Page 59 of Bristol

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She smiles and nods, walking out of the room. The door clicks closed and Sebastian’s eyes flutter open.

“Here, she brought some water for you,” I say, pressing the straw to his lips.

He takes two sips and coughs hard. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath and his face reddens with each cough. Once he finally can breathe, I move the straw back to his lips.

“Slow sips, baby,” I say softly.

His emerald green eyes are half-lidded, barely open as he fights the medication that courses through his veins.

He listens to me, slowly sipping the water for a few minutes. When he’s done, he rests his head on his pillow. His lips part and the constant, steady rhythm of his breathing evens out. I exhale and feel my body relax. Knowing he is getting a little bit of rest feels like a weight is lifted from my chest. For now.

I sit back in the recliner, my hand holding onto his for dear life. I rest my head on the back of the stiff chair they call a recliner, the sting of my back has me rethinking this. I decide to rest my head back onto my arms on Sebastian’s bed. It’s comfortable and I feel closer to him.

The night is long with nurses coming in and out all night. Machines beeping. Sebastian screaming out in agony. The lights coming on for nurses to check on things, swap out medicine, and so on and so forth.

All I can think is that if I could take away the pain, I would. I hate that this happened to him. And I hate even more that it happened because he was seeking out revenge for what happened to me. I know I can’t control the choices he makes, but I am carrying so much anger and resentment toward Patrick and I don’t know what to do with it. I feel too many of the feelings. Too many of my feelings. And if I don’t figure out what to do with them soon, I fear they will come out of my fists.

Chapter Eighteen

SEBASTIAN

Icannot fucking stand hospitals. The smells, the sounds, the feel of tape on my skin to hold needles in place. No part of this place is good with me. The only thing making it halfway survivable is Bristol being by my side. My girl is a trooper, that’s for damn sure. She has stayed here for the last week and a half with me, not leaving for anything. She very seldomly leaves my room, much less the building and that’s only when she has to or when Kendra comes and drags her downstairs to give her some semblance of a break.

The burns covering the left side of my body from one of the beams falling on me are the most painful fucking things I’ve ever experienced. The cleaning and scraping that has to be done every day has got to be somewhere high up on a list of most effective torture efforts or some shit. My tattoo sleeve on my left arm is fucked. Fire is one of the most effective ways to remove a tattoo.

I’ve never cried from pain in my life, until that first day a nurse came in and told me she had to scrape off the top layer of my scabs. The skin turned white and stayed soft, but still had to be scraped every day.

Bristol is at the nurse’s station, getting my discharge papers in order and scheduling home visits with the nurses who will have to continue to scrape my burns until they’re healed. The thought alone makes me want to throw up and gives me cold sweats.

I’m trying to mentally prepare myself for what’s to come, but I know there is no preparing for this. Bristol’s cheerful smiling face cuts through my worry and doubt like a hot knife through soft butter. Her hair is unkempt, tossed in a messy bun, and her eyes have dark shadows beneath them. Through it all, though, she lights up like a damn Christmas tree when she looks at me.

She grins and flashes me the paperwork.

“It’s time!” she squeals.

“Fuck yeah. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

I stand up and slip on a pair of slippers that I’ve been rocking while I’ve been stuck here. All I want is an amazing shower, but these burns hurt too bad for anything to touch them right now. Sponge baths it is. I guess it won’t be so bad if Bristol is the one giving them out.

God, what I want more than a shower is to be inside her. It’s been weeks and I might spontaneously combust if she even looks at it, much less touches it. My dick hardens at the thought of release. If I don’t focus on something else, the whole fucking hospital is going to know when I walk out with a whole tent in my goddamn pants.

Bristol walks around the side of the bed and grabs the bag of our dirty clothes from the last few days along with her backpack. She side-eyes me, glancing at my semi-hard on and smirks.

I shrug. “I thought about how bad I want to touch you and well… this happened.”

She smiles a sinister smile at me and shakes her head. “The feelings mutual, babe. Come on, let’s roll.”

We walk downstairs to the lobby and Bristol is texting while we wait.

“Who’s coming to get us?” I ask.

“Reaper and Kendra.”

“Of course they are.”

The thought makes me smile. My brother. He hasn’t been home since I’ve been in the hospital. He and Kendra rented out a house for a month just to be close to me. He somehow feels responsible which makes absolutely no fucking sense to me.

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