Page 120 of The First Cut

“Get us to the hospital as fast as you can, Ferris.”

“On it, Prez.”

I try to open my eyes, but they’re too heavy so I give up. The smell of vomit makes me feel sick and embarrassed. I try to pull away from Hannibal, but he holds me tightly.

“I have sick in my hair. I don’t want to get it on you,” I whisper.

“I don’t give a single fuck, Lola. All I care about is you.”

“I’m sorry.” I feel more tears slip free, and god I hate crying.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Lola. Do you understand?” I hear Elmo’s voice from beside me.

“I killed a brother. He grabbed my ankle, and I just reacted. I shot him. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

There's silence for a moment before I feel Elmo moving closer. “Who did you shoot, Lola?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see his face. And then Driller was there and, and—” I hiccup as Hannibal soothes his hand through my hair, not giving a shit about the blood and vomit.

“That’s enough now. Don’t you worry, doll, everything’s going to be fine,” Hannibal murmurs gently as I feel exhaustion weighing me down.

I fight it, needing to tell him things first, just in case. “If I don’t make it?—”

“Don’t you talk like that, Lola. Don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses.

I grab his hand and squeeze. “If I don’t make it, love them enough for both of us.”

He groans like he’s in pain, but I keep going.

“I regret so many things, Hannibal. But not you. I’ll never regret being yours. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” I whisper, feeling my lips going numb. “I love you,” I force out before the darkness pulls me under.

Murmured voices and furious whispers wake me. I try to roll over but groan when it feels like someone stuck an ice pick through my brain. And that’s not the only thing that hurts. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. There isn’t a part of me that doesn’t hurt. Fuck, even my hair and nails hurt.

“Lola?”

I try to answer, I really do, but I can’t form the words on my lips. In the end, I let myself float away again.

The next time I wake up, my head feels a little clearer. It still hurts like hell, but my thoughts aren’t quite so jumbled. I open my eyes as much as I can, which honestly isn’t much. I’m in a hospital. Not that I needed my vision for that. Hospitals have a smell that people know the world over: disinfectant and sickness.

I turn my head and hiss at the throbbing. Holy heck, I won’t be doing that again any time soon.

“Lola? Can you hear me?” Hannibal’s worried voice comes from my left.

My mouth is so dry it’s hard to speak. “Hann..ibal.” I manage to get out, even though my throat is killing me. Before I canstay anything else, I dissolve into a coughing fit that leaves me gasping for air, with tears streaming down my face.

Once the worst of it has subsided, I manage to take a deep, stuttering breath. “The kids?”

“They’re fine. Byte’s gonna bring them here soon. Let me help you sit up a little so you can have some water.”

He adjusts the bed and helps move the pillows behind me, so I’m in a more comfortable position.

“What did the doctor say? How long until the swelling around my eyes goes down? I hate not being able to see properly.” It makes me paranoid that someone could sneak up on me. Given my current circumstances, I can’t pretend that my fears aren’t justified.

“Drink this first, and I’ll tell you what I know. Small sips for me, okay?”

I open my mouth when I feel the straw against my lips and do as he asks. The cold water feels heavenly on my throat, even though it hurts to swallow.

Once I’m done, I wait for him to put the water down and take a seat on the bed beside me. Lifting my hand, which has a cannula in the back, he slides his large one underneath and slips his fingers through mine.