Changing the Game: The Breaking Series #2

by Leigh, Ember

  “Thanks.” That was the understatement of his life. “I don’t think I can fucking move.”

  The guy clamped a hand on his shoulder, looking around. Shadows collected under his eyes. If this was the type of place he hung around, Lex could only imagine what life he led. “Listen, I got my car. It’s a beater, but I can take you someplace. You gotta get help, dude.”

  Lex bent his leg, trying to gain leverage to kick himself up. Nothing. The guy braced him from behind, pulling up as Lex tried again. A roar escaped him; blinding pain shooting up and down his right side. He crumpled back to the ground, all the air in his lungs deserting him.

  “I…fucking…can’t.” The defeat crippled him. There was nothing he could do.

  The guy looked spooked. He paced the ground in front of Lex, back and forth, rubbing a palm against his buzzed head.

  “The cops are on the way.” He turned to Lex, saying it like a confession. It was then that Lex noticed the sculpted arms on display. The guy trained. Scars on his face made him a fighter in Lex’s book. Maybe this was camaraderie.

  “Yeah. What happened?”

  The guy scoffed, kicking his sneaker into the ground. “Someone ratted. Broke the whole gig up after you passed out. Probably kept that guy from killing you.”

  Lex grimaced, his stomach a brick. Everything felt wrong inside him. Like a body transplant he hadn’t consented to.

  “I can’t be here when the cops get here, dude.” The guy shrugged, looking around. “I got some shit going on.”

  Lex nodded, the truth sinking in. He’d be left here alone. Maybe to die after all. Just like the Kings had wanted.

  “Listen, what’s your name?”

  “Lex.” He winced.

  “Lex what?”

  “Olivo. Lexington Olivo. Who are you?”

  “Cobra.” Cobra bent down, clapping a hand on Lex’s shoulder. “What hospital you plannin’ on heading to?”

  Lex inhaled sharply as pain pulsed through him. “St. Vincent.”

  Cobra sniffed, looking around. “I’m gonna run. I’ll stick around to make sure they find you. You ain’t going down tonight, dude.”

  Cobra slapped the side of his arm and popped to his feet, jogging toward the door everyone had escaped through. And then the silence descended. The warehouse stretched wide and gritty around him, totally empty despite the illusion of produce plastered to the outside. He was the only wreckage left of the pop-up brawl.

  His heartbeat throbbed between his ears. The tourniquet was soaked, unnervingly red. He pressed it tight against the wound, wincing against the pain. Fuck, he hoped Cobra would come through for him. That surprise snake could end up being an angel.

  Lex struggled to come to his knees, trying enough times that blood started to drip out past the soaked T-shirt. He winced, settling back onto the ground. His whole side throbbed. Pain pressed through the adrenaline threshold. Not a good sign.

  He sat back, suddenly woozy. Clamminess invaded him, from his toes up to his ears. God, what he wouldn’t do for something soft to fall back on. And a fucking ambulance squad.

  He blinked slowly, swinging his gaze out back to the door. Everything looked strange now, slower somehow. Like the speed on the video reel had been kicked down a few notches.

  Lights flashed outside, the shadows coasting through the door of the warehouse. That was the last thing he saw before he fell backwards. His skull made a sick thud against the ground.

  Everything went black.

  * * *

  The void fuzzed away at the edges. He was being lifted. From the bowels of hell or off the cement floor, he didn’t know. Male voices. Indecipherable.

  * * *

  “You got him?”

  Beeping. The tang of blood in his mouth. More beeping.

  “Start the fluids.”

  * * *

  Lex tried to sit up, groaned into the rigid response of his muscles. Nothing moved. He didn’t even know if he had limbs. He was able to open one eye.

  This had to be an ambulance. The vehicle lurched over a pothole. Someone at his side stilled him, his hand over his chest.

  “Just stay back.” A stern voice. Meant for Lex.

  Lex peered around. Cables swinging. Shit attached to him. His eye drifted shut. The pain was too intense to even make sense of anything. His entire body was on fire. He thought he’d been stabbed, but maybe he’d been burnt, too, for good measure.

  That guy, the last one with him in the warehouse. Had he really helped him? Maybe he’d added a little more hurt onto the heap.

  * * *

  “Easy does it.”

  Lex swallowed hard and tried to speak again. “Where…we goin’?”

  “Oh shit. He speaks.” The paramedic didn’t sound particularly thrilled. “St. Vincent’s. Hope you’ve got insurance.”

  The paramedic’s words made lazy laps inside him for a while. It was the only thing he could latch onto. The ambulance jolted. His teeth hurt, and every cell of his body was uncomfortable.

  “The bleeding won’t stop.” Even above the raucous noise of the pain, Lex could hear the worry in the paramedic’s voice. There was a long pause.

