Page 81 of From Our First

Chapter 20

Nate

“It’s getting damn exhausting coming backto this place,” Cross said as he looked around the small hospital room.

I nodded, leaning back and trying not to move my side too much. “I have to tell you, I don’t really like being back in this bed. It might’ve been a few years, but I’m over getting stitches.”

Cross winced. “Is it bad that I didn’t even think about your accident when I mentioned that?”

I shook my head and then winced. I was grateful for the pain meds they had given me. I had a headache from hell thanks to the stress and adrenaline of seeing Myra on the floor like that. And, of course, from the slice to my side. I needed a little bit of rest—and to see Myra.

“No, I get you. I was thinking about the fact that every single one of us has been in the hospital for something or other recently. All of it added up is a bit much.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” He paused. “And Myra’s going to be fine.”

I opened my eyes to look at my brother, my throat going dry. “She’s really going to be okay? It’s not only the doctors telling Paris, and therefore Paris telling you random things to placate me?”

“Paris is on Myra’s emergency contact list. The doctors told her everything. She’s out of surgery now, and she’s going to be fine. She’ll probably have to go through some rehab and physical therapy for her arm, but they don’t think she’s going to lose any range of motion or sensation.”

“It was her left arm, at least. Not the one she paints with,” I said softly.

“Jesus. I didn’t even think about that. You and I aren’t firing on all cylinders tonight.”

“A knife wound or two will do that to you.” I paused. “She’s not going to wake up alone, is she? She feels alone enough as it is. She can’t wake up alone.”

“One of the girls will be there. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“We both know that’s all I’m going to do.”

“I know. That’s what we do. I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to get a hospital wing here, though, because this is exhausting.”

“I’m sorry we got stabbed. I know it must be hard on you,” I said, only a little bite in my tone.

“Take it out on me. The more you do, the easier it’ll be when you get out of here and don’t have all this rage inside you.”

“You weren’t that bad after the shooting.”

Cross frowned. “I talked to people. And I had Hazel.”

“Macon was the one who didn’t have anyone.”

Cross shook his head. “No, he didn’t. He could have had us, but he closed himself off. And he didn’t have Dakota until it was almost too late. So, he fought, and bloodied himself, and he got out his rage that way. You’re probably going to be angry for a long time.”

“The cut on my side wasn’t that deep.”

Cross narrowed his eyes. “Fourteen stitches, Nate. It was deep enough.”

“No, it was just long. And it bled a lot. Myra, though? That cut was horrendous.”

“I didn’t get a look at it, and I’m kind of glad I didn’t.”

“I was an EMT for long enough, Cross. I saw some shitty things. That was one of the worst.”

My brother studied my face. “It could be that it was the worst because it was on a woman you love.”

My heart ached at that, and I shook my head. “She doesn’t love me, Cross.”

“That’s bullshit.”

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