Page 68 of Shame

“Hold pressure, or he’ll bleed out. That’s a big fucking hole.”

Great. Was it a bazooka?

“Just breathe, Shark. We’re gonna get you to the hospital.”

Hospital sounds nice. Soft bed. Lots of meds. Pain meds are good. Real fucking good. I open my eyes but slam them shut when the light stings. Behind my eyelids all I see is Cora’s face, wishing I’d seen more of her lately. I know we’ve got a lot of shit going on, but damn, do I miss her. Want her. Need her.

I need to try harder to get her. Need to not give up. This girl has to be mine.

Couple hours later, I’m stitched up and feeling great on whatever meds they gave me. Doctor says I’m good to go home, so someone gets me there. Don’t know who. My bed is soft, warm. Someone is here, walking around. I hear their boots stomping on my hardwood. Don’t know who it is, but hopefully it’s one of the guys and not an Iron prick here to finish me off.

I move in and out of sleep, until finally the sun is shining, and I open my eyes. It’s bright as shit, my body hurts, especially my shoulder. It’s all patched up with some gauze, and I bet it looks nasty as fuck. I recall someone saying something about through and through, which is good, but it means I’ve got holes on both sides that have been closed up. Whatever. Cool scar, I guess. At least I’m alive.

I get up, unsteady on my feet as I walk out of my room. My brother’s boots are by the door, and I remember there was someone here. Must be him. I go to the kitchen to grab some water and see a bottle of pills by the sink. I snatch them up, realize they’re for me, and take what it says, downing a glass of water with them. Then I go looking for my brother. I have the awful feeling I know where he is, and it only makes me sick.

I head for the stairs and go up, which takes more energy than I’d like to admit. I hardly go up here at all anymore. Kolt’s room and that piece of shit’s room were up here. Mine was downstairs, same one I have now. Never thought to question that, but now I’m wondering…

How many nights did our father fuck with my brother while I was sound asleep downstairs? I gotta get out of this house. Burn it to the fucking ground.

I find Kolt in his old room, sitting on his bed and staring out the window.

He looks over at the sound of me coming, because let’s face it, there’s no way I’m being quiet. Between my heavy footsteps and my grunting from being in pain, there’s no hiding me.

“You’re awake.”

“And in fucking pain,” I answer. “Why are you in here?”

I step into the room, but don’t go too far. It all feels so fucking weird now that I know what happened… probably in this exact room.

“Just thinking.” Kolt gets up, wiping his hands on his jean-covered thighs, then turns to me. “Take your meds?”

“Yep.”

He walks up to me, inspecting my shoulder. Guy would’ve made a fantastic doctor. Hell, he’d have been a good anything.

He meets my gaze. “Let’s not make anything weird, okay? I shouldn’t have taken this shit out on you. I know it wasn’t your fault, but I’m angry. I’m dealing with it in my own way,and—”

“A way that isn’t working, if you’re mad at me after all this time.”

“Since I told you, I’ve reworked a few things in my head. I have some ideas. Trust me, Kaison, I’m working on it. Don’t make this a thing. I don’t need your pity or your sympathy. I just want my brother.”

I nod. “You got me.”

“I’m heading home to shower and change. Call if you need anything. Otherwise, stay in bed and get some rest.” His words are flat. He sounds tired.

Wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed up all night in here, thinking and figuring shit out. He’s always been the type to spend more time in his head than out here with the rest of us. That’s just my brother. Pushing him only pushes him away, so I have to let him come to me. I’ll watch from afar, see how he’s doing, and go from there. If I see he’s retreating more, I’ll say something. If he’s doing fine, I’ll let him be. I hate feeling helpless, but what else am I going to do? I don’t want to risk pushing him away and having him fly off the deep end. He said he doesn’t want my pity, and I won’t give it to him, but I will tread more carefully. I’ll watch where I step. Nothing wrong with that.

Heading back downstairs, I go for my phone, noting it’s only eight in the morning. I send a text to Cora.

Me: Before you hear it from anyone else, I wanted to let you know some shit went down with the club. I’m fine, but I was shot.

It’s barely a second after I send the text that my phone rings. I smile when I see Cora’s name.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“In pain. Tired. Meds should be kicking in soon.”

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