Cruel Infatuation (Underground Kings 3)

“Is this Mr. Campbell speaking?”

“This is he,” I state, wanting to really say, ‘who else would it be?’

“This is Doctor Gladstone. I need you to get here as soon as possible please. We have a few things to discuss.”

My heart drops, and I push my plate toward Finley, telling her silently she can have the rest. “This can’t be discussed over the phone, I take it?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m not permitted to.”

Yeah, bad news is only ever talked about in person.

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. I planned to come soon, anyway. I don’t like being away from Dillon.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

A dial tone greets me, and on my next exhale, I hang up the phone and stare at the screen. A minute and ten seconds. That’s how long it takes for him to ruin my good fucking mood. Well, it wasn’t a good mood, but it was better than the one I was in yesterday. I stupidly felt hope.

“We need to get going. That was the doctor. He needs to talk to me about Dillon. It isn’t good news.”

“He can’t say what it is?” Heaven asks.

“Bad news can’t be delivered over the phone,” I spew with venom on my tongue. “Come on. I don’t want to wait a second longer. I’ve waited too long. Here I am, eating fucking pancakes. God, I’m a shit fucking father.” I push my plate into the sink so hard it shatters. “I’ll never be what he deserves. I shouldn’t have ever fucking left the hospital. I should have stayed there.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. Did he say Dillon was awake?”

“No, but—”

“Then stop, Grayson. You need to take care of yourself too. This journey is just now starting. You need rest. You need a meal that’s outside of a damn vending machine. You have to take care of yourself. He needs you at your best. Sleeping in a chair, eating a damn pop-tart isn’t doing that.” Jaxon flicks the oven off and tosses the spatula in the sink with the broken plate. “I’ll have Julia take care of that. Let’s get everyone rounded up. We leave in five.”

It’s twenty minutes later, on the dot, when we arrive at the hospital, and I’m glad I didn’t eat my breakfast now that I’m here. I feel like I’m about to walk the green mile. I look to my left and see Finley, and to my right is Owen, Jaxon, and Sebastian. Heaven is behind us, dragging his limp leg, and the girls are next to Finley.

I hardly notice my legs moving quicker, but then I’m jogging to the front desk and when I get there, I’m alone. I turn around and see everyone waiting a few feet away, but Finley is still coming toward me. I reach out my hand for her, and she lays her palm in mine, and I tug her to my side.

“How can I help you?” the nurse asks.

“I’m here to see Doctor Gladstone. He called me about my son, Dillon Campbell? Do you know what he wants to talk to me about? Do you have news?”

The nurse smiles through my rapid questions and must feel the anxiety wafting off me. “I’ll call him. Just wait here. He’ll be just a few moments.” She picks up the phone and dials for Doctor Gladstone.

I take a step back, and my fingers pull against my hair. “I’m here twenty minutes later like he wants, and he can’t be here waiting for me? Now, I have to continue to wait for him? What the hell?” I vent to Finley and start to pace. “It’s bad, Finley. I feel it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I feel it. He’s going to tell me it’s too late or something. Dillon is going to die. There’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“You need to stop.” Finley blinks her big green eyes at me, her lashes long and black from mascara. It’s all she’s wearing, but it makes her eyes pop. Her hands cup either side of my neck, and her thumbs rub across my jugular veins. It’s calming. “You have to stop panicking. I know you’re new at this, but you have to get it together, okay? Dillon needs you. You will feel better if you take control of your panic. I’m with you. Your friends are with you. You aren’t alone, okay? I love you.” She ends her speech with the three words I need to hear the most. They bring me strength, a strength that’s different than what has got me through the last eight years.

Over the last eight years, I haven’t had strength at all. I haven’t had anything to fight for, to live for; I think I was a bit careless. I reach for my side where that scrap metal pierced my body. I remember wanting to die, wishing it would have pierced my heart instead. Living gets fucking hard when you’re going at it alone.

I graze the faded yellow bruise along her jaw and realize everything I’ve been needing to live for, the long wait, the agonizing pain of betrayal, it all led to here.

Her.

Dillon.

My reasons for holding on a bit longer because I was ready to call it quits.

“I love you too. Thank you.” I kiss her forehead, and the swing of the double doors in the background have me turning around. Doctor Gladstone is flipping through a medical chart, something he always has in his hand, and I’ll bet anything it’s Dillon’s chart.