Craving Resurrection Page 106
I suppose, though, that wasn’t altogether true. Because at one point, I’d needed two people more than I’d ever thought possible. One of them was leading me down a corridor at that very moment, looking for our hotel room.
“Only brought one change of clothes in my saddle bags, but if ye want the t-shirt I got, it’s yers,” he mumbled, pushing open the door to the room.
“I’m good in this,” I told him, walking ahead of him and straight into the bathroom.
I needed to wash my face and I’d had to pee for what felt like hours. I stayed in there longer than I needed to, but eventually, I pulled off my shoes and socks and walked back into the bedroom, carrying them in my arms.
Patrick was doing something on his phone when I came out, but looked up when I sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the shoes.
“Ot’er side, love,” he said, making me look up in surprise.
“Huh?”
“I sleep by de door.”
I nodded absently and stood back up, remembering the first night he’d rolled over to face the door instead of sleeping wrapped around me. I told myself that I didn’t care how he slept anymore, but a small part of me twinged at the thought that he still did that.
He came toward me as I sat back down, and my eyes burned as I looked up to meet his. God, they hurt. I was so fucking worn out.
“Better lie down before ye fall down,” he said quietly, reaching behind me to pull the blankets down the bed. “Climb in.”
He took my shoes and socks out of my hand and unwrapped my purse from over my shoulder as soon as I laid down, then pulled the blankets back up to my chin, tucking them around my sides.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a step back. “Forgot where I was for a moment.”
I closed my eyes and passed out as I felt him lie down on the other side of the bed. Knowing he was there meant that I slept deeper than I had in the many years he’d been gone.
I instinctively knew that nothing could hurt me when Patrick was there.
It was when he left that bad things happened.
***
We spent the next day at the hospital, becoming familiar with Nix’s room and the cafeteria. There was something I loved about the food there. It reminded me of school lunches when I was a kid—grilled cheese sandwiches and hamburgers that tasted satisfyingly like rubber. The coffee sucked, though, and by that evening, I was dragging ass again. I was too old to function on four hours of sleep.
“Gonna head out for a bit,” Patrick told Nix, watching him closely. “Boys wanna see ye before we go.”
I wasn’t sure what passed between them in that look, but minutes later, Grease, Dragon and Casper were filing into the room, their large bodies crowding it a little too much for me to be comfortable.
“Jesus, Nix, they got you good,” Casper said in surprise.
Nix flinched, but nodded silently.
“Hell, that’s nothin’. Shoulda seen Dragon when Poet got through with him,” Grease chimed in, leaning forward to shake Nix’s uncasted hand. “Good to see you, man.”
“Yeah, you too.” The swelling in Nix’s mouth had gone down a bit, his words more clear than they’d been the night before.
“I was pissin’ blood for weeks,” Dragon grumbled, nodding at Nix. “Have fun with that.”
I watched my son’s body go from completely rigid to relaxed within moments, and I could have kissed those three boys.
“Stop fuckin’ complainin’, ye wean.” Patrick grumbled.
“I only understood about fifty-four percent of what you just said,” Casper commented to Patrick in bewilderment. “Did anyone understand that shit?”
Nix started to laugh and then winced. “His accent always gets thick like that when he’s around my mum. Never fails.”
“Yeah, but do you have any clue what he’s sayin’—”
“Met your man last night,” Grease interrupted Casper and I braced myself. I’d seen the way they’d been staring at Mat. “I can see the draw—dude’s almost as pretty as a chick.”
Nix laughed then groaned, but the smile stayed on his face. “Mum calls him Ken.”
“Yeah, he does kinda look like one of the Barbies Trix has lyin’ around,” Dragon commented, making all the men laugh.
“I’m mostly jealous that he’s prettier than me,” I joked, winking at Nix.
“Not possible,” Patrick argued with a small smile. “Ye good here?”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Mat should be back in a while with Nix’s stuff.”
“We’ll see ye soon, yeah?” Patrick said, turning to Nix and kissing him on the forehead.
Dragon and Casper’s mouths dropped open in surprise, but Grease just smirked.
“Let’s go, boys,” Patrick called as he walked away without waiting for them to follow.
“You didn’t say your mom was hot,” Casper complained to Nix as they reached the doorway, which had Grease shoving him into the wall so hard I knew he’d have bruises.
“Keep pushin’ and Poet’s gonna have your balls,” I heard him mumble.
Nix and I were quiet for a few minutes, and the lack of noise was kind of nice. We hadn’t had much time to just be over the past almost twenty-four hours, and it was comforting to be in the same room with my boy and not have to fill the silence with chatter.
We understood each other better than anyone else, and I wasn’t sure if that was normal, considering my son would be thirty soon… but I didn’t really care, either. For so long, we’d only had each other. We were a family of two, and luckily for me, I didn’t seem to annoy him too badly. I knew that he had his own life outside of me—Mat was a big part of that—and he knew that I needed space. We worked in a way that only two people who knew each other inside and out could. My kid was a genuinely cool guy and even though he was grown, I still loved hanging out with him.