Page 41 of A Million Boss Kisses

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Marissa Bentley

M y hand was locked in Yaseer’s as we barreled through the hospital and into the ICU room that Lil Q was in.

An audible gasp escaped me when I saw my baby laid up in that bed with tubes and monitors surrounding him.

The rhythmic beeping filled the silence as I approached his bedside.

His face was pale, and the oxygen line resting beneath his nose brought another round of tears to my already puffy eyes.

I heard movement behind us and spun around to face the doctor. Yaseer pulled me into his strong embrace as the doctor stepped forward, her apologetic facial expression notifying me that she was about to deliver more devastating news.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Bentley,” she started, and we didn’t bother to correct her because they made it clear that only family was allowed in the ICU room.

“I’m Dr. Blake, and I performed surgery on Quinten Jr. when he was brought in.

During surgery, we discovered that one of Quinten’s kidneys was already functioning poorly… ”

“Really?” I blurted, my face frowned up.

“Yes,” she nodded. “It’s actually not uncommon for reduced kidney functioning to go undiagnosed until something serious happens.

Unfortunately, the bullet caused severe damage to his other kidney by tearing through major blood vessels and destroying enough of the kidney tissue that it couldn’t be saved.

Removal was the only option to stop bleeding and prevent further complications. ”

“What does this mean?” I seethed, just ready for her to spit the shit out.

“Quinten’s remaining kidney cannot support his body’s needs alone. We’re starting dialysis to manage his kidney function, but the reality is that he needs a transplant very soon.”

My heart felt like it stopped, and my knees buckled beneath me.

Yaseer held me up, ushering me over to a chair.

“Because timing is critical, we’re going to need to test close family members immediately to see if anyone can be a living donor to help bypass the long waiting list and give Quinten the best chance. ”

“Lil Q is O negative, so I know that’s going to make the process harder. I’m the only other one in our household that’s O negative! Quincy and Quinten Sr. are not,” I fretted, taking short, labored breaths.

“I’m O negative,” Yaseer gently informed me. “We can both get tested.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s great news,” Dr. Blake chirped. “O negative is rare, but having two possible living donors gives us options.”

“Can we get tested today? Right now?” I quizzed.

“Absolutely.” She offered a comforting smile. “We will begin with a blood draw to check your compatibility. Blood type, tissue markers, and a few other things. If everything looks good, we’ll schedule full evaluations.”

“Where do we need to go?” Yaseer inquired.

“You guys don’t have to move a muscle. Relax here, and I’ll have the transplant coordinator send a nurse up to draw your blood right here so you guys can stay with your son.”

“Thank you so much, Dr. Blake,” I offered a tearful smile.

“You are very welcome. Let’s remain optimistic and take everything one step at a time.

Quinten is still under sedation and will likely be drowsy or drifting in and out of sleep for the rest of the day.

He’s stable, and as long as there are no complications, he’ll remain in the ICU for a couple more days before we move him to a step-down unit.

From there, it depends on how quickly his body heals and whether he’ll need dialysis support.

Right now, we’re estimating a one to two week hospital stay.

Upon discharge, he’ll still need to rest at home, avoid any strenuous activity, and return for follow-ups and lab work. ”

I nodded, processing everything she said with Yaseer rubbing my back.

“Understood,” he responded to her.

Dr. Blake exited the hospital room, and shortly afterwards, a nurse arrived with a card and collection tubes. Yaseer offered his arm without hesitation, and I was right behind him. I was usually a big cry baby when it came to needles, but today I took it like a champ for my boy.

After a silent hour or two, Yaseer’s phone rang and he answered the call, offering a few “yeahs” and telling Lil Q’s hospital room number before ending the call.

“That was Tech, they got Quincy back. As soon as they wired the money, they dropped him in the middle of Rowlett Park with his phone. Tech said he’s fine and he’s bringing him up here, but not coming up because he’s going to dump Quincy’s phone to see if he can use that to find out where they were holding him. ”

I felt a large sense of relief take over me. Learning that Troy had a hand in his grandson’s kidnapping certainly made me feel like he would not let any harm come Quincy’s way, but I still needed to lay eyes on him. These weren’t the type of experiences I wanted my children to endure.

“Sir, you guys can’t come in here! I told you visitation is limited to immediate family, and Quinten already has two visitors.” I heard a nurse yelling in the hallway. “We are going to have to call security.”

