Cruel Infatuation (Underground Kings 3)

“I do,” Grayson s

ays simply, staring through the small window in the door. “It’s everything.” He turns the knob and enters the room.

The first thing I notice is how cold the room is. It’s dark for the most part, but there is one light shining down onto the hospital bed where Dillon lays. Since he is so small, he doesn’t even take up half the bed. The sheets are snug around his body, and Grayson pulls a chair up next to the bed, tucking the blankets in tighter.

Grayson bends over and kisses Dillon’s cheek and whispers something in his ear. A hiss of a machine hooked to a tube that goes down Dillon’s throat has tears brimming my eyes. The doctor wasn’t lying—this is rough. I can’t stand seeing a child like this.

“Why does he have a tube?” Grayson asks.

“Protocol. We want to make sure he is getting enough oxygen, that’s all. The less work his body does right now, the better. He needs to reserve his strength.”

“Because of the cancer,” Grayson says what the doctor is hovering around.

“Yes. It makes his situation delicate.”

“And his head? He’s okay?” Grayson runs his hands through his hair and has a look of disbelief on his face.

“I relieved the pressure from his brain. He had slight swelling, but nothing too major. We should know more when he wakes up. Give him time to wake up. Don’t get impatient. Brain surgery is different for everyone.”

“Right,” Grayson says in a tone that’s flat and worried. “Thank you, Doctor Thomas.”

Doctor Thomas walks to the door and pauses. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Like I said, I have everything I need,” Grayson says, reaching for my hand that’s on his shoulder at the same time he holds Dillon’s. “I just don’t want it taken from me. Not yet. Oh, not yet.” Grayson places his head on the bed and wraps an arm around Dillon’s waist. “I’m here, buddy. Okay? I’m here. You aren’t alone. You’ll never be alone again.”

Loneliness can almost feel as deadly as cancer, slowly sucking the life out of you until there is nothing left.

But loneliness can be reversed, and more times than not, cancer can’t be.

I hope Dillon beats the odds. I think Grayson’s mental state depends on it or he will engulf himself in loneliness again.

And not even I will be able to pull him out of it.

Chapter Seventeen

GRAYSON

“Mr. and Mrs. Campbell?” a man in the doorway wearing a long white coat and big Coke bottle glasses gets my attention. I scrub my face to wake myself up and stand, giving Dillon a parting glance, and kiss Finley’s forehead. She slowly wakes up and blinks sleepily at me.

“Hey, doctor is here,” I croon, rubbing her cheek with my thumb.

Her eyes drift toward the door, and she nods, lifting herself from the chair.

I yawn. “Sorry, excuse me. It’s been a long night.” I hold out my hand to greet him. “I’m Grayson Campbell. This is my wife, Finley.”

“I’m Doctor. Henry Gladstone. I’m your son’s Oncologist from Portland.”

“I remember,” I say. I only saw him once before. He’s a busy man, which is terrible because that means a lot of people have cancer.

“I looked over your son’s chart, and it looks like the treatment isn’t working like we had hoped. He didn’t slip in the shower; he lost consciousness.”

Finley grabs ahold of my hand as I stare at the doctor and shake my head. “That’s … no. You said the treatment was going to work. You said he was going to be fine. You said … no. Run the test again.”

Doctor Gladstone’s eyes soften in sympathy, a look he has mastered having to do it a hundred times. “I’m sorry, Mr. Campbell. Your son needs a bone marrow transplant. We are searching the donor list now, but it would be better if the transplant came from a family member.”

“Test me. Take fucking all of my marrow. I don’t care.” I close my eyes and breathe, but the emotion in my chest is building and building, heavy like concrete blocks. “Just test me.”

“Me too,” Finley says.