“Monk is in Columbia now with Doc, and they’re arranging to bring Onyx, Tackle, and Halo back to the States.”
“Is it safe for Onyx to travel?” Razor had told her that he was in a coma and in the ICU at the hospital in Columbia.
“We have a team of doctors and nurses flying back with us. It’s his only chance, Saylor. We can’t leave him there.”
“How is Monk?”
“The last time you asked me that, I told you he was wrecked.”
“And now?”
“It’s a hundred times worse.”
“What can I do, Raze?”
“When I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”
“When you talk to him, tell him…”
“I’ll tell him the truth.”
Saylor’s eyes met her brother’s.
“If there was ever a time he needed to know that you love him, it’s now, Sis. And don’t even try to tell me you don’t.”
“We haven’t said those words to each other.”
“Like I said.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
“You understand you can’t tell anyone else what I’ve told you. Not even Mom.”
“I do, and I want you to know how much I appreciate you trusting me.”
“Like I said, you’re in love with Monk. You deserve to know what’s going on in his life.” Razor winked and stood. “Oh, we thought it might be a good idea to spend Christmas in Annapolis again this year. That way, we won’t be far from DC.”
Saylor cocked her head.
“We’re taking the boys to George Washington University Hospital.”
Christmas was still a couple of weeks off. Hopefully she’d be able to talk to Monk between now and then to confirm that’s where he’d be. If Razor was going to tell the man she loved him, she wanted to see him in person to affirm it herself.
—:—
Monk hadn’t left the ICU since they arrived at the hospital. After seeing Razor right after he’d gotten out of a coma, it was hard to imagine that Onyx ever would. The man’s extremities were all in casts, and he had tubes in his nose and mouth. Very little of his face even showed between those and the bandages covering his head. It had taken a few tries, but eventually, he understood what the nurse was trying to get across to him in broken English.
“Him. Talk,” she said again and again.
Monk wondered how the hell Onyx was supposed to be able to talk with all the fucking tubes in his mouth. Finally he realized she was telling him to talk. What she didn’t understand was that was equally impossible.
He couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so he just sat there until the nurse told him to take a break. When he went out into the waiting room, Doc was sitting alone, looking at a magazine.
“That in English?” Monk asked.
Doc shook his head. “I’m looking at the pictures.” He turned the magazine around so Monk could see the scantily clad Latino woman on the page. It reminded him of the time he and Onyx were in Brazil and two women who looked like they were decked out in Vegas showgirl attire, approached them on the street. They wanted five hundred reals, or about one hundred US dollars to allow Onyx and Monk to take a photo with them. Granted, neither man had asked. Monk shook his head and laughed.
“What?” asked Doc.