“Yeah, and tell that motha fucka I told you to suck my dick too,” Uncle Vincent retorted once he got to our doorway. His deep baritone was one that I could never mistake, so I didn’t need visual confirmation when he grabbed his crotch area and blew a kiss at whoever he was talking to.

“I can’t handle him right now,” I mumbled.

“Relax, bae.” Yaseer soothed me, rubbing his hand up and down my back.

“I gotta find out from the streets that somebody snatched my fucking nephew and shot one?” He roared, entering the room with his eyes glued on Lil Q.

His small entourage flooded in behind him, cluttering the hotel room.

Uncle Vincent’s steps slowed, and he waved his hands back.

“Post up outside and somebody shut that door when y’all step out,” he commanded.

The pain in his face mirrored mine. His feet didn’t stop moving until he was holding the side of Lil Q’s hospital bed.

“And what the fuck are you doing holding Yaseer’s hand? Where the fuck is your puss’ass husband? I’m gonna fucking slaughter his whole family if something happens to Quincy. It’s his job to protect y’all! Where the fuck he at? He ain’t hit my line once!” He roared.

Yaseer rose slowly, releasing the grip he had on my hand and letting the motion of his palm gliding up and down my back stop.

He stood tall at six-three, but my uncle was built like a tree and still had a good four inches on him.

Even so, Yaseer’s presence radiated power and confidence in this daunting situation.

The entire time we were searching for Uncle Vincent, I was too flustered to think about all of the secrets I was keeping from him or the optics of me dangling off Yaseer’s arm while married to Quinten.

“Uncle Vincent,” I jumped to my feet but didn’t get the chance to finish my statement.

Yaseer shifted slightly in front of me, a subtle move that placed his body between mine and the wrath of my uncle.

He reached behind him, and I met his hand in the middle, stepping forward until my cheek pressed against the center of his back, seeking the calm in the chaos.

Yaseer gently squeezed my hand to convey a silent message: ‘I got this.’

“I get you mad, I would be too behind mine. We been blowing your phone up since we found out. But let me catch you up, Lil Q is stable, but he needs a new kidney. If you O negative then you should get tested to see if you would be a match.” Uncle Vincent’s nostrils flared, but Yaseer didn’t flinch to cease his words.

“Quincy is straight. He’s on his way up here now, and we are working on finding the people who carried out Troy’s plans.

Before people get to talking for real, I want to come to you as a man and let you know that Marissa’s marriage to Quinten is over, and we have been getting to know each other.

I love her and I don’t take the fact that she’s with me lightly.

I’m not just holding her hand, I’m ready to shoulder everything that comes with being with her. ”

Uncle Vincent shifted uneasily, his eyes looking between me and Yaseer.

“You trust me to move your money. You can trust me with them too.”

The room remained silent, the tension thick, but Yaseer stood here every inch of the man he thought he was.

Unapologetic, protective, and ready for whatever behind me.

I spent so many years with a man who couldn’t stand up to my uncle or his father that I got used to stepping in between them. This was refreshing.

Yaseer’s phone rang on the chair and it was Tech calling.

“That’s probably Quincy calling,” I released Yaseer’s hand and lunged for my phone.

“Hello.”

“Ma, they telling me that there are already too many people in his room, so I can’t come back to see my brother, man!” Quincy’s voice cracked.

“It’s okay baby. I’m going to clear the room so you can come sit with him. Calm down, Quincy. He’s going to be okay. I’m coming out now.”

“Alright, ma.”

I ended the call and cupped Yaseer and Uncle Vincent’s shoulders, happy for the distraction. They were still staring each other down, neither one of them willing to fold.

“Come on, let’s go to the waiting room so Quincy can come back. I’m also going to see if they will let Jameera back here. She’s been in the waiting room this entire time,” I stated, nudging them towards the door.

When we entered the waiting room my eyes instantly connected with Quincy’s. I could see he had been crying, his eyes were puffy and bloodshot red. He sprinted over to me, and I opened my arms to embrace him.

“I’m sorry, ma,” he bawled, his fingers fisting the back of my shirt.

My boy was falling apart, his body shook as his tears soaked my shirt.

“They shot him right in front of me. I tried… I swear I tried to get to him, but there were six of them. They shot my brother in front of me and left him there.”