Kings of Anarchy (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #3) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,176

had names. Four names which would break me if they left me too.

I sank down with my back to the heavy wooden door, drawing in a deep breath of air and holding it in my body for as long as I could before slowly releasing it again.

I did that a second time. Then a third. When my legs felt strong enough to hold my weight again, I pushed myself to my feet, battling against this fear until I'd buried it deep enough inside me to function again.

I needed to see him. I had to see for myself that he wasn't as pale as my mom had been, that he wasn't falling prey to the cruel hands of fate and that death didn't already have its claws in him.

I circled the building, moving around it until I reached Kyan's window where I stopped a few meters back from it and stared at the thick material of his curtains which blocked my view inside.

I stooped low and grabbed a couple of pebbles from the forest floor before tossing them at the glass to gain Tatum's attention.

It only took her a few moments to pull the curtains wide and her face split into a relieved smile as she found me standing there between the trees.

"Is he okay?" I called, loud enough for her to hear me through the glass.

"He can talk," Kyan's voice came from behind her and she rolled her eyes mockingly, stepping aside so that I was gifted a view of him propped up in bed on a mountain of pillows. His chest was bare and his tattoo covered flesh was gleaming with a layer of perspiration. Along his right arm I could just make out a series of red rose-shaped marks where the rash had spread but they didn't seem to have appeared anywhere else for the time being. "I'm not dead yet."

Kyan broke out into a series of hacking coughs and Tatum hurried to his side, climbing into the bed beside him and running her hand down his back as he rode out the coughing fit and I forgot to breathe.

He finally slumped back against the pillows and I found myself standing right up against the glass, wishing I could reach through it and do something to help.

"Don't go looking at me like I'm dying, Bowman," Kyan growled as he looked up at me with his chest heaving and a fresh sheen of sweat on his skin. "My life recently got exponentially better. I'm not making my girl into a widow for you to sweep in and steal her from me."

“Damn right you’re not,” Tatum agreed.

I managed a weak laugh as he smirked at me and Tatum collected a damp cloth, swiping it over his brow and stealing his attention from me. For a moment I didn’t even have any words as I just watched them together, taking in the softness in his eyes as he looked up at her. And while I watched them, I couldn’t help but feel glad that he’d found her, that he had her there to care for him like that, the way I doubted anyone in his life ever had before. I wanted that for him. I wanted him to live and love and be fucking happy, and if that girl in there was the key to that for him the way she was to me then I saw no reason why we couldn’t both have her.

Tatum took a facial steamer from his nightstand and encouraged him to place his mouth and nose over it and I watched as he breathed in and out, following her commands like a good patient. Saint had bought that thing alongside four humidifiers which were all plugged in around the room emitting eucalyptus scented steam from the essential oils added to the water. He'd researched everything said to have any kind of positive effect on the outcome of this virus plus about a hundred other things said to help with anything even remotely similar to it and Tatum had diligently implemented them all. Anything to give Kyan an advantage against the virus fighting to steal him from us.

Kyan had drunk more honey tea, consumed more ginger and gargled more salt water in the last few days than anyone should have to endure in their lifetime. Not to mention the amount of probiotics and vitamins he'd been ingesting alongside the pain killers, anti-inflammatories and steroids.

To my surprise, Tatum had been saying what a good patient he'd been too,