A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4) (10 page)

He looked down and ran his thumb along Jessie's cheek. "I want to do that for you…always." He reached down and placed a soft, gentle kiss against Jessie's forehead. "Please, wake up. I miss your smile."

* * * *

Darkness. Nothing but an endless void and…

Beep. Beep.

That sound. That annoying, consistently aggravating sound that pierced every nerve ending. He wanted to run. He needed to escape. He needed to hear the other sound instead. The voice. The steady deep ebb and flow of that tone he loved.

Beep. Beep.

He looked over his shoulder, trying to avoid the monster that haunted him. The one that hovered just around the corner, waiting for him to let his guard down. He tried to straighten his arms to feel his way in the darkness, but it was useless. His arms refused to lift when his mind commanded. The panic started to escalate and his heart pounded madly.

He couldn't hear the voice that accompanied him in the darkness. The voice of the man who watched over him and would protect him with every ounce of power in that lean-muscled, strong body.

Aidan.

His guardian angel.

There was always a sound, either the voice he craved or the steady beeping that offered no comfort. Never both at the same time. Sometimes, the voice accompanied a soothing, protective warmth in the air that surrounded him. Heat on his hands and against his cheek, forehead, or neck. A small current would start at the point of contact and travel throughout his body, shooting a bolt of determination to continue to seek the light in this abyss, where the voice sounded clearer. He needed that voice, the one that had become his tether to sanity in the darkness. The smooth, quiet tone of Aidan's voice always lingered in the air like a steady melodic song guiding him in the dark. Even if some of the words were whispered and indistinct, they were there, making him aware of his presence and keeping the monster at bay.

Beep. Beep.

He would give anything to hear that voice right now. At least he felt the warmth around his hand. That always seemed to soothe him a tiny bit in the uncertainty of the blackness that enveloped him.

He pushed toward the faint hint of light ahead. The beeping became louder. His legs weighed heavily as if stepping in quicksand, almost too much to bear, requiring more force than his body could handle. He willed his mind to push forward and place each foot in front of the other, fighting his body's need to stand still. His breathing slowed as his heartbeat sped. It was odd. His body seemed to be fighting its own war while he seemed to trudge along the dark path to the flickering light.

He gasped when he heard the low, haunting laugh of the monster. He glanced over his shoulder and saw nothing but darkness. But he was there. Waiting. As he always was.

He turned and looked ahead, willing himself to reach the flickering light that called to him. He fought the exhaustion racking his body, pushing ahead with determination and fighting the need to take a break.

The light flickered a little more.

The haunting laugh echoed in the blackness again, taunting him.

He needed to hear the voice. His mind and body struggled, weighing him down and tying him to that spot in the darkness as he watched the teasing flicker of light ahead. He couldn't coordinate his limbs and frustration bloomed. He yelled for Aidan, begging for him, but his voice wasn't working. He closed his eyes and wanted to give in. He needed the strength that voice fueled within him.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

* * * *

Aidan jolted upright in the chair and inhaled sharply. He'd swear he felt it. He looked at Jessie's still body lying in bed. The virtual place markers around him showed Jessie hadn't shifted a millimeter. He looked up at the monitor and there was the single, subtle spike in the graph.

His own heartbeat sped.

The steady rhythm had changed. Easy-to-miss, but something was different. He leaned forward, reached out, and ran his fingers through Jessie's hair. "I'm right here, waiting for you. You know how impatient I am. Just open your eyes or move your hand." He swallowed heavily and tried to keep the hope at bay. "C'mon, Jess. Don't try to do everything at once. Just do one thing."

He looked up at the monitor when he heard a break in the rhythm again. He smiled as hope began to spark. He gently ran his thumb back and forth along Jessie's cheek. He looked down at his other hand solidly planted above Jessie's.

Nothing.

Yet.

"Jess, wake up. Even if only for a second. Just—"

He held his breath when Jessie's eyelids moved back and forth quickly as if in a deep REM sleep state. He waited until finally, he released his breath when a hint of crystal blue peeked through a tiny sliver.

"Hey there," he said, smiling as Jessie's eyelids barely fluttered open. He reached out and slapped the nurse's call button, not shifting his focus from the blue eyes staring back at him. He ran his fingers along the front of Jessie's hair. The beeping spiked again.

Repeatedly.

"Calm down. You're safe here." Through the drug-filled gaze staring back at him, there was recognition, but also confusion, fear, and something else he couldn't quite peg. Maybe frustration? "You're in the hospital. You've been out of it for a while. So you need to give your mind and body a chance to sync. Don't push it."

The tension seemed to ease in the stare.

A hint of pressure pushed against the thumb of his other hand. The corners of Aidan's lips curled into a smile and a flutter replaced the ache that had lingered for the last two weeks in his chest. He laid one hand under Jessie's—palm to palm—and continued to stroke Jessie's cheek with the other.

"Yes, Mr. Calloway?" the nurse's voice echoed through the speaker.

"He woke up!" he excitedly yelled, loud enough to probably wake the other patients on the floor, unable to control the emotions twisting his stomach.

He took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere," he said, ignoring the crack in his voice. He half-stood from the seat and reached over, silencing the beep of the monitor. He sat again and resumed the slow stroke of Jessie's cheek. "Go back to sleep. I'll be right here waiting for you to wake up again."

Jessie's eyelids slowly closed again and the graph on the monitor steadied to its usual pattern. Aidan took a few, slow, calming deep breaths to steady his own heartbeat. For the first time in the past few weeks, an inner strength returned and hope resurrected. The silence of the room didn't unsettle him. In fact, it seemed to calm him as he focused on the sound of each breath passing Jessie's lips.

