Page 80 of Fighting Jacob

My stomach rolls when he stuffs tweezers into the wound before digging around. Certain I’m seconds from passing out, I concentrate on a speck on the wall in front of me while fighting to keep the contents of my stomach in their rightful spot.

A few seconds later, the doctor lifts a large shard of thin glass into the air. “I got it!”

After dumping the offending material on a stainless steel tray at the side, he sews stitches into Noah’s wrist. The seven butterfly stitches make it seem like his operation was child’s play, but I’m still shocked.

“Why did you do that here?”

Dr. Matthew’s eyes stray to mine. “He wouldn’t have survived another operation. He barely made it through the first one.”

“He’s stronger than you think.”

He finishes rolling a white bandage around Noah’s stitches before standing. “I’m sorry if I seem harsh, but I’ve never been one to sugarcoat things. Do you want me to speak the truth or give you a well-rehearsed line?”

“The truth.” I hate being lied to.

“Okay. Then here it is.” His pause is more worrying than comforting. “Noah’s chances of surviving the next twenty-four hours are sitting at five percent. He has significant head injuries and may have sustained permanent brain damage.” Dr. Matthew’s tone is stern, but it also shows his genuine concern.

“He’ll prove you wrong.”

He squeezes my shoulder, either thinking I'm an optimist or an idiot. “I hope he does—because he’s in for one hell of a ride.”

While they pack away the medical equipment they used, I move to Noah's bedside to remind him of the promise he made to me four years ago.

“Remember the pain you went through when Chris left? Don’t do that to me, Noah. I won’t let you leave me like they left you. You have to fight; you have to fight to live. Emily would want you to live.” I squeeze his hand in mine when his eyes rapidly move under his eyelids. “Promise me you’ll fight. Promise me, and I’ll promise that you won’t go through this alone. I’ll be there for you every day. I’ll fight alongside you. You will survive this, Noah. It’ll never stop hurting, but you will survive this.”

We will survive this.

I sit with Noah for another ten minutes before my phone buzzes in my pocket. I almost let it go to voicemail before I remember I gave the nurse my number. As I slide my phone out, my call goes to voicemail. I'm about to check my messages when the nurse who showed me in nudges her head to a sign advising cell phones are banned in the ICU. It's just above the sign that states visitation is limited to fifteen minutes.

“I’ll be back, alright?”

Noah can’t reply, but I’m certain he knows I’m watching over him. I did the same thing when his brothers died, and I’ll continue doing it until he’s recovered.

As I exit the ICU, I dial my voicemail. While it walks me through the process, I cup the speaker of my phone so I can answer Ryan’s wordless questions.

“He’s...” I struggle to find an appropriate word, “...fighting.” I nudge my head to the door I just walked through. “The nurse who let me in just left for lunch, so as far as the others are aware, Chris hasn’t visited Noah today.”

“Thanks, Jake.” He slaps my shoulder before ramming his finger into the ICU buzzer on repeat.

“You might want to hide that.” I drop my eyes to the badge on his hip. “And that.” My eyes drift to his gun holster poking out of his jacket.

Ryan stuffs his badge into the breast pocket of his jacket and adjusts his gun holster a mere second before a nurse arrives to answer his call. When he successfully pulls the wool over her eyes, I return my attention to my phone.

My first message is from Lola. “Hey...umm... I just wanted to say I’m here if you need me—for anything. Just call me. Okay? Umm... bye.”

I've never heard her so nervous before. It honestly unsettles me as much as seeing Noah holed up in the ICU. I'm about to return her call when my next message arrives. It's from yesterday.

“Hey, Jacob, it’s Flynn.” He pauses like he’s unsure what to say. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other day. The...ah...Lola incident. When you get a chance, give me a call... or pop into Mavericks. Whatever’s easiest. Yeah, well, until then...” He recites his number before hanging up.

Now I’m not just panicked out of my mind, I’m pissed. Between waking up to a topless woman knowing my name and seeing Noah in the ICU, my day has been a clusterfuck of emotions. I’m tired, anxious, and now jealous as fuck. To say I’m holding on by a very thin thread is an understatement—a major one.

With my mind not up for more meddling, I shut down my phone, slide it into my pocket, and make my way back to the emergency department. As much as I’d love to know exactly what happened between Lola and Flynn, I’ve got more pressing matters to deal with right now.

Chapter Forty-One

Lola

My knees clang together when I enter Noah’s hospital room on the heels of my mom. Visiting hours were only invoked today because Noah’s record label transferred his care to Ravenshoe Private Hospital.

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