Page 37 of Saving Tracey (Finding Hope #1)

Chapter Twenty-One

TREVOR

I leaned my head on Tracey's hospital bed, gripping her smaller hand in my own.

It had been three weeks since she had been shot, and she still hadn't woken up.

There was absolutely no movement from her at all.

The doctors said she lost a lot of blood, and it was up to God if she made it through this.

Tears fell down my face as that familiar pain of possibly never holding her again, never seeing her gorgeous, green eyes again stabbed me in my chest. I wanted my Tracey back.

Fuck, I missed her so goddamn much. I just wanted to see her smile at me again.

I was so tired of staring at her pale face.

I wanted to see that familiar blush tinting her cheeks again.

Dale and Glenda were worried senseless about me, as were Angelina and everyone else. Kaleb had put aside our differences, and even he was desperately trying to make me feel better.

But only having Tracey back would make everything okay again. I was nothing without her.

I had lost weight since that day, and I struggled to find any kind of silver lining in this entire situation.

I couldn't lose my girl. She was the one thing that helped me out of my darkness—the one person that helped me get better.

I hadn't been inked in fucking months, and it was all because of her. Tracey made me fucking feel better.

I didn't have that anymore.

I just wanted my baby girl back.

Fuck, those first few hours of waiting to hear any kind of news from her doctor were the longest fucking hours of my life. I would gladly return to my parents and have them starve me and beat me senseless than have to live through this fucking pain ever again.

Losing someone so fucking close to you—losing someone who meant the entire goddamn world to you—was a pain like no other, and I didn't wish it on my worst fucking enemy.

Lucas had been begging to come see Tracey, but I told Dale and Glenda I would flip my shit if they allowed him in here to see her. My little brother was traumatized enough. I didn't need him seeing the one girl he looked up to laying in a fucking hospital bed; fuck, practically her death bed.

I knew visiting hours were only from eight AM to eight PM, but after fighting with me for a couple of days about leaving, the doctors, nurses, and security realized that it was no use to try to get me to leave her side.

If this was as close as I could get to her while she was like this, I was fucking staying.

"Trev!" my little brother shouted, running into the room.

My head snapped up so fucking fast, I almost gave myself whiplash.

His enthusiastic face instantly fell when he looked at Tracey, and tears filled his dark eyes.

His bottom lip quivered when he looked up at me.

"Trev, what's wrong with Trace?" he asked, his voice wobbly, his eyes drawn back to Tracey.

I glared at Dale and Glenda when they entered the room and jumped up from my chair, grabbing Lucas off of his feet and holding him on my hip.

"Didn't I fucking tell you two not to let him in here?

!" I roared at them, making Lucas jump in my arms. I tightened my arms around him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"I didn't want him to fucking see her like this! "

"He got away from us, Trevor," Glenda told me, her tone gentle as she spoke to me.

"Fucking keep him at home,” I snarled at her. "He doesn't need to see her—"

A soft groan came from Tracey's hospital bed, and I thrust Lucas at Dale, rushing back over to her. She whimpered in pain when she tried to move, her eyes blinking open slowly.

"Tracey,” I breathed, gripping her hand, blinking rapidly. I was so fucking stunned that she was awake. The doctor didn’t think she would wake up for another few weeks, if she ever did at all.

She slowly turned her head to look at me. "Trevor . . ." she whispered, the sound of my name barely making it past her dry, chapped lips.

"Get me her fucking doctor,” I barked at Glenda.

Dale rushed over to her bed. I ran my fingertips down her face, finding it hard to believe that she was awake and looking at me with those beautiful green eyes again that I had missed so fucking much.

"Fuck, baby, I can't believe you're awake," I whispered.

"My back . . ." she said hoarsely, wincing as she did so.

Dale put a glass of water to her lips. "Drink some of this. It will help your sore throat."

She drank the water slowly, finishing the glass off right as her doctor came into the room. "Ah, it's so good to finally see you awake, Tracey." The only surprise at her wakeful state was a slight raise of his eyebrows.

He pulled a metal mallet-looking thing out of his pocket and lifted the blanket off of her feet.

She watched him with cautious eyes. I squeezed her hand in reassurance, knowing he was just checking to see if she had feeling in her legs and feet.

"Tracey, I'm going to run this along the bottom of your feet. Tell me if you can feel it, okay?"

He ran the metal tool along the bottom of her foot, and she jerked her leg back, instantly wincing in pain when she did. I rubbed soothing circles on her hand as she closed her eyes, breathing shallowly. "Fuck,” she choked out, her grip on my hand tight as she waited for the pain to subside some.

The doctor nodded his head. "Good. I'm sorry if you're ticklish,” he apologized. “I have to do this to make sure you didn't lose feeling in either of your legs due to the gunshot wound being so close to your spine."

She nodded, gripping my hand as he ran it along her other foot.

I clamped my hand on her thigh before she could jerk that leg up and hurt her back again.

She shot me a grateful smile before she looked back at the doctor.

The doctor nodded, a smile tilting his lips.