Those perfect lips he hadn't been able to see for two weeks, hidden under the strap holding the breathing tube. He wanted to reach out and touch them, kiss them…taste them.

He took a few deep breaths to calm the swirl of emotions warring within. Jessie would come back to him, and he was going to be right there by his side when he opened his eyes.
That
had to be his focus, not a hopeless daydream. Aidan glanced up when he heard a noise by the door, smiling when he spotted four of the night-shift nurses huddled in the corner.

"The doctor's on his way," Nancy whispered, shooing the nurses out of the room.

He nodded, eyeing the steady peaks on the monitor before returning his focus to Jessie. With one last, centering deep breath, he calmed his nerves before doing what had become another ritual in the last few weeks. "Did I ever tell you about the case with that guy who kept leaving a polka dot scarf at the scene of each crime?"

He'd ramble on about silly cases, inept criminals who missed their calling in life as hosts of idiot bloopers. Those random cases that made everyone laugh at the precinct because there was just no way a criminal could lack that much common sense. Those were the cases he shared with Jessie when his insomnia was in full force. The ones that were rare but would make Jessie laugh if he were awake and mentally present in the room. Nothing negative, no homicide cases, nothing with trauma, gore, or heartbreak. He hoped the funny stories and tone of his voice would provide some comfort to Jessie in his drug-induced state.

He smiled, not sure if it was a result of the story he'd told or of the hope that continued to bubble to the surface. He didn't care. He'd talk about anything and everything silly, funny, with pixie dust and unicorns if he had to. Jessie was coming back to him, and that was all that mattered.

PART 2:

Recovering

Jessie tugged the edge of the bedsheet, waiting for the doctor's final evaluation. His reflexes and motor skills were a little slow, but the doctor assured him they would improve. And once the drugs were completely flushed from his system, his sometimes-fuzzy mind would clear up as well.

He remembered Cole herding their mob of friends into the room the day he'd come out of the coma, two weeks ago, and the collective sigh of relief from the standing-room-only audience as they waited for him to react to the pen running down the flat of his foot. Of course, that was the most inopportune time to release a giggle. A grown man giggling. The only thing that prevented him from dying of embarrassment at that very moment was the huge smile that split Aidan's face. The most stunning, breathtaking smile he had ever seen.

Aidan. His stoic, bulldog bodyguard ready to fight off anyone who didn't treat Jessie as if he were a king perched on his throne rather than a recently awakened coma patient. He didn't think it was possible to love the man any more than he already did.

He was so wrong.

For almost a year and a half, he had worked alongside Aidan during any spare moment they could share on weekends or between their work schedules. They'd go through every detail of each case—sometimes more often than needed just to spend extra time together. When they worked weekends, those times were spent at Aidan's house, but Jessie would find an excuse to visit the precinct or text him if a new idea or approach came to mind. They worked effortlessly together, sometimes over lunch or dinner. But he wouldn't deny he wanted far more than friendship with the one man who seemed to always take the time to listen to anything and everything he said. The one man who always respected him and made him feel like an equal. Every moment together added another drop into his already overflowing love bucket for Aidan.

"Everything seems to be healing well," Dr. Green said, writing notes in his chart, pulling Jessie from his thoughts. "Your blood levels are coming back normal so there are no complications from the splenectomy. But it's always best to not take that for granted, especially if you catch a cold or run a fever."

Jessie nodded.

"And it's my understanding you didn't go with our recommended trauma therapist, but you are speaking with a…Dr. Engel. So everything seems to be in order."

"When can I go home?" Jessie croaked then cleared his throat, still battling with the random slight hoarseness of his voice after the removal of the breathing tube. Aidan instinctively reached over, pouring a cup of water for him. Jessie smiled as he took the cup and a small sip.

"Not until you're able to walk and handle the basics on your own, so it'll be a few weeks. We can discharge you and set you up with home visits with a nurse, but I would prefer knowing you can walk down the hallway here without help. Okay?"

Jessie nodded.

"Any other questions?"

He tugged on the edge of the bedsheet again.

"Jess, tell him about the nightmares," Aidan said.

He looked up at Aidan, his cheeks heating as a flood of memories of the last few nights took center stage in his mind. The nightmares seemed to haunt him and only lessened if Aidan held his hand while he slept. Something about Aidan's strong, firm, yet gentle touch seemed to give him the support he needed to guard himself against the monster that always came to him in the darkness.

Dr. Green crossed his arms. "Nightmares or hallucinations?"

"Only happens when I'm sleeping so I'm guessing nightmares."

"Is that common?" Aidan asked.

"Some patients have reported similar issues. It's a possible side effect from the sedatives we administered during the coma, but they'll lessen with time. Have you mentioned it to your trauma therapist?"

He nodded.

"Okay, so we're covering it on both fronts. We need to monitor the change there as well."

Jessie sighed.
Wonderful
. Until then he'd have to deal with that damn monster laughing and reaching for him when he tried to get some sleep, even though the demon wasn't really there.

The doctor proceeded to make additional notes in the chart. "I'm adding more time to your physical therapy schedule so we can work on building your muscle strength back up. But I don't want you pushing things too quickly and risking your recovery. It's important you take your pain meds if your ribs cause any discomfort with your therapy. That's why they're there."

Jessie nodded again.

Dr. Green silently watched him, probably gauging how much his nodding was an actual agreement or dismissal. The doctor finally turned away and deposited the chart in the holder on his way out the door, leaving him alone in the room with Aidan.