The Penalty Box - Teagan Kade Page 0,54
to mind. For the first time in forever I feel the hot press of tears behind my eyes.
Peyton suddenly juggles the hot dogs onto the seat, fishing in his pocket. “Someone’s calling.”
He holds his phone up, squinting. “It’s Dad.”
He answers, keeps his eyes on me while he speaks, but he’s not giving much away. “Yes,” he says. “The three of us…uh-huh…we’re on our way.”
He hangs up and by the simple way he swallows I know the news isn’t good.
Phoenix watches him. “Pey?”
He looks between us. “Nolan’s in hospital. Dad’s on his way.”
“What happened?” I ask, stomach knotting, trying not to let the tears come.
“We don’t know yet, but we should go.”
Phoenix nods. “Belt up.”
*
I’ve been pacing this waiting room floor for what seems like an eternity. The tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall is infuriating, the fabric on the chairs frayed—the whole place is designed to send someone mad. Around me Stone, Alissa, Phoenix, and Peyton pace too, more ghosts than people, barely a word spoken since we arrived.
A doctor emerges from the hall, entering the room and looking from one person to the next, eventually settling on King Senior. “Mr. King?”
Stone steps forward. “Yes.”
“Your son has lost a lot of blood.”
I’m conscious of the tense. Is it a good sign?
“What happened?” Stone asks. “Was he in a car accident?”
The doctor looks down. “I really can’t…”
Stone stands to his full height. “I funded this very wing you are standing in, Doctor. I think you can.”
The doctor seems to think it over. “All right,” he says, checking the hall. “He’s got a bad concussion and a pretty severe stab wound in his side.”
“A stab wound?” questions Phoenix, stepping forward. “From who?”
The doctor raises his hands. “You’ll have to talk to the police about that. I’m only here to offer my medical opinion.”
“Which is?” prods Stone.
“Look, if he makes it through the night, I think that will be a good indicator of where we’re at, but it’s touch and go.”
And with that, it’s like the ceiling has fallen. I see the resignation on the faces around me, but I won’t quit on him.
“I want to see him.”
All eyes turn to me.
“Sorry, are you family?” asks the doctor.
Phoenix places his arm around my shoulder. “She’s his wife.”
“I don’t know if it’s a good i—”
“Let her see him,” says Stone.
The doctor nods. “Follow me.”
The tears come when I see him. I can’t stop them, don’t know if I want to.
There are more machines and tubes than Nolan himself, panels and monitors left and right. My heart breaks at the sight.
Peyton guides me to a seat by the bed. “Here. You can just sit right here, for as long as you want, okay?”
I nod, silently crying to myself.
My senses are working, but they’ve been dulled and blunted.
I take Nolan’s hand. I know there are people moving in and out of the room, Stone and Alissa and the brothers, but it’s all background noise—static. I focus what little energy I have on Nolan, on willing him to pull through this.
I can’t believe we’re back here again, that this nightmare has to continue.
Even when the lights go out and only the hum of machinery can be heard with Nolan’s breathing—so, so soft—I remain.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
NOLAN
“Linnea? Linnea?”
It takes me a long time to work out it’s me saying her name.
I open my eyes but close them immediately. It’s way too bright out there.
My mouth’s dry but I try again. “Linnea?”
“I’m here. I’m right here.”
I let my eyes open and adjust, follow the sound of her voice.
There she is—my wife, my everything. Her hand is squeezing mine and her cheeks are wet, but there’s no doubting it. She’s here and she’s fine.
Where I am, and why, takes a bit longer to register.
“You’ve just come out of surgery,” Linnea tells me, squeezing my hand harder. “They patched you up real good, even that silly head of yours.”
“Why…are you crying?” I ask her, noting the tears falling from her face, the hot glaze in her eyes, those eyes I never want to leave.
“I’m just happy you’re okay.”
The details start to fill in. I tighten. “Rex. It was Rex and his goon in the back of the limo.
“Just one?”
“Just one, I confirm. The big one.”
Damn my throat’s dry.
“We know it was Rex,” Linnea tells me. “The commissioner is putting together enough evidence to arrest him. They found your blood in his limo, a thumbprint on the knife that was used to…” She stops, hand going to her mouth.
I try to