“Ith Mat here?” he asked, his eyes moving between Patrick and me.
“Yeah, he’s here. He’s probably pissed because I made him wait so Patrick could come back.”
“He’ll get ovah it.” He waved his hand a little in a ‘brush it off’ gesture that reminded me of Peg. “I’m tiad, can you thend him back before ah path out?”
“Sure, son.” I leaned forward to kiss him, but I couldn’t find a single place on his face that wasn’t battered.
“Lipth,” he muttered, pursing his lips.
I gave him a quick peck, then leaned back. “It’s like three in the morning, so I’m going to get a hotel unless you want me to stay?”
“Nah.”
“That’s what I figured. I’ll be back after I get a couple hours of sleep, okay?”
“Love ooh, Mumma.”
“I love you too, baby.”
I left the room before I started crying again. He didn’t need me losing my shit while he laid there in pain, unable to do anything about it. He was so protective of me, probably because it had just been me and him against the world for most of his life —so I knew that he was lying in there worried about me, even though he had to be in excruciating amounts of pain.
Patrick didn’t follow me straight out, but by the time I’d reached the double doors to the waiting room, he’d caught up to me.
“Mat, yer up,” he called out as we reached the group of men standing in the corridor. “Ye stayin’ here de rest of de night?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in his room if they don’t kick me out.”
“Okay, let me or his mum know if ye’ve gotta leave, yeah?”
“Sure.” Mat didn’t wait another second before he was striding quickly down the hallway and out of our sight.
“He say anything?” Grease asked, the veins in his neck becoming more pronounced as I watched. The guy was built like a brick shithouse.
“Got a description on two of ‘em,” Patrick answered, his jaw tightly clenched. “Said he’s seen ‘em around de pub he goes to. Saturday night, should be easy to find ‘em. Nix got one of ‘em good in de face, bet dey all have fucked up knuckles.”
“Cops been in yet?” Dragon asked, and I got a good look at him now that I was a bit calmer.
That’s when I realized who he was—Brenna’s man. That’s why I’d remembered his name. Dang, their daughter was the spitting image of him.
“Haven’t been in yet—don’t matter though—Nix don’t remember what happened.”
I looked at him sharply, and he shook his head once.
“Amy and I are gonna get a hotel, ye boys should do de same.”
“Need to talk, brother,” Dragon said ominously. Damn, if these boys weren’t young enough to be my sons, they’d be scary as hell.
“It’ll wait,” Patrick dismissed him with a glare. “I’ll call ye lads in a few hours.”
His hand rested at the small of my back as he ushered me to the elevator, and I didn’t resist. I just didn’t have it in me.
Once I knew that Phoenix would be okay, my body had started to ache with exhaustion, and my head was pounding from all the tears I’d shed. Now that the nightmares that had plagued me since Nix was a child had been realized, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I was so angry, so unbelievably angry. I wanted to find those men and claw their eyes out. I wanted to parade them through the streets, yelling out their crime for everyone to hear. I wanted them to hurt for their cowardice.
I wanted them to feel the same shame that Nix was feeling for not being able to protect himself.
Those motherfuckers.
“Ye know a hotel around here?” Patrick asked as we stepped outside the front doors.
“Yeah.” My voice was hollow and I could feel the numbness sinking in.
“Hey,” he called, getting my attention. “I’ll grab me bike and follow ye dere. Where ye parked?”
***
He was being a bit presumptuous twenty minutes later when he rented only one room, but I didn’t say a word. I knew it was a bad idea—Patrick and I in one place with a bed involved was always a bad idea—but I didn’t like the idea of being alone, either.
He was the only support system I had, as pathetic as that sounded. I’d never been good at making friends, and most of the people I came into contact with on a daily basis were acquaintances at best. Making connections had never been something I’d learned to do, and after I’d been attacked all those years before, I’d lost the will to even try. I liked my own company. I didn’t need anyone else.
I suppose, though, that wasn’t altogether true. Because at one point, I’d needed two people more than I’d ever thought possible. One of them was leading me down a corridor at that very moment, looking for our hotel room.
“Only brought one change of clothes in my saddle bags, but if ye want the t-shirt I got, it’s yers,” he mumbled, pushing open the door to the room.
“I’m good in this,” I told him, walking ahead of him and straight into the bathroom.
I needed to wash my face and I’d had to pee for what felt like hours. I stayed in there longer than I needed to, but eventually, I pulled off my shoes and socks and walked back into the bedroom, carrying them in my arms.
Patrick was doing something on his phone when I came out, but looked up when I sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the shoes.
“Ot’er side, love,” he said, making me look up in surprise.
“Huh?”
“I sleep by de door.”
I nodded absently and stood back up, remembering the first night he’d rolled over to face the door instead of sleeping wrapped around me. I told myself that I didn’t care how he slept anymore, but a small part of me twinged at the thought that he still did that.
He came toward me as I sat back down, and my eyes burned as I looked up to meet his. God, they hurt. I was so fucking worn out.
“Better lie down before ye fall down,” he said quietly, reaching behind me to pull the blankets down the bed. “Climb in.”
