Gideon led me closer, his arm tight around my waist to hold me up. I was sobbing, the tears flowing thick and hot. It was everything I could do to remain silent.
Still, Cary must have heard me or sensed me. His eyelids fluttered, then opened. His beautiful green eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. It took him a minute to find me. When he did, he blinked a few times, and then tears started rolling down his temples.
“Cary.” I rushed to him and slipped my hand in his. “I’m here.”
He gripped me so tightly, it was painful. “Eva.”
“I’m sorry I took so long. I didn’t have my phone. I had no idea. I would’ve been here if I’d known.”
“S’okay. You’re here now.” His throat worked on a swallow. “God . . . everything hurts.”
“I’ll get a nurse,” Gideon said, running his hand down my back before slipping silently out of the room.
I saw a small pitcher and cup with straw on the rolling tray table. “Are you thirsty?”
“Very.”
“Can I sit you up? Or no?” I was afraid to do anything to cause him pain.
“Yeah.”
Using the remote lying near his hand, I raised the top part of the bed so that he was reclined. Then I brought the straw to his lips and watched him drink greedily.
He relaxed with a sigh. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, baby girl.”
“What the hell happened?” I set the empty cup down and grabbed his hand again.
“Fuck if I know.” His voice was weak, almost a whisper. “Got jumped. With a bat.”
“With a bat?” Just the thought made me physically ill. The brutality of it. The violence . . . “Was he insane?”
“Of course,” he snapped, a deep line of pain between his brows.
I backed up a half step. “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t. Shit. I’m—” His eyes closed. “I’m exhausted.”
Just then the nurse came in wearing scrubs decorated with cartoon tongue depressors and animated stethoscopes. She was young and pretty, with dark hair and sloe eyes. She checked Cary over, took his blood pressure, then pressed the button on a remote wrapped around the guardrail.
“You can self-administer every thirty minutes for pain,” she told him. “Just press this button. It won’t dispense a dose if it’s not time, so you don’t have to worry about pressing it too often.”
“Once is too often,” he muttered, looking at me.
I understood his reluctance; he had an addictive personality. He’d traveled a short ways down the junkie road before I kicked some sense into him.
But it was a relief to see the lines of pain on his forehead smooth out and his breathing settle into a deeper rhythm.
The nurse looked at me. “He needs his rest. You should come back during visiting hours.”
Cary looked at me desperately. “Don’t go.”
“She’s not going anywhere,” Gideon said, reentering the room. “I’ve arranged to have a cot brought in tonight.”
I didn’t think it was possible to love Gideon more than I already did, but he somehow kept finding ways to prove me wrong.
The nurse smiled shyly at Gideon.
“Cary could use more water,” I told her, watching her pull her gaze reluctantly away from my boyfriend to look at me.
She grabbed the pitcher and left the room.
Gideon stepped closer to the bed and spoke to Cary. “Tell me what happened.”
Cary sighed. “Trey and I went out Friday, but he had to bail early. I walked him out to grab a cab, but it was nuts right in front of the club, so we went around the corner. He’d just taken off when I got nailed in the back of the head. Took me straight down and whaled on me a few times. Never got a chance to defend myself.”
My hands began to shake, and Cary’s thumb rubbed soothingly over the back.
“Hey,” he murmured. “Teaches me. Don’t stick my dick in the wrong chick.”
“What?”
I watched Cary’s eyes drift shut, and a moment later it was clear he was sleeping. I glanced helplessly across the bed at Gideon.
“I’ll look into it,” he said. “Step out with me for a minute.”