Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Knight chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Different rooms, smartass. Different surgeons. Same game plan.”
“Language,” I admonished automatically, though without heat.
“Sorry,” Knight said, not looking sorry at all. “Different rooms, smart aleck.”
Brynn rolled her eyes, but I caught the smile she tried to hide. This banter, this forced normalcy in the face of something so monumental. I thought they’d finally found their way of steadying themselves with each other. And that trust was worth everything.
“I love you, Knight,” I said, leaning down to kiss him gently. “So much it hurts.”
Knight kissed my hand. “I love you too, Lavender. Always have. Always will.”
Brynn glanced at Knight, hesitation evident in her expression. Knight saved her from whatever internal struggle she was having. “It’s okay, kid. You don’t have to say it.”
“I know,” she replied, her chin lifting slightly. “But… I do. Kind of. Love you, I mean. Even if you’re a pain in my ass sometimes.”
Knight’s face transformed, eleven years of loss and longing momentarily visible in the softening around his eyes. “Love you too, Brynn. More than I can express.”
The nurse cleared her throat gently. “We really need to get going.” Behind her was a second team of nurses for Brynn.
“I thought Knight would go first,” I said to the same nurse, my voice wavering ever so slightly.
“He is. But the second team is ready for Brynn. They like to take some extra prep time to make sure everything is as they expect before the actual organ removal.”
I nodded. “After everything we’ve gone through the last twenty-four hours, that extra work is much appreciated.”
“Which is why we’re doing it.” She leaned in and gripped my shoulder. “I promise, we’ll take good care of both of them.”
Brynn’s gurney began to move, and Knight’s orderlies positioned themselves to follow. I stood frozen between them, suddenly unsure who to follow, who to touch last, what final words to leave them with.
“We’ll be back before you know it,” Knight said, his voice steady despite the emotion I could see in his eyes. “And then you’ll have to put up with both of us being insufferable while we recover.”
“Mr. Leahy, we need to move now,” his orderly said.
I leaned down and kissed him deeply, not caring who was watching. When I pulled back, his black eyes were warm with love.
I watched as they wheeled him toward the door, following close behind as they pushed both gurneys down the corridor toward the operating suites. By some coincidence, or perhaps the nurses had done it on purpose, Knight’s gurney caught up with Brynn’s at the intersection of two hallways.
For a moment, they were side by side, father and daughter, about to give and receive the most profound gift possible. Knight reached across the space between them, his tattooed fingers curled into a light fist.
“Hey,” he called softly. “I want a rematch on that game when we’re back on our feet. You hustled me on that last round.”
Brynn turned her head toward him, that familiar half-smile spreading across her face. “I’d be happy to kick your ass again,” she replied, reaching out to fist bump him. “Anytime.”
“Language,” Knight and I said in perfect unison.
Brynn actually laughed, the sound echoing in the hallway. “You two are already annoying as a team.”
Then the moment was over. The gurneys separated, each heading toward different operating rooms. I stood at the intersection, watching them both being wheeled away from me, feeling physically torn in half. The last thing I saw before the doors closed was Knight’s hand raised in a final wave, and Brynn’s blue hair splayed across her pillow.
I pressed my hand to my mouth. Now came the hardest part. The waiting, the hoping, the desperate prayer that I would soon have them both back, forever changed but forever mine.
Chapter Fourteen
Knight
I shifted in the hospital recliner that had been molded to my ass over the past five days, ignoring the burning ache radiating from my own surgical scar. The nurses had stopped trying to enforce visiting hours with me around day three, as well as trying to keep me in the fucking hospital bed. Maybe it was the tattoos on my face or the permanent scowl that made my dissent clear, but more likely it was because I’d made friends with the night shift supervisor by ensuring the staff break room never ran out of decent coffee. Whatever the reason, they now worked around me like I was just another piece of medical equipment in Brynn’s room.
Brynn stirred restlessly in her sleep, her face pale against the white hospital sheets. IV lines snaked from her thin arm like translucent vines, feeding her the cocktail of anti-rejection meds and painkillers the doctors insisted she needed. Her blue hair had lost some of its vibrancy, lying flat against the pillow. I leaned forward, resisting the urge to brush a strand from her forehead. We weren’t quite there yet.