Page 99 of Sundowners
“Roman!” Rey knelt beside me, pressing a cloth onto my chest. “Direct EMS over here,” he shouted. “The blood won’t stop!”
I tried to lift my arm, but no luck. “Rey?”
“Shhh don’t try to talk. Help is on the way.”
“Em and B—”
“They’re fine. Creed was able to stop them from being hurt. Just relax, Junior. God, so much blood…”
I wiggled my fingers, but they were numb, and I didn’t have the strength to roll over and sit up.
“Rey, I’m sorry I was such a shithead. Please tell Lola I’m sorry, and Vanessa—”
“Shut up. The paramedics are here, now shut up. You’re pissing me off, Junior!”
For the first time in my life, I saw my uncle cry, and it was the last thing I remembered before the ringing in my ears took over and everything went black.
Dreams had never been kindto me. When I was a boy, I had nightmares almost nightly. My parents talked to doctors, and they all said something similar. “They’re night terrors. He won’t remember them. They’re worse for you to witness than they are for him.” But that wasn’t true. Then after they were murdered, guilt became the main theme. I woke up every morning to beat myself up for all the things I’d fucked up in my life. Therapists told me to forgive myself, to write a letter to my parents. They sent me to grief counseling. The thing that healed me? Bashing my head on a rock in the ocean. The recovery was so miserable that I felt like I’d suffered enough. It was time to move on.
These fragments of my life created my mistrust of all things related to authority. There were only two things I trusted in my life: what my grandparents told me, and that everyone else was full of shit. I didn’t even fully trust my aunt and uncle because they liked to mess with me, and then they both went to work for The Man.
But then I found Creed, and I knew that he was good. I knew he loved me. I knew that if we could just skip ahead in time to after all this bullshit was settled, everything would be fine.
But it seemed we hadn’t yet reached the after part.
I woke up from a terrible dream, drenched in sweat, in a hospital room with Bernadette and Emmanuel arguing next to the bed. When my mouth chose to cooperate, I said the nicest thing I could think of.
“Why does everyone in our family have to argue about everything?”
Bernadette squealed and dove for the bed, nearly knocking out my IV in the process. Nurses came running in, and Emmanuel had to pull his mom back from the bed so they could fuss over me.
“Where is everyone? What time is it?”
“Mr. San Angelo, I need you to lie still so we can check your vitals, and then the doctor will be in to examine you.”
“But…what’s happening?”
“We’ll tell you everything,” Bernadette said, “just let the doctors check you out.”
I might have been a dick to the medical staff, but everyone was avoiding eye contact and speaking in hushed tones, and it was thoroughly pissing me off.
“Mr. San Angelo, your body has been through a serious trauma. The attack left you with severe blood loss. You’re lucky the paramedics got to you when they did, and that your boyfriend was a match for your blood type, or else you might not have been so lucky.”
I had no idea how to respond to that, so I sat there with my mouth hanging open.
“Is that what we’re calling it? An attack?” I finally muttered, confused.
“You experienced hypovolemic shock, Mr. San Angelo. We’re unsure of the amount of damage done to your heart, but you’ve been in a coma for eight days—”
“Eight days? But—”
My chest burned and my breathing became shallow.
“You need to avoid any and all excitement for the near future. We’ll do a full evaluation after you’ve had a few moments to speak with your family.”
“Where’s Creed?” I asked Bernadette. “Where are Rey and Vanessa—”
“Do you have any questions for me?” the doctor asked. “I know this is a shock.”
