Page 2 of Chaos Luck Wrath

Hearing someone refer to Joey as her husband made Layne’s heartache burn even deeper. Gage’s arm was suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, holding her firmly as they both braced for impact.

The doctor tapped on the screen several times as she drew in a deep breath to share the news. “He is currently in our Intensive Care Unit. I was able to extract the bullet from his chest and repair the tissue.” She continued to go into the finer details of what had been done during the surgery, using her tablet as a reference point, but Layne was still stuck on her first sentence.

“He’s in the ICU?” She stared at Dr. Monroe and wondered if this was her mind playing games on her. Had they renamed the morgue?

Dr. Monroe nodded. “He lost a lot of blood and he’s not out of the woods yet, but he’s extraordinarily lucky the bullet barely nicked his heart. If it had been only a hair to the left, it would have been fatal.”

Layne’s body was involuntarily shaking like a leaf and her lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough oxygen. The renewed wave of hope had come from nowhere and crashed down on her. She didn’t even feel the rolling set of tears on her cheeks.

Gage hugged Layne into his side, feeling the same relief and hopefulness upon hearing the doctor’s words. “When can we see him?”

Dr. Monroe tucked her tablet back under her arm. “We’d like to monitor him for a little while longer to make sure he’s stable after surgery, but I will have a nurse come get you when you can go to his room.”

Whatever else was said, Layne couldn’t have told anyone because her mind was solely on seeing Joey for herself. What if the doctor had gotten patients mixed up? Maybe she was mistaken and Joey was lying in a cooler with a tag on his toe.

About forty-five minutes later, a nurse came to lead Gage and her into a room located in the heart of the trauma ICU. When she entered, it smelled so sterile and not at all like the leather and sage she wanted to be greeted with. When she approached the bed, she saw him lying there unconscious and quite pale. Tubes provided him oxygen and drained excess fluids from his chest, IVs provided his body with medications, and monitors constantly checked his vitals.

Her hand covered her mouth, stifling a sob. Gage squeezed her shoulders reassuringly as his body released some of the tension it had been harboring since they had arrived at the hospital.

Layne stepped up next to the bed, carefully taking hold of his hand while her fingers trailed over the side of his face in disbelief. Touching him and feeling his warmth made it real. He was still here with her, and he hadn’t left. His life hadn’t been robbed of him in the name of Layne’s survival.

Her words shook with the weight of her tears still on them. “You listen to me, Joey motherfucking De Luca. I swear to God if you die on me now, after all this, I will hunt your soul down and never let you hear the end of it.”

Gage joined her at Joey’s bedside, lightly patting his brother’s shoulder. “You’ve always been a stubborn son of a bitch.” He tried to make the commentary light, but his own emotions were getting caught on the words.

She stood there watching every breath he took into his lungs. Each minor movement of his body had her attention. When it was clear she wasn’t letting go of his hand, Gage brought a chair over to her so she could sit. Layne rested her head on his arm, both of her hands steadfastly clutching onto the familiar skull tattoo on his hand.

“Hey, Layne!” The crack echoed in the air. Joey’s weight on top of her. His cocoa-colored eyes were full of physical and emotional pain.

“Hey, Layne!” Liam’s voice filled with nothing but hatred.

“Hey, Layne!” All her sense of security was shattered.

“Hey—”

She startled awake, lifting her head from the edge of Joey’s bed to see the nightmare wasn’t entirely over. Her heart was galloping a little harder in her chest to the point she could practically feel it in the back of her throat.

“Layne,” Gage’s voice repeated her name for a third time. His hand lightly rubbed the exposed skin of her upper back to ease her out of her nap.

Groggily, she responded, “Yeah?” Her fingers rubbed the slumber from her eyes as she tried to erase the fog that had settled over her. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she had only managed to snag an hour of rest.

He had a large paper bag in his hand. “Rebecca dropped off some clothes for you to change into.” She hadn’t been allowed beyond the nurse’s station since she wasn’t considered immediate family, but Rebecca had met Gage for a few minutes to get an update and to see what else she could do.

Layne shook her head. “No.” Her eyes looked at the unchanged slack expression on Joey’s face. “What if he wakes up and I’m not here? What if he… and I’m not?” Her fears were getting the best of her and making her unable to say the morbid alternative.

Gage squatted down next to her, a hand soothingly rubbing over her thigh. “Baby, he’s not going anywhere in the next ten minutes.” He offered her the bag with her clothes in it. He had already changed out of his tux and into a set of casual jeans and a solid blue t-shirt that his buddy had dropped off while Layne had been catching some rest.

Layne stared at the bag for a minute then sighed as she stood from the chair. She leaned over and kissed Joey’s mouth softly. “I will be right back, okay?” There was no telling if he could hear her or not, but it made her feel better to think he could.

It took what little strength she had in her to release Joey’s hand and grab the bag instead. Gage stood and motioned in a direction across the hall. “The nurse said there’s a bathroom right over there you can use.”

After Layne left the room, Gage plunked down into her chair. One elbow rested on his knee while the fingers of his other hand roughly ran through his cropped hair. “She’s hurting, Joe. Hell, I’m hurting. If you check out, you’ll be taking her with you. You gotta pull through this, for all of us.” His emotions tainted the last few words that passed through his lips.

Finding the easily marked bathroom, Layne stepped inside. She stared at herself in the mirror. The day had begun with her looking and feeling her prettiest. Now, her eyes were swollen and bloodshot from the tears, her makeup smudged into dark circles around her eyes, her hair frazzled, and the red bloodstains still marred her fair skin.

Mentally, peeling off her wedding gown had been the most painful part of the process. The weight of the fabric should have been a relief when it fell to the floor, but her body still carried an incredible emotional load. Looking in the bag of clothes, Rebecca had done her typical thing. Not only did she pack two outfits, but she had tossed some spare toiletries in there as well. After scrubbing any speck of dried blood from her body and washing her face, she brushed out her hair putting it in a ponytail.

Layne chose a pair of black leggings, slip-on sneakers, and a lavender tank with a dark purple zip-up hoodie overtop. She shoved her dress into the bag, unable to get it to fit fully so the skirt was cascading out the top like a fountain of tulle. Why was she even keeping it? It had to be bad luck to keep something that you wore when your husband took a bullet for you, right?

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