Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
His fingers twitch, and I’m certain my mind has finally snapped. I am absolutely fucking positive that I need to make another appointment with my head shrinker so he can up my meds because I’m clearly hallucinating. A groan sounds, and I freeze, looking down at my brother beginning to stir.
“Banger? Thank fuck, brother.” I grip his hand tight, smiling for the first time in days. “Open your eyes.”
He groans again, and his eyelids flutter, but they don’t open. “The fuck,” he growls, pulling on the tube in his throat.
“Hang on, man.” I work quickly to remove the tube and get him some ice chips. “You’ve been out of it for a long time. Take it easy, brother. Fuck, I never thought I’d be so glad to hear your raggedy-ass voice.”
He grunts or maybe he laughs. It’s all the same right now. Banger motions for more ice.
It takes a minute for my hands to stop shaking, for my mind to process that Banger is awake. He’s alive, not another of my failures. Breathe in, breathe out. I repeat the words over and over until I’m in control.
“How long?”
Of course. “Couple of weeks.”
His dark brows rise in surprise. His fingers twitch a moment before his hands are on his body, taking stock of his injuries, which are mostly concentrated center mass. Several bullets went through his chest and stomach. “Fuck.”
“You were shot up pretty good,” I tell him. “I had to put you in a coma to help with healing. You’re at the clinic. Do you remember anything from that day?”
Banger’s brows knit together, and he shakes his head. “Willow?”
I shake my head and employ a rip-the-bandage approach. “She was gone when we got there. Bloodthirsty Devils have her, but we’re working on getting her back.”
“Gone? Where?”
“I know, brother. I know. We’ve done everything we can to find her, but these gangs don’t operate the way we do.” I sigh, that helpless feeling returning all over again. “We even have Doherty on the case. I promise you we’re doing everything we can.”
I don’t mention Maggie because the last time we spoke, she wasn’t in a helping-out kind of mood.
He nods a few times, eyes growing heavy from the painkillers flowing through his veins. “Fucking Demon.”
Banger mutters mostly to himself, and, at first, I think the pain meds have knocked him back into sleep, but he’s still awake. “You know, I hate that fucking gang.” He motions for more ice chips. “I was so young.” He shakes his head, disgust written all over his face. “Where’s Willow?”
“We’re lookin’, man. We’re looking.” I stay beside the bed, sitting, listening, watching him closely.
He nods and drifts back to sleep. I sit with him for hours, just waiting and watching. Dude’s been to hell and back. Sophie brings me a sandwich from the deli, and I sit and eat it silently. Thinking about Maggie and what all this means.
“You save any of that for me?” Banger startles me out of my thoughts.
“Fuck man, you scared the shit outta me! How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, Doc. Can you sit me up?” I push the button on the side of the bed until Banger is about halfway up. “That’s good, man.”
“You want to eat something? I got some pudding right here. Remember, you need to go easy at first.”
I offer him a small spoonful from the cup Sophie brought when he woke up, and he takes it.
Banger takes a small bite, coughing a bit from the respirator and injuries. “You know what’s fucked up?” he says when he finishes swallowing. “That fucking gang.” He takes another bite. “They snatched me off the streets with the lure of money.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Slow down, buddy. Don’t wear yourself out.”
He nods, and I can see he wants to make up for lost time. “Like, do this, and you get paid,” he says, continuing his story. “Well, being a kid, I wanted money. I mean, who doesn’t?” He coughs again and says, “You got anything to drink?”
I push the call button. Hannah, my other nurse, answers. “Yes?”
“Hi, Hannah, it’s Dr. Bishop. Can you bring in some of that electrolyte soda for my brother? Let’s try lemon-lime. Bring a few. They’re small.”
“Sure thing, Doctor.”
Banger says, “Thanks, man. Anyway, they made me do things no kid should ever do. I killed people, man. Fucking killed ‘em. Robbed people and scarred them for life, man.”
Hannah comes in and sets four cold sodas on the tray table, and asks, “Anything else?”
“No, thank you.” She glances at Banger, probably surprised he’s awake, and leaves.
“Fucking Demon was impossible when he got something in his head, like burning down a house because the girl inside didn’t want to fuck him. A goddamn kid, and he burnt down her home, which in our neighborhood meant a helluva lot more than some of the rich pricks in Angel Harbor.”