I expect him to ask more questions, but instead, he stays quiet, like he’s processing the little bit of information I just gave him.
Each passing minute is a vice being tightened around my heart. I flinch at every nurse or doctor that walks by, thinking it’s going to be an update on Johnny.
A couple hours go by with no news. I hang tightly to the idea that he’s still alive, because I cannot face a reality where he isn’t.
“Do you want coffee?” Bram asks me. His features are riddled with nervous energy.
I nod, although there’s nothing I truly want beyond Johnny.
In this same hospital is the man I visited earlier, the one that doesn’t deserve the life left in him. Is this some kind of karmic balance for what I did to Griffin? Is what happened to Johnny somehow my fault because I was foolish enough to think I could poison Griffin and get away with it?
I’m not sure how long I’m lost in my own thoughts when Bram appears in front of me with a paper cup in his hand. “He’s out of surgery.”
I swear I feel my heart stutter in my chest. “What?”
“The doctor caught me on my way back. He’s in recovery. The bullet missed all his major organs. Said Johnny must have had a guardian angel looking out for him. We can go back, but he’s not awake yet. It could take a few hours before he’s alert.”
His words sink in one by one. The world seems to stop spinning. He’s alive. Johnny is alive. By some fucking miracle, Franklin’s plan failed.
Fresh tears roll down my cheeks. I rise to my feet; it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. “Where is he?”
“This way.” Bram leads me through a set of double doors and across a long hall. He pauses in front of a room and motions for me to enter.
I step inside, and all of my fears are quickly erased when my sights land on that beautiful, broken boy lying on the bed. The machines beep, telling me that he’s very much still alive. That the world might not be as cruel as I had thought.
I silently thank the universe for sparing his life.
I’m at his side in an instant, gripping his hand in mine, but careful not to disturb him too much. A strong part of me wants to throw my arms around him and hold him tightly, kissing him all over and basking in the fact that he’s here. I rein myself in, though, and settle for the comforting embrace of our fingers touching.
Bram pushes a chair forward for me. “Here.”
I turn to him and swipe at the tears that won’t seem to stop rolling down my cheeks. “He’s alive.”
Bram pulls me in for a hug.
I bury myself in his chest and put my arms around him.
“Everything is going to be okay,” Bram reassures me.
And despite things being completely fucked up, knowing that Johnny made it through the impossible is enough to give me hope that Bram might be right.
“What do you need me to do? Can I get you guys a change of clothes?”
I wipe at my face and take a deep breath. I’m still covered in Johnny’s blood and the debris from basically laying on the dirty street. I glance over to Johnny, sighing at just how young and vulnerable he appears. Rage tingles up my spine at the people responsible for putting him in this position. I shove it down—I can’t focus on that right now. Not while things are in limbo.
Johnny may have escaped death tonight, but that doesn’t mean he’s in the clear just yet.
“Yeah, clothes would be good. I have an overnight bag already packed at Johnny’s place. It’s sitting on the couch in the living room. You’ll have to grab his stuff, though. The gray sweatpants on the corner of his bed are his favorite. Maybe get his toothbrush, too. I’m sure he’ll want to brush his teeth.” I fumble in my pocket and pull out my keys. I slide the one Johnny had given me off and hand it to Bram. “Oh, my access code, to the building—six two one three.”
Bram nods his head with each one of my requests like he’s taking an order at the diner. “Got it. Anything else?”
“No, that should be it.” I glance over at Johnny and then back to Bram. “Thank you.”
Bram leaves us behind, and I settle into the chair he had pulled up for me. I take Johnny’s hand in mine and bring it to my lips. I press them gently along his skin and close my eyes, grateful for the warmth of life left in him.
I don’t know what I would have done if I lost Johnny. A darkness creeps to the surface at the possibility. A version of me that would have stopped at nothing to make Franklin and his whole organization pay for what they had unfairly taken. It’s still there, just simmering under the surface, partially at ease since Johnny really did make it through such a brutal attack.
I lay my head next to his thigh and hold his palm against my face, savoring the calmness his touch brings me. I imagine his fingers grazing my skin, his thumb doing that thing along my cheek that he always does.