“What about Mark?” she asked, lifting her head. “Where’s Mark?”
“Eastwood?” Casper asked in surprise, his voice carrying.
Both Grease and Dragon turned to look.
“Cam said he was there. Where is he?”
“What’s it to you?”
“He’s my friend. He—”
“Probably not a good time,” I cut in, with a shake of my head.
“He’s around here somewhere,” Dragon said, watching CeeCee. “Patchin’ him up. His mom’s on her way.”
“He’s okay?” Cecilia asked, her mouth trembling as she reached up to cover it with both hands. “Oh, God,” she whispered in relief.
“Your sister is in there fuckin’ blind, your aunt and cousin are in surgery to take bullets outta ’em, and you’re askin’ about some fuckin’ kid?” I snapped, finally at the end of my patience. What the fuck was her deal?
“Cam,” Casper scolded.
“Ma’s with Lily,” Cecilia hissed.
“So that means you just don’t give a shit? Your grandmother is dead, Cecilia. Slider and Vera and Micky are fucking dead.”
“Cameron!” Casper said sharply, cutting me off.
“I’m done,” I said in frustration, raising my hands as I took a step backward.
“We’re all worried, kid,” Dragon said, pulling my attention to him and Trix. “Ain’t nothin’ to do but worry. Cut your sister some slack.”
* * *
A few hours later, Will was out of surgery, but Callie was still back in the bowels of the hospital, where they tried to fix the gaping hole in her chest.
We were all on edge.
Lily still couldn’t see and they had no idea why. They thought she must have hit her head somehow, even though she seemed fine from the outside. It was taking a long ass time for them to do brain scans and whatever other shit they had to do, so we just waited.
Rose had fallen asleep at some point and was spread out on a couch in the surgical waiting room where we’d ended up. Lily and Ma were in another part of the hospital, so Casper, Cecilia and I were splitting our time between the different floors, pacing and drinking coffee.
Lily got really agitated if there were too many of us in the room, so we’d decided to let Ma stay with her. Dad went in a couple of times an hour, just to give her a kiss and remind her he was there, but she was so fucking out of it that I wasn’t sure how much she’d remember.
I was going nuts. Seriously losing my shit.
I wasn’t real patient on a good day, but that night, I was like a bomb waiting to detonate. So much fucking waiting. Waiting on Callie. Waiting on Lily. Waiting to find out if Leo was going to be able to move the left side of his face. Waiting for Poet to wake up so we could have a meeting and figure out what the fuck we were going to do.
Trix wasn’t talking to me. She wasn’t talking to anyone.
I knew that she and I had a lot of shit to deal with, but fuck if any of that mattered anymore. I just wanted her with me. I wanted to smell her and feel her skin and hear her voice. I needed her—but she wasn’t moving more than a foot away from her pop. Hell, he’d gone to the bathroom and she’d waited outside the door for him. Every time I tried to sit with her or talk to her, she gave me the bare minimum of her attention, instead watching Dragon move around the room like she was afraid to let him out of her sight.
She didn’t need me. She was making that perfectly clear.
I’d just sat down on the floor in a corner of the waiting room when a doctor came out of the back hallway, pulling off his surgical cap. “Family of Callie Hawthorne?” he asked.
Shit, I’d forgotten that she’d married Grease. I had no idea why they hadn’t had a wedding, but they’d obviously made it legal if her last name was Hawthorne.
Grease strode to the doctor and they spoke quietly for a few moments before the doctor turned and walked away.
“She’s good,” Grease announced hoarsely, meeting Tommy’s eyes across the room. “Puttin’ her in the recovery room now. We can see her in a coupla hours.”
Casper’s ass hit the floor next to me at Grease’s words. He fell so hard it was as if his legs could no longer hold him upright.
“Thank fuck,” he said on a shudder, drawing his knees up and bracing his elbows on them, his head bowed low.
I reached over and set my hand on his back as he sniffed hard, keeping his head low.
“She’ll be alright, Dad,” I said softly.
“My sister,” he whispered. That was all he said, but there really wasn’t anything else to say. He’d been hit hard that day, no doubt about it.
We’d lost four people. Four people, and all of them were related to Casper by marriage or blood. Father-in-law, mother-in-law, grandmother and nephew.