He turned to ask Brian or Greg to get the nurse, but found his cousins, Brody and Owen, standing there with their wives, Rain and Claire.
“I told you guys not to come.”
“You were there for me and Rain when the mess went down with Roxy. You helped Owen when his wacked-out client went after Claire,” Brody said. “Of course we came to check on you. We’re family.”
Those words hit Dylan hard. His mother had lied and deceived him. She’d hurt Jessie with her words and deeds. She’d made decisions for him that cost him ever knowing his precious daughter. Yet, here were his cousins, taking time out of their lives, away from their kids to come and check on him. He never went more than a few hours without one of them calling to check on him and assure him that Jessie would be okay. They didn’t know her, but they loved him and wanted the best for him. It meant more than words could say to have them here, now, when Jessie’s condition worsened with every passing second.
Rain stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. Tired to the bone, he hugged her back and held on. “She’s going to be okay, Dylan. Hang in there.”
“I’m trying. She’s getting worse.”
“Well, if I’d known there was a party, I’d have gotten dressed,” Jessie murmured from the bed.
Shocked she was awake again—and semi-lucid—he released Rain to go back to Jessie’s side. “Jess, you remember my cousins, Brody and Owen. These are their wives, Rain and Claire.”
“Go home, Dylan. Be with your family. Let me die in peace.”
“Jess, no. You’re not dying. You hear me. I won’t let you, damnit.”
Jessie looked him right in eye. “I tried to find you. I tried to tell you.”
“I know, sweetheart.” He kissed her lips softly. Her eyes fluttered, closing from exhaustion. “Rest.” He ran his hand down the side of her head and held her cheek. “You’re sick. You need to rest.”
“My back hurts.”
“You’ve got an infection where you were stabbed by the glass. You’ve got a fever. They’re giving you some pretty heavy-duty medication. You’re going to be okay.”
“I want to lie on my stomach. My back hurts. My leg hurts.”
“Do you want some more drugs?”
“Let’s leave a few brain cells,” she said sarcastically.
He smiled. “There’s a little bit of my Jess. All right. Let me help you though. You can’t move like you think. You’re weak. I don’t want you messing up the bandages or your stitches.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” she quipped, then tried to sit up and couldn’t. Surprise and worry etched her whole face and her heart monitor kicked up a few extra beats.
“I told you. You’ve been lying in this bed for a week. The infection is bad, Jess.” He hated to tell her like this. He wanted her to stay positive and use her strength to get better. He hoped if she understood how dire the situation, she’d fight. “I need you to get better.”
Brody moved to the opposite side of the bed and stared down at Jessie. “Let’s get you settled. You’ll feel better.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever feel better.”
Brody moved the pillows to help her roll over. “I imagine right now you feel like shit. Trust me, I get it. I’ve been where you are right now.” Brody had been wounded by a roadside bomb in Afghanistan. He suffered some burns and shrapnel wounds that put him in the hospital for weeks and rehab for months.
Dylan carefully took her leg at the knee and helped her roll her hips over. He settled her leg on the pillow. Unable to lie on her stomach all the way, her leg and arm had to be propped up to keep them from rubbing on anything. Brody helped raise her shoulders, and then settled her arm over another pillow. Satisfied, she gave a little moan of pleasure at the new position. Dylan and Brody both arranged the IV lines and the wires attached to her monitors.
Dylan brushed her dark hair away from her face. “I’m going to look at your back and see how the wound is healing. It’s going to hurt a little.” Breathing steadily, she’d gone back to sleep. Dark circles marred the skin beneath her eyes. Her skin had lost the warm glow of the fever, taking on a pale, translucent appearance. Sweat dried in her hairline. He’d have to clean her before it dried on her skin and itched.
“I’ll go get a nurse to help change out the sheets and bring some new bandages,” Claire offered and left the room.
Rain and Owen stood at the foot of the bed. Dylan appreciated their help and support, despite the fact there was really nothing anyone could do.