “Just be glad he’s not drowning in girls, or—” he pauses. I know what he was going to say: girls and killing. He’s right, though; Shadow could be doing a lot worse things right now trying to forget Bobby took his life to save his.
The bed dips as he brushes his lips against my temple. “Just for the record, I didn’t want any of this for you. But I know you’re strong enough to survive this world, Dani, You grow stronger with pain. You just have to survive it.” My dad gives my back one more pat before leaving me in the dark with my thoughts.
***
I feel warmth cocoon my body, waking me from my sleep.
“I’m sorry,” Shadow whispers in my ear.