  * * *

  The pause bled onward, until Lex’s body jolted as though he was falling, and he was no longer in the ambulance. Bright light filled the room. The hospital. There was screaming somewhere. This had to be the ER. A face peered down at him.

  “Can you see me?”

  Lex groaned.

  “How many fingers?” A white coated doctor held up three fingers. Lex stared at him. His throat had solidified. Or maybe that was just a tube in there. No words were getting out.

  “Hm.” The doctor turned away, and his voice went muffled as he addressed someone else.

  “Doctor Rich.” A woman’s voice, a little grating. Lex pinched his eyes shut. “She says she needs to see him.”

  “Not now. She can’t be in here until she controls herself.” The snapping of latex. “If she’s in here and has an outburst like that during surgery? Forget it.”

  “She says this is her husband.”

  A long pause, uneven beeping from somewhere. And then a cool swipe across the back of his hand. The same woman’s voice at his ear. “You’ll just feel a small little prick on your left hand.”

  He grunted as a needle pierced his flesh, but it hardly registered among the grand symphony of conflicting pains swelling inside him.

  “She can see him after the surgery. And that’s final.”

  Lex’s world drifted back to black.

  Chapter 25

  Lila jolted when the swinging doors thudded open behind her. She’d been startling like a cat all evening. Despite being well rested and properly caffeinated, she couldn’t focus on anything. Hadn’t been able to, in fact, since Lex had opened the door on her last week in a rage. His face looking like a botched science experiment. More distance between them than the Grand Canyon.

  She’d shown up at his apartment daily since that blowup. Sometimes, he wasn’t home. Other times, he just ignored her. But today, something extra gnawed at her. She tapped the mousepad of her work laptop, as if maybe it might stimulate concentration. Her patient’s half-finished chart stared back at her, reminding her of how far from focused she truly was.

  It was for a vortex of reasons. The unit supervisor had been scuttling around the floor today, her eyes on Lila every time she passed by. Was this a quiet assessment? Part of the review that would get her the promotion? There had been no word for so long.

  And then there was Mason. He’d shown up halfway into her twelve-hour overnight shift. He skulked through the halls, sending brooding looks her way whenever he was in the same room.

  But no matter where she looked, she saw Lex. He was burnt into the undersides of her eyelids. And probably would remain there for the rest of her life.

  Using or not, she was desperate to truly connect with him again. The knot of her heart wouldn’t unravel until she got answers. Until she could explain. Un
til she could tell him the truth: that she was here, she could help him, she wouldn’t leave his side.

  The doors clattered open behind her. She jumped for the fifteenth time that hour. Another patient arriving from the ambulance entrance. She glanced over as the cart rolled in. The nurse attending the ambulance entrance zeroed in on her, keeping pace with the gurney, palm pressed to the patient’s torso.

  “This one’s in critical condition,” she barked. “Late twenties male, stab wound, severe blood loss, pulse 48. We’re taking him straight to the ICU.”

  Lila followed the gurney without a second thought, her legs used to the reaction. As she hurried after the recent paramedic arrival, something whispered at her to look down.

  Her gaze fell to the patient.

  Dark hair mussed, blood caked across the forehead. Face beaten beyond recognition. The swirls of a dragon tattoo over the left shoulder snagged her attention. Her stomach hardened into a fist.

  She ran to keep up with the stretcher as they burst through the doors to the ICU. The man’s torso was bandaged and bloody, his whole body a mess. Swelling prevented her from seeing his face clearly. But somehow…she knew.

  “Lex?” Her voice came out cracked and fearful. Her colleague Jessa sent a sharp glance her way.

  Lila grabbed onto the edge of the stretcher, her mind taking a running leap for the stratosphere. This couldn’t be him. There was no way this was him. The tattoo was a fluke.

  “Do we have the patient’s ID?” Her knuckles turned white around the edge of the stretcher. Jessa shook her head.

  “Paramedics didn’t find one. Whoever called for the ambulance fled the scene. This guy was picked up at the site of a suspected underground gang fight.”

  Lila’s steps slowed as Jessa wheeled the stretcher into an open space behind a curtain. As Jessa prepped the cardiac monitor, Lila stared at the limp figure, making one last plea to the heavens. This couldn’t be Lex. He wasn’t fighting in the gangs anymore. He left that years ago. Her breaths were coming quicker now, tightening her throat. He was fine now. She’d seen him with her own eyes, seen just how fine he was. Her footsteps fell like cement blocks as she approached the bed. The past couple weeks were different; he couldn’t have gone back to fighting because of Lane.

  He couldn’t have.

