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“I’m ready,” I said to the nurse.
Exiting the waiting room, I was anxious to see him. She tried to prepare me for what I’d see.
“Mr. Griffin has lots of cuts and bruises on his face and torso. That’s to be expected.”
All I could do was nod and follow along as we got in the elevator and rode to the ninth floor. I didn’t tell her Dr. Ryan had already told me. I just let her do her job.
It seemed like we stopped on every floor in between, and my anxiety was off the charts.
Didn’t they fucking understand I needed to get to him? I wanted to ask a million more questions, but I’d wait to ask Simon.
When the elevator stopped on the ninth floor, I followed her as she led me to the right toward the dedicated Neurology ICU.
When we got to the door, the nurse scanned her ID to unlock the doors. “We’re going to take good care of Mr. Griffin. Don’t you worry.”
Like the bobblehead I felt like, I nodded and followed her inside. She led me to a sink where I could wash my hands before entering Patrick’s room. Simon came to meet me and put his hand on my shoulder.
“How is he?”
“Good for someone who wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.” I couldn’t miss the fatherly tone in his voice. The one that said we’re gonna have a talk when this is over.
My eyes became red-rimmed saucers at that information and filled with tears. “What the fuck?”
Simon heaved out a deep breath. “Yeah, he’s lucky to be alive. And I’m sorry. Parker is taking Driver’s Ed and I worry.” He ran his hand through his salt and pepper hair.
And I understood immediately.
“You’re a good dad, Simon. You and Jackson both.”
He raised his brows as if he questioned what I’d just said, then motioned toward the bay where the nurses were coming in and out. “We’ll see what Park thinks when I get behind the wheel with him.”
“They’re going to let me stay, right?”
He chuckled. “Yes. We had to go to the top, but Jesse got that approved for you.”
My brows drew together. “Jesse?”
“His father-in-law is the hospital administrator.” He stopped before he pulled back the curtain. “He looks rough.”
I nodded, then followed Simon beyond the curtain.
My eyes filled with tears at seeing Patrick lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to all the monitors and a breathing tube down his throat. I looked at Simon, who put his hand on my shoulder. “That’s normal. It’s a precaution, since he’s unconscious.”
I looked back at Patrick. His head was wrapped in a compression bandage and his eyes were purple and bruised. His face was puffier than it was when I last saw him almost seven hours ago, and the cuts and abrasions were there, just like Dr. Ryan had warned me.
“The leads coming from the bandages are attached to a sensor to measure the swelling. It’s called ICP, or intercranial pressure.”
As I looked him over, I was amazed that he’d survived.
“Can I touch him?”
“Yeah, you can hold his hand and talk to him. He’ll know you’re here, Cole. I’m sure you’ll give him a reason to fight his way back.”
I took in a shuddered breath and went to his side. I pulled the chair up to the bed and took his hand. Patrick didn’t make any movement, and I fought back the tears. Simon closed the distance and put his hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay, Cole. This isn’t your fault.”
I let out an undignified sound as I let the emotions out. There’s no way he could know that. “It is, though, Simon. I pushed him away before he left. I just didn’t want to rehash the excuses again until we could sit down properly and talk. I was exhausted and only thinking about myself. I’m so fucking selfish, and look what happened because of it.”
