Sinner's Creed (Sinner's Creed #1)(90)
I sit up, cringing at the ache in the back of my head. I look over and in the hospital bed next to me lays Saylor, who is sound asleep. And very much alive. What the f*ck? I go to stand, but something pulls at me and I look down to see an IV attached to my arm. I’m wearing a hospital gown. I search the room for a clock, but can’t find one. Judging by the darkness outside the window, it’s late at night. How long have I been out?
I look back over at Saylor, and let the memory of what was not a nightmare come back to life. She was seizing. Was she okay? I was gonna kill the paramedics. Did I? Shady was there. Where was he now? I hear the door open and one of my questions is answered. Shady is here.
“Hey, man. How ya feelin’?” Shady asks, stuffing his face with chips.
“What happened?” The room begins to spin so I lay back down, hoping it will still. It does.
“Saylor had a seizure. She’s stable now.” Shady takes a seat at the end of my bed and I want him to tell me everything, but because I can’t stand smacking, I wait for him to finish eating.
“It was about eight this morning. I was on my way to the store and an ambulance passed me. I don’t know why, but I had a feeling I needed to follow it. When it headed in your direction, I called you. When you didn’t answer I knew something was wrong.” Shady swallows hard and I watch his brow furrow as he relives the moment.
“I could hear you screaming, man. Begging for help. The neighbors were trying to get the door open but it wouldn’t budge. I shot out the lock and . . .” He stops, running his hands through his hair and struggling to find the right words. “I’ve never seen you like that. It scared me.”
I think back to how I’d let panic overcome me. The feeling of helplessness is still fresh and it still f*cking hurts.
“I told the paramedics not to touch you. I didn’t know what you would do. So I talked you into getting off her and then called Dr. Zi from your phone. He said for them to take her straight to the ER. When they tried to get her clothes off so they could take her vitals and hook to the port in her arm, I saw the look in your eyes. I knew you were going to do something you would regret. So, I hit you.” I stare at him, unbelieving.
“You hit me?” I ask, needing him to confirm it.
“Yeah. Maybe a little too hard, but I figured you’d done something to me to justify it.” He smirks and I reach back to feel the knot on the back of my head.
“You hit me?” I still can’t believe it. Shady packed a powerful f*cking punch if it knocked me out cold.
“Well, technically, the butt of my gun hit you.”
“You motherf*cker.”
“What? You think I can take your big ass down with my fist? I’m barely one ninety and that’s soaking wet.” Bastard. “Look, I took care of everything, didn’t I? I insisted that they put you two in the same room. At first, they refused, but when I told Dr. Zi that if you woke up after what you’d been through, and Saylor wasn’t there that you’d lose your shit . . . well, let’s just say he made it happen.”
I look over at Saylor again, knowing Shady is right. There’s no telling the damage I would have done. I want to thank Shady, but Dr. Zi walks in and smiles when he sees me.
“Well, Dirk. Looks like you took a pretty nasty hit to the back of the head. You want to press charges?” he asks, and I don’t hesitate.
“Yes.” The doctor laughs and takes a seat in the chair next to me. I don’t like that he’s getting so close. It tells me that what he is about to say is important.
“The treatment didn’t work, Dirk.” I just stare at him and he looks down, avoiding my gaze. “We ran an MRI on Saylor, and the seizure was caused because the tumor has grown.” I think I’m going to puke, and reach over to grab the bottle of water Shady has between his fingers.
“We’re stopping the treatment, and it will take about a week for the last of the chemo to get out of her system. After that, her hair will start growing back and the other side effects will stop too.”
Hell, that’s wonderful news. I don’t understand why he looks so upset. I know they had a lot riding on this, hoping that it would work, but I can tell by the sadness in the doctor’s eyes that this has nothing to do with the loss of funding for the new study.
“Give it to me straight, Doc. I can handle it.” And I would. I wouldn’t allow myself to panic anymore. I couldn’t. It almost cost Saylor her life the last time I did.
He looks me dead in the eye, not bothering to hide the emotion in them. “If Saylor manages to live another two months, it will be a miracle, but not one we wish for. The position of the tumor is crucial, and if it grows any more, she will lose her eyesight. If it grows beyond that, she will lose her ability to communicate verbally. And beyond that, depending on which direction it spreads, it could affect her movement, her hearing, and possibly her memory.”
The thought of Saylor not being able to see wouldn’t affect me in the least. I would still get to look at her every day. If she couldn’t see and couldn’t talk, I could still talk to her and watch her smile and laugh. If she lost her mobility, I would carry her everywhere, but if she lost her memory, I would lose her.
“So, if we don’t wish for a miracle, what do we wish for?” I’m asking for his answer because I can’t bring myself to process my own.