He took my shoes and socks out of my hand and unwrapped my purse from over my shoulder as soon as I laid down, then pulled the blankets back up to my chin, tucking them around my sides.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking a step back. “Forgot where I was for a moment.”
I closed my eyes and passed out as I felt him lie down on the other side of the bed. Knowing he was there meant that I slept deeper than I had in the many years he’d been gone.
I instinctively knew that nothing could hurt me when Patrick was there.
It was when he left that bad things happened.
***
We spent the next day at the hospital, becoming familiar with Nix’s room and the cafeteria. There was something I loved about the food there. It reminded me of school lunches when I was a kid—grilled cheese sandwiches and hamburgers that tasted satisfyingly like rubber. The coffee sucked, though, and by that evening, I was dragging ass again. I was too old to function on four hours of sleep.
“Gonna head out for a bit,” Patrick told Nix, watching him closely. “Boys wanna see ye before we go.”
I wasn’t sure what passed between them in that look, but minutes later, Grease, Dragon and Casper were filing into the room, their large bodies crowding it a little too much for me to be comfortable.
“Jesus, Nix, they got you good,” Casper said in surprise.
Nix flinched, but nodded silently.
“Hell, that’s nothin’. Shoulda seen Dragon when Poet got through with him,” Grease chimed in, leaning forward to shake Nix’s uncasted hand. “Good to see you, man.”
“Yeah, you too.” The swelling in Nix’s mouth had gone down a bit, his words more clear than they’d been the night before.
“I was pissin’ blood for weeks,” Dragon grumbled, nodding at Nix. “Have fun with that.”
I watched my son’s body go from completely rigid to relaxed within moments, and I could have kissed those three boys.
 
; “Stop fuckin’ complainin’, ye wean.” Patrick grumbled.
“I only understood about fifty-four percent of what you just said,” Casper commented to Patrick in bewilderment. “Did anyone understand that shit?”
Nix started to laugh and then winced. “His accent always gets thick like that when he’s around my mum. Never fails.”
“Yeah, but do you have any clue what he’s sayin’—”
“Met your man last night,” Grease interrupted Casper and I braced myself. I’d seen the way they’d been staring at Mat. “I can see the draw—dude’s almost as pretty as a chick.”
Nix laughed then groaned, but the smile stayed on his face. “Mum calls him Ken.”
“Yeah, he does kinda look like one of the Barbies Trix has lyin’ around,” Dragon commented, making all the men laugh.
“I’m mostly jealous that he’s prettier than me,” I joked, winking at Nix.
“Not possible,” Patrick argued with a small smile. “Ye good here?”
“Yeah, we’ll be fine. Mat should be back in a while with Nix’s stuff.”
“We’ll see ye soon, yeah?” Patrick said, turning to Nix and kissing him on the forehead.
Dragon and Casper’s mouths dropped open in surprise, but Grease just smirked.
“Let’s go, boys,” Patrick called as he walked away without waiting for them to follow.
“You didn’t say your mom was hot,” Casper complained to Nix as they reached the doorway, which had Grease shoving him into the wall so hard I knew he’d have bruises.
“Keep pushin’ and Poet’s gonna have your balls,” I heard him mumble.
Nix and I were quiet for a few minutes, and the lack of noise was kind of nice. We hadn’t had much time to just be over the past almost twenty-four hours, and it was comforting to be in the same room with my boy and not have to fill the silence with chatter.
We understood each other better than anyone else, and I wasn’t sure if that was normal, considering my son would be thirty soon… but I didn’t really care, either. For so long, we’d only had each other. We were a family of two, and luckily for me, I didn’t seem to annoy him too badly. I knew that he had his own life outside of me—Mat was a big part of that—and he knew that I needed space. We worked in a way that only two people who knew each other inside and out could. My kid was a genuinely cool guy and even though he was grown, I still loved hanging out with him.
“I’m sorry, Mum,” he said after a while.
“For what?” I pulled the scarf I was knitting out of my purse and tried to get my hands situated on the needles. It didn’t matter how many years had passed since Peg had taught me to knit, I still couldn’t do anything more intricate than a long piece of fabric.
“For all this.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m not. I know this sucks for you. You hate hospitals.”
“Everyone hates hospitals.”
“You hate them more than most people.”
“That can’t really be determined, can it? I mean, who are these ‘most’ people. How many is a ‘most’? I mean, some people only go to hospitals when babies are born, so they don’t really count—”
“Christ on a cracker, Mum! Could you shut up?”
“If I have to.”
“You have to.”
“Fine.”
We were silent again while I stewed, but I knew at any moment he would once again bring it up. He’d never been able to stay quiet unless it was on his own terms. We could eat an entire dinner with no words spoken, but if he wanted to say something and I asked him to be quiet? He could not hold that shit in.
“I’m just sorry I scared you, and that you’ve had to be here with me all day.”
I continued to knit quietly.
“You can talk.”
“Oh, can I?”
“Stop being an ass.”