"Good. This is really good, Tracey. It means you're not paralyzed, though it may be a while before you can walk properly seeing as the bullet almost hit your spine.

You're going to feel a lot of pain every time you try to walk, move your legs, or use anything that requires using that part of your spine, but you were incredibly lucky, young lady. "

She nodded, looking up at me. I sighed at the look on her face. I knew she was worried that she wouldn’t be able to walk again on her own. Leaning down, I kissed her softly, forcing myself not to deepen it. Three weeks without feeling her lips on mine had been way too fucking long.

"I'll work with you every day to help you move and walk again.”

She nodded, giving me a small smile. "Your vitals look really good, Tracey,” the doctor said, bringing our attention back to him. "I want to monitor you one more day, and then, depending on how you're feeling in the morning, we may send you home, alright?"

She nodded in understanding. He left the room, and she patted the bed beside her. "Sit with me?" she asked, her voice still a little hoarse from not being used in so long.

I brought her hand up to my lips, placing kisses along her knuckles. "I want to lay down with you more than anything, baby, but you're hurt, and me getting on the bed isn't going to help your back."

She sighed in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling. I chuckled softly, sitting back down in the chair I had been occupying my entire time being here with her, still grasping her hand in my own. "What is today?" She turned her head toward me, looking at me with her beautiful green eyes.

"It's the twenty-third," I informed her softly. "You've been out for three weeks, baby."

She tightened her hand around mine. "Did he escape?" she whispered so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her.

I clenched my jaw. "He's rotting in fucking hell." She flinched at my tone, and I sighed, running my free hand down my face. "Sorry, baby," I whispered, kissing her hand again. "Just thinking about that bastard makes me pissed."

She shook her head at me, her way of telling me that I didn't need to apologize to her. "What do you mean he's in hell?" she asked softly.

"They had to gun him down," I informed her quietly.

I watched Tracey collapse to the floor, the most painful, horrifying scream I had ever heard in my fucking life ripping from her throat. I ran over, ignoring the gunshots as they tried to get the gun out of her dad's hand and detain him.

" Tracey !" I cried, dropping to my knees in front of her.

Fuck, not my baby girl. Not her, God, please.

I couldn't let her leave me. Fuck, the thought of losing her was almost unbearable.

Blood was pouring from her back, quickly forming a puddle around her.

She was fading in and out; I could see it in her eyes.

I barely registered her blood seeping through my jeans as I fell to the floor next to her.

All I could do was stare at her face, begging her not to leave me.

Fuck, I loved this girl. I fucking needed her.

"He's down!" I heard someone shout.

Paramedics rushed in at the same time as the gunshots stopped, pushing me out of the way to get to her. I collapsed against a bench, sobbing into my hands. She was unconscious, and they needed all of the room they could to make sure she was okay.

I was fucking helpless. I didn't know what the fuck to do. I felt like my fucking chest was being ripped the fuck apart inside.

I could barely fucking breathe through the pain and fear.

"Hey, Trevor, come on, man," Kaleb murmured from beside me, shaking my shoulder gently.

I blinked up at him, trying to make out his face through my tears.

He was crying, too, but nowhere near as hard as I was.

"The paramedics are on their way to the hospital, and they're doing everything they can for her.

Come on, man. Let's go to the hospital,” he coaxed, trying to get me to get me on my feet.

He stood up, holding his hand out to me. I grasped it, letting him pull me up to my feet. He clapped my shoulder comfortingly. "Come on, man. Tracey needs you to be strong for her,” he reminded me.

I turned my head to look at the commotion of the paramedics across the courtroom, but Kaleb shook his head at me. "He's dead. He wouldn't release the gun, and he shot two officers, one of them dead. He's done with, Trevor. Tracey will never have to worry about that bastard ever again.”

I shook my head, bringing myself out of the nightmare in my head.

I had fucking dreamt of her unconscious body on that floor every time I had fallen asleep.

It wasn't something I would ever forget easily, and it definitely wasn't something that was going to go into the back of my brain anytime soon.

"Are you okay?" Tracey's quietly asked, breaking through my thoughts.

I looked up at her. She reached forward, wincing as she did so, and brushed a tear off of my cheek. I scooted my chair closer to her bed, shooting her a disapproving look for hurting herself. She gave me a weak smile, making me smile at her as well.

There was that beautiful smile I had missed so fucking much.

"I'm fine, baby girl," I murmured, leaning over to kiss her.

Her heart rate sped up on the heart monitor, and I grinned against her lips, loving the effect I still had on her. I hoped these powerful feelings never faded.

She opened her eyes, smiling up at me with the smile I had missed so fucking much—a smile she reserved solely for me. "I'm okay now, you know that, right?" She reached up with her hand to run her fingertips over the stubble on my jaw.

I nodded. "I know, baby.” Sure, she still had a lot to work through, but that bastard was out of her life for good, and she could finally begin to heal like she should have been all along.

She gripped my shirt in her fist, pulling her lips back down to mine.

Fuck, I had missed this girl.