Page 106 of Tight End

A knock at the door interrupts the moment and one of the nurses opens the door. A cop follows her into the room.

“Don’t take too long. He isn’t up to a lot of questions,” she warns before checking my vitals again. They really have been all over me since I woke up. Seems like someone is in here every fifteen minutes for some test or reading or to change my IV.

The cop walks toward the bed. “Mr. Scott,” he says. “I want to find the people responsible for the shooting, but we’re really lacking on leads. There weren’t people in the parking garage, and the license plate of their truck was covered.”

I grit my teeth. “Security couldn’t pull up any images at all? That’s fucking bullshit. So this person is just gonna get away with attempted murder?”

“We’re going to keep on it. But it’s not looking great so far. So anything you can remember, as small as it might be, can help us.”

I go through those minutes again in my mind but I still come up blank as I fist the bedsheet.

Once the cop leaves, I lean back against the pillows. “Who the hell could it have been?”

“Oh, like there’s a shortage of people who want to make you suffer?” Sam quips. He gets up and walks over to the window. “I don’t think the shooter is down there, that’s for sure.”

“Down where?”

“The front of the place is swarming with your adoring public.” Sam sticks his thumb at the window. “They’d tear the shooter to shreds in a hot second.”

“I need to see them.” I start to sit up but fuck, it burns. My entire chest is inflames.

“No. Don’t move. You shouldn’t get out of bed.”

“Yes, I can. Help me up,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Jesus, could you be any more stubborn?” Sam rolls his eyes and stabs the nurse’s button. “You’re not moving unless the nurse says it’s okay.”

The nurse rushes in. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“Nah,” I lie, because I’m in fucking agony. “But my boyfriend here thinks I need permission to get up and walk over to the window. There are lots of people down there. And I want them to see for themselves that I’m good.”

A smile plays at her lips. “I’m sure they’d really like that. But you shouldn’t move.”

“But Icouldmove if I was careful, right? Come on, I accept full responsibility. I’ll sign a napkin or whatever.”

She wrings her hands together and bites her lip for a long minute. “Okay. We’ll take it very,veryslowly.”

“I promise.”

They help me out of the bed and walk me over to the window after disconnecting me from the machines and IV bags. My legs feel like limp spaghetti noodles, buckling as I take my first step. I cling to Sam.

“Bad idea,” Sam says. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“I’d normally love to hear you say those words to me. But save them for another time because I’m gonna get to that window.”

We finally get there. Feels like forever has passed and darkness dips lower in the sky. Sam holds me against him as the nurse works the window open. Seems like there are thousands of tiny flickering candles lighting up the grounds.

The nurse gets the window open and positions me in front of it.

The cheers from the crowd below ring out as I come intoview. The screams are deafening. People flood the perimeter of the hospital for as far as my eyes can see.

“We love you, Brixton,” someone yells.

The rest of the horde goes nuts.

It’s the best feeling…next to hearing Sam say he loves me.

A smile stretches across my lips. “I love you, too,” I murmur, casting a glance at Sam.

---