Page 146 of Bloom: Part 2

My boots thudded on the vinyl floor, each step heavier than the last. A woman in scrubs passed me, her face heavily lined with fatigue. Although I didn’t know her, her eyes widened as though in recognition. She jerked her head straight, then disappeared into a room.

My throat tightened as I followed the numbers down the hallway.

308.

309.

Finally 310.

I wiped my palms on my jeans, trying to stop them from shaking. When I reached the door, I hesitated. The small window in the door gave me a glimpse inside—a hospital bed surrounded by machines, wires, and monitors. My stomach twisted into knots. I didn’t want to see him like this.

I pushed the door open, the creak too loud in the otherwise quiet. Machines beeped steadily, matching the rhythm of my pounding heart. Next to the bed were flowers, cards, and get well soon balloons. I pulled the card I’d picked out from the gift shop. The corners were creased. I should have kept it in better condition.

I walked over to the table and placed the card down.

The body on the bed didn’t look like him—not really. A thin white sheet was pulled up to his chest. His face was pale and still, almost unrecognizable. Wires snaked across his skin, leading to monitors that flashed numbers I didn’t understand. His chest rose and fell slowly, like each breath was a struggle.

My feet felt rooted to the floor as I stared at him. There were so many things I should have said to him but never did.

“Hey,” I said, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Max, it’s me. Bloom.”

I moved closer until my knees hit the side of the bed, and I reached out, brushing my fingers against his hand. It was warm, but not in the way it should’ve been. Not alive warm. Just…warm.

“Hey, you gotta be okay for Crowe,” I said past the lump in my throat. I felt responsible for what had happened. Max had been outside only because he was checking up on me. He shouldn’t have gotten shot. Not for my and Logan’s problems.

“He’s going out of his mind worrying about you.” I hung my head and closed my eyes. “He even went to the chapel to pray. Crowe doesn’t believe in God, but he went for you. He would be lost without you, Max.”

Just the way I would have been if I’d lost my Logan tonight.

The door opened, and Crowe entered the room, his face as pale as Max’s and with so much pain in his eyes. His gaze shifted from me to Max, and his expression softened. His shoulders sagged, and his facial muscles relaxed. I’d been so upset when he started dating Max, but now I wished I could patch Max back up for him.

“Bloom,” he said, his voice low. “How is he? Did he wake up?”

I looked back at the bed, swallowing hard. “No.”

Crowe stepped closer. His gaze flicked to the body on the bed, then back to me. “Jesus. Tonight’s been a shit show.” He collapsed in the chair next to the bed with a groan and covered his face with his hands. “But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry, Crowe.”

He dropped his hands. “For what? Planning to elope with the doctor?”

I shook my head. “For what happened to Max. It’s all my fault. Dr. Simms came after me. If Max wasn’t—”

“Bloom, don’t.” Crowe surged to his feet and took me by the shoulders. “None of this is your fault. Not even the doc’s, so I don’t want you taking any of the blame. Dr. Simms is responsible for this, and I’m gonna make him pay.”

“He’s still alive, then?” I would have expected Crowe to have killed him already.

“Yes. He’s not allowed to die. Not until Max wakes up.”

“He will wake up, Crowe.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Tears filled Crowe’s eyes. “I’d forgotten because I thought we were safe. We weren’t in any turf wars with anyone. But now I understand why you’re so fiercely protective of the doc. I get it, Bloom.”

Tears rolled down Crowe’s face. I hated seeing him like this. I’d always looked up to him for how fierce and protective he was. He held everyone down, giving us more than he’d ever takenfrom us. Without him, there would have been no Bloom. Just an animal not fit to live around humans. And I was nowhere near perfect, but everything good in my life, I owed it to him.

I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight. At first he stiffened, not used to me being the one to comfort him, but then his arms came around me, and he was silently crying in my arms. His shoulders shook with the effort to keep most of it inside. I tightened my hold on him.

“I can’t do this…without him,” he gasped. “Max’s my whole life.”

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