“First, let’s get one thing straight,” I said, dropping my knitting to my lap and turning to face him. “You can’t control what other people do, therefore you couldn’t control whether or not you’d be in the hospital at this particular juncture.”
“You’ve been reading again. I can tell by the words you’re using.”
“Second,” I raised my voice above his, “I would rather be with you—even in this smelly ass hospital—than anywhere else on earth.”
“Fair enough.”
“I’m always fair… and right.”
“I’m going to sleep, okay?”
“Having your buds come to visit tired you out, huh?”
“They’re cool, right?” he asked, closing his eyes. I felt bad for him, because I knew he’d never be comfortable on his back. My kid was a stomach sleeper, always had been.
“Yeah, and good looking.”
“Shut up.”
“Did you see Casper’s eyes? Good Lord.”
“Mum.”
“And Dragon, with that long hair? Jesus. I think I need to read a historical romance novel soon… I know who the mighty brave will be.”
“I’m going to vomit.”
“Don’t even get me started on Grease.”
“I’ve been trying to stop you for five minutes.”
“Muscles,” I sang.
“You’re insane.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too… most of the time.”
I smiled to myself as I picked up my knitting again, listening to my son breathe. The noise on the monitors was extra, the heart monitor more of a nuisance than anything, but when I heard him breathing just a few feet away, it made me feel like all was right in the world again.
“His eyes are incredible,” he murmured sleepily before nodding off.
***
Patrick and the boys never made it back to the hospital that night. I finally left Nix’s room at almost midnight and drove straight to the hotel room that Patrick had booked for another night. I’d grabbed some clothes from my apartment during the day while Nix had been resting, and I was so glad I had. Even though I’d planned to sleep in my own bed that night, I couldn’t make myself go that far from the hospital.
Nix was going to be fine. I knew that intellectually. However, emotionally I was still scared out of my mind. I’d almost lost him. If someone hadn’t seen him lying in that parking lot, he could have bled to death.
I had to try and balance my need to be up his ass all the time and the need to get some actual sleep in a bed.
The hotel seemed like a solid middle ground until I walked into the room as Patrick was walking out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel slung around his waist.
“You’re back,” I announced stupidly, letting the door swing shut behind me.
“Didn’t take long, yeah? How’s Nix?”
“He’s good. Mat was staying with him again tonight, so I was going to try and catch some sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s getting sick of me by now, anyway.”
“I doubt dat,” he said, shaking his head as he stepped into a pair of boxer briefs and pulled them up under his towel.
“How—” I cleared my throat as he pulled the towel away, trying to get a hold of myself. “Mums seem to annoy grown sons regularly. There are about a thousand sitcoms based on that very premise.”
“Not yer son,” he argued, drying his beard and hair with the towel. “Yer son t’inks yer de shite.”
“That’s because I am.”
“Ye just made me point.”
“You wear boxer briefs now? When did that happen?” What the fuck was I saying? I didn’t care about his underwear. I didn’t care about it at all.
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“Forget I said that.”
“Ye like me underwear?”
“No, you look like you’re trying too hard.”
“Because I’m wearin’ boxer briefs?” He was looking at me like I’d lost my mind, and I was pretty sure I had.
“You’re too old for boxer briefs.”
“Yer too old for dose fuckin?
?? booty shorts I know ye have under dat skirt, cause I saw de outline of dem at de hospital earlier.”
“Did you just say booty shorts?”
“Ye’d call dem somet’in’ different?”
“Um, underwear that comes in a pack of ten. That’s what I’d call them.”
“Don’t care where dey came from, I’d still like to see yer arse cheeks hangin’ out de bottom of ‘em.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I had no idea what to say to that. We were venturing into dead man’s land, and I’d fucking led us there.
“Ye plannin’ on standin’ next to de door all night?”
“What?” I looked around me, then shook my head. “Uh, no.”
I’d carried my bag with me from my car, and I dropped it near the dresser so I could rummage through it for some pajamas. I wasn’t going to wake up again with my freaking skirt hiked up to my waist and lines from the chest band of my bra permanently imbedded in my skin.
Without another word, I scooped up my things and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind me. I needed a shower—a cold one—and a couple of minutes to get myself together.
“Ye couldn’t have grabbed an old t-shirt or somet’in’?” Patrick grumbled as I stepped out of the steamy bathroom a half hour later.
“I’m wearing shorts underneath, ya dirty old man.”
“I can be much dirtier, love,” he said hoarsely, sitting up from the bed. “Just say de word.”
I’d dated a few men in the last couple of years, nice guys, but not one of them had caused such a primitive reaction in my body. It was as if the closer he got to me as he crossed the room, the more my body heated and softened. My fight or flight response never kicked in, and I blame the stress I was under for the way I immediately began to justify my need to run my palms over all of the smooth skin that was just feet away from me.
Maybe if he’d gotten dressed in a nice pair of pajamas instead of prowling around the room in nothing but those boxer briefs…
“I’ve never wanted anyt’in’ as much as I want ye,” he said reverently, reaching out to run his finger over the strap of my nightgown laying against my shoulder.