Chapter Thirteen
It’s been twenty-four hours since Gunner had surgery; he has yet to wake up. The nurse comes in every couple of hours throughout the night to check his vitals, letting us know that they are strong and that he is doing well. The doctor came in this morning to check on him also, explaining that Gunner will wake when he is ready, that his body is in exhaustion from the trauma, surgery, and his mind might be trying to block what we experienced.
Now, as early evening comes, we continue to hold his hands and talk to him, even though we are not sure if he can hear us. “Gunner, baby, you gotta open your eyes. Let me see those blues, I need to see those blue eyes of yours,” I beg. His finger twitches against my palm and my heart begins to beat faster. “Josie, he just moved his finger.”
“Are you sure?” She sits up, closer to the bed.
“Come on, baby, do it again.” He does. I laugh with excitement and tears shine in my eyes as I meet the wide eyes of his mom. Nodding my head, I tell her, “He’s waking up!”
Her shimmering eyes match my own as we encourage Gunner to keep coming back to us. It takes several minutes, but finally his eyes flutter open, before slamming shut again. “The light,” he rasps out.
Letting go of his hand, I hurry over and shut off the overhead light, only leaving on the one above his bed, and only because that one is dim. Taking his hand in mine once again, I thread my fingers through his. “The light’s off now.”
Slowly, Gunner opens his eyes. “Where am I?”
“In the hospital.” My brow rises as I ask, “Do you remember what happened?” I reach over to grab the mug the nurse filled with ice water. “Take small sips.” Holding the mug in one hand, I reach behind Gunner’s head, tilting it up a little. After a few drinks, I pull it away and lay his head back onto the pillow.
“I’m going to go get the doctor,” Josie announces as she gets up and leaves the room.
“No.” Gunner’s gaze lands on me, confusion deep in their depths.
“You were shot.” My eyes become misty as I remember Gunner throwing himself on top of me. He risked his life for mine. His eyes screw shut as he tries to remember.
“We were in the storm?” I nod. “I was driving and someone was following us.” He looks up at the ceiling. “I remember the gunfire, wanting to keep you safe, and then it’s blank.”
“Yeah, you lost consciousness.”
“Mr. Williams. It’s good to see you awake.” Doctor Guthrie’s smile shines as he enters the room with Josie. “You’ve had quite the ordeal in the last twenty-four hours. I am going to perform a test to check movement in your feet and legs.”
Gunner nods, but his brows are pulled down tightly in confusion. The doctor lifts the blanket and sheet, moving them up to Gunner’s knees. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a tool that looks like a spiky wheel with a handle. “Can you move your toes for me?”
Gripping Gunner’s hand, I pray for some movement.
“Do you see them moving?” Gunner questions, a little breathless from the simple task.
“Tell me…can you feel this?” Doctor Guthrie asks while moving the tool along the bottom of Gunner’s feet.
“I don’t feel anything.”
“How about this?” The doctor’s eyes cut to Gunner as he moves the tool along his ankle, then calf.
“No.”
“Tell me when you start feeling something.” When he gets to the knee, he uncovers one of Gunner’s legs completely. My heart is breaking all the while he moves up his leg. Gunner’s eyes stay glued to that tool.
Over his thigh—still nothing.
When the doctor gets to Gunner’s hip, finally there is something. “I can feel that. It’s a poking feeling.” He moves to the other foot and it’s the same, no feeling until his hip.
“Very good.” Doctor Guthrie stops and puts the tool back in his pocket.
“What does that mean?” Gunner questions; he doesn’t know yet about how badly he was injured.
“Mr. Williams, you had to be taken into surgery yesterday because of the three gunshot wounds you suffered from. When we were performing the operation we discovered that one of those bullets had hit your spinal cord in the thoracolumbar region.”
“You tellin’ me I got a spinal cord injury?” Gunner’s expression is void, just blank.
“Yes.”
“And now, since I couldn’t feel shit below my hip, you tellin’ me I’m fuckin paralyzed?”
“There is a possibility that you could walk again, but it will be a long process. I’m sorry, Mr. Williams.” Gunner nods with no reply, and he turns his head to look out the window. Josie and I stare at each other; we are at a loss as to what to do for him.
“Thank you,” Josie tells the doctor with a sigh, and he quietly leaves us alone with Gunner.
“Gunner…” I start, but I’m cut off when his head snaps in my direction. Anger radiates off of him in waves.
“Get out.” Taken aback, my mouth hangs open, and tears spring in my eyes.
“Gunner…” I try again.
“I said get out! Both of you, fuckin’ leave! Now!” he yells at us. I’ve never seen him so angry. Feeling my heart drop, we stand and leave the room.
Josie hugs me outside the door while I quietly sob. “He will be okay. That was a lot of bad news for him and we need to give him some time to process it all.”
“It’s my fault,” I choke out.
“No, honey, it wasn’t.”
“Yes it was; if Gunner didn’t have to come looking for me, then none of this would have happened.”
“Listen to me.” Josie takes my cheeks in her hands, making my watery eyes meet hers. “In the life of the club, it will happen no matter when or where. If someone was coming after him, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Now we just have to be here for him and help him get through this; make him understand that it will be okay—but he has a long journey ahead of him. We need to help him see that we will be by his side every step of the way. None of this was your fault.”
Nodding, I try for a smile. “Thank you, Josie.”
“You’re welcome. Now, go get some rest.” She kisses my cheek, we say our goodbyes, and I head back to the compound to let everyone know Gunner is awake.