Chapter 159 Tommy's surgery
Ryder's POV
The paramedics got Tommy breathing again, but barely. He had put a tube into his mouth and connected a bag to it that was pushing air into Tommy's lungs.
I watched his chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven movements while the paramedic worked over him. As soon as Tommy's oxygen levels started coming up, he had pushed me back against the ambulance wall to give him room, and all I could do was sit there useless while he fought to keep my brother alive.
By the time we reached the hospital, Tommy's oxygen level had stabilized enough that the paramedic stopped looking quite so panicked. But his face was still gray and his eyes stayed closed no matter how many times they called his name.
They rushed him straight into surgery. I tried to follow but a nurse stopped me at the doors.
"You need to wait here," she said firmly. "The surgical team will update you as soon as they can."
Then Tommy disappeared through those doors and I was left standing in an empty hallway that smelled like bleach and fear.
A different nurse guided me to a surgical waiting room and told me to sit down. I tried, but my legs would not stop moving. I paced from one end of the small room to the other, my hands still shaking from performing the CPR in the ambulance while the paramedic tried to intubate.
I had never done CPR on a real person before. Only on the dummy in the first response class I took a few months ago.
That was watching my only family die in front of me.
The waiting room had a clock on the wall that ticked too loudly. I watched the minutes crawl by. Twenty minutes. Forty. An hour.
I thought about calling someone. Sage. Diesel. Anyone.
But my phone was dead and I could not make myself ask to borrow one.
An hour and a half after they took Tommy into surgery, a surgeon finally emerged. He was older, maybe in his fifties, with tired eyes.
"Mr. Kane?" he asked.
I nodded, unable to form words.
"Your brother is out of surgery. The bullet missed his heart by centimeters. He was very lucky." The surgeon's voice was calm and professional. "We had to repair some damage to his lung and he lost a significant amount of blood, but he's stable now."
The relief nearly dropped me to my knees. I grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself.
"He's going to live?" I asked, needing to hear it again.
"Yes. He'll have a long recovery ahead of him, but he's going to live."
I could not speak. I could not do anything except nod while my vision blurred with tears I refused to let fall.
"You can see him in recovery," the surgeon continued. "Follow me."
He led me through a maze of hallways to a recovery room where Tommy lay in a hospital bed, unconscious and a bit pale and breathing through a tube in his mouth. Machines beeped steadily beside him, monitoring his heart rate and oxygen levels and all manner of other things I couldn't possibly know because I was not a doctor.
I sat down in the chair beside his bed and watched his chest rise and fall. Every breath felt like a miracle.
A nurse came in to check his vitals and adjust his IV. "Hopefully he should wake up in the next few hours," she said. "The anesthesia just needs time to wear off."
I nodded, not taking my eyes off Tommy's face.
The nurse left and I was alone with my brother. Hours passed. I watched him breathe. Counted each rise and fall of his chest. Terrified that if I looked away for even a second, it might stop again.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I should check on Sage and Jaxon. I knew I should call someone and let them know Tommy was okay. I knew there were a hundred things I needed to do.
But my legs would not move. The fear had paralyzed me.
Tommy was my only family. The only person who had been there my entire life. We had grown up together with our abusive father, protected each other from things no kids should have to face and joined the Steel Wolves together when Vincent took me in. He was my brother by blood and otherwise.
And I had almost lost him tonight.
The thought of leaving his side, of not being there if something went wrong, made my chest tight with panic.
I tried to stand. I made it halfway out of the chair before the fear gripped me and I sat back down.
Tomorrow, I told myself. I would check on Sage and Jaxon tomorrow. Once I was sure Tommy was stable. Once the terror had loosened its grip enough that I could breathe without feeling like I was drowning.
A nurse passed by in the hallway and I heard her talking to someone.
"The Romano patient is still in surgery," she said. "It doesn't look good. They're doing everything they can but the damage was extensive."
My stomach dropped. Jaxon was still in surgery. Which meant Sage was still out there waiting, probably terrified out of her mind.
Guilt twisted in my gut like a knife.
I should go to her. Should be there with her. I should at least call and tell her Tommy was okay and ask about Jaxon. Would she even know where her phone was at this time?
But when I tried to stand again, my legs would not cooperate. The fear was too strong. The terror of losing Tommy had locked me in place and I could not break free.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, though I did not know if I was talking to Tommy or to Sage.
More hours passed. Tommy's breathing stayed steady. The monitors kept beeping their regular rhythm. Slowly, very slowly, I started to believe he might actually be okay.
A different nurse came in, checking the machines and making notes on a clipboard.
"Has anyone else come to ask for him?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No visitors yet. Besides, it's the middle of the night. Are you expecting someone?"
"No," I said quietly. "Just wondering."
She left and I went back to watching Tommy breathe.
I should get up. Should go find Sage. Should stop being a coward.
But every time I tried, the fear grabbed hold of me again and pulled me back down into the chair.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, I forced myself to stand. My legs shook but they held. I walked to the door, gripping the frame to steady myself.
I could do this. I could walk down the hallway, find the surgical wing where Jaxon was, and check on Sage. It was not that hard. Just one foot in front of the other.
I stepped out into the hallway and headed toward the signs pointing to surgery.
The hallway seemed longer than it should be. My footsteps echoed too loudly on the floor. I passed nurses and doctors, all too busy to notice one more person wandering the hospital.
I turned the corner toward the surgical waiting rooms.
And stopped dead in my tracks.
Sage was there, standing near a wall, her back to me. Diego had his arm around her shoulders, and she was leaning into him like he was the only thing keeping her upright.