Page 9 of The Saviors: Part Two

About the same. They think his kidneys are shutting down. We’re waiting for a specialist now.

I’m so fucking sorry.

This isn’t on you. And Gavin is a fucking Augustus. He’ll come out of this.

How are you?

I’m fine except for having babysitters twenty-four-seven.

You need them. Take your meds and quit giving Evie shit.

I look at Evie, and she’s looking everywhere but at me. “You told on me?”

She shrugs, and Micah covers a laugh with a cough. “You won’t listen to us. I thought maybe Ghost could talk some sense into you.”

“That’s low, Evie. Real damn low.”

I will as soon as someone calls that they got out.

Ghost

You better, or I’m sending Caden to pester your ass.

Noted. Let me know about Gavin. Love you, brother.

I will. Love you too.

I sling my phone on the coffee table and twist on the couch to put my feet on the floor. The tingling starts in my toes, and I try not to scream in frustration. “Who’s helping me take a piss?”

“Not it!” Evie says with a laugh.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t have happened anyway,La mia stella.” Micah comes over to me and slings my arm around his shoulders, then helps me stand. We make our way slowly to the bathroom.

“What? Are you afraid she’ll see what a real man is made of?”

“You know, I can push you down a flight of stairs, and no one will know?”

I laugh despite myself. “They would miss me, and then you would be on the Saviors’ hit list.”

“Ahh. I’m so fucking scared.” Micah reaches into the bathroom and flips the light on. “You good from here?”

“Not unless you want to hold it for me. I need two hands to control this beast.” He glares and shuts the door in my face. Humor is my defense mechanism, and I’ve been relying on it a lot lately. I’m just glad no one calls me on it. If I didn’t laugh, I’d fall apart.

I take care of business, willing my legs to hold me up that long. I wash my hands and open the door to find Micah leaning against the wall on the other side. I wrap my arm around his shoulders, take one step, and my legs give out. He catches me before I hit the ground, holding my body weight up.

“Fuck,” I groan when his arm crushes my sore ribs.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Van! I need a hand!” Van comes busting ass around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of us.

“What do you need me to do?” he asks.

“Kill me. Jesus Christ, just kill me now.”

“Stop being fucking dramatic,” Micah says. “Get his other side.”

They get me between them and practically drag me back to the living room. They get me onto the couch, and Evie throws the blanket over my legs. Then picks up pills and a glass of water. “Take them.” I open my mouth, and the look she gives me makes me snap it closed. “We’ll wake you up when we hear something. Those pills are going to help you if you’d stop being fucking hard-headed and take them.”

I take them from her hand, throw them into my mouth, and then wash it down with water. I stick my tongue out so she can see in my mouth. “Happy now?”