  Jessa said something to her, but Lila didn’t hear, couldn’t make sense of the words. She had to know if this was Lex. And she knew how to identify him.

  She pulled back the white sheet they’d covered his torso with, revealing the full scope of the dragon tattoo climbing over his shoulder. Beneath the curling swirls of the talons, caked with blood and streaks of dirt, the proof was etched into his skin.

  “Lilo” spelled in gothic lettering. Their celebrity nickname.

  The floor beneath her swooped and dipped. She reached out for something. Hands grabbed her. Jessa was in her face.

  “Are you okay?” She sounded a million miles away. Lila didn’t know how to respond. Her voice had crumbled into dust and drifted away.

  “I…” she began. “This…”

  The commotion of the ICU intensified. Shrill beeps. Tense voices. The anxiety in the air bore down on her. Her legs went wooden, and she was moving without even knowing what she was doing.

  The ER doctor arrived. “Jessa? Lila? We need to begin fluid infusion.”

  Lila was one step ahead of him, already grabbing for the bags. Her focus was so laser sharp it could break skin.

  “I think Lila’s on it,” Jessa said.

  Doctor Rich stumbled backward as Lila brushed past him. “Whoa there.”

  She ground her teeth as she worked, unable to let up, slow down, or do anything other than concentrate.

  Lex’s life depended on it.

  A few moments of tense silence passed. She could feel Jessa and Doctor Rich’s attention sizzling on her.

  “Lila,” Jessa began.

  “We need irrigation,” Lila barked, heading for the cabinets. She rummaged through the shelves, swearing loudly when she couldn’t find the supplies she was looking for. “Doesn’t anyone restock these fucking shelves?”

  “I appreciate your initiative,” Doctor Rich began slowly, “but you are not determining the treatment plan.”

  Lila spun to look at the doctor. “Well hurry it up then! Look at him! He needs attention now. If you won’t do anything, then I will!”

  Jessa and the doctor shared a look.

  “Lila, do you know this patient?” Jessa asked softly.

  Lila turned away, tears brimming in her eyes. If she admitted that she did, they wouldn’t let her stay here. And she needed to save him. There was no other option.

  She gathered her willpower, took another glance at Lex. His skin was ashen. Doctor Rich barked out orders to activate an immediate blood transfusion. Lila knew all the undertones of what was going on here. Lex could bleed out. He could fucking die.

  “We need to work faster,” she said through gritted teeth. But a tear escaped anyway, making a solo trek down her cheek. She tried to wipe it away discreetly but there was no hope. Jessa shook her head, realization softening her face.

  “Lila, you can’t be in here.”

  “What’s wrong?” Doctor Rich sounded distracted, his voice harsh.

  More tears streamed down her cheeks, desperation kicking into high gear. This wasn’t right. Lex wasn’t going to die in front of her. Not like this.

  “Irrigation,” she repeated again, grabbing for the implements.

  “Lila!” Dr. Rich pulled at her. Jessa was calling for someone else. Lila’s breath came out in pinched gasps, every inch of her skin crawling. She grabbed at his hand. Limp, cool. Tears spill out of her eyes, dripping down onto the sheet.

  Dr. Rich was tugging at her shoulders now, ripping her from the beside. Jessa raced around, prepping fluids. To Dr. Rich, she said, “We need to work faster. Just let me save him.”

  “Absolutely not.” Dr. Rich’s voice was firm, and he pulled her from the curtained area, down the bright hallway heading for the main ER. “You need to go back to the nurse’s station and wait. Do not come back in here.”

  Dr. Rich opened the swinging doors of ICU and pointed toward the nurse’s station just down the hall. Lila blinked at him, then looked over his shoulder. This wasn’t fair. She couldn’t survive knowing Lex was in the other room possibly taking his last breaths.

  “I need to know if he’s lost too much blood,” she began, the tears clogging her throat. She knew too much about all the ways this could go wrong. She’d seen men die right where Lex lay. “Please—”

  “Go.” Dr. Rich pointed behind her. “Don’t prevent me from treating this patient because you can’t handle yourself. Time is of the essence. This is your last chance.”

  Lila clamped her mouth shut, watching him with watery eyes. He was right. Lila tore down the hall away from ICU, burying clenched fists in the front of her scrubs.

  A billion thoughts clanked together. She didn’t hear when her supervisor called for her, just felt the hand around her arm.

  “Lila. What is going on?”

  Lila studied the soft lines of her supervisor’s face, unsure where to begin. She opened her mouth to speak but all that came out was a choked sob.

  * * *

  They put her on unpaid leave.

  Personal emergency.

  Lila tapped her thumb against the strap of her purse. Forty-five. Forty-six. Forty-seven. Counting helped, somehow. Anything to distract herself. She’d been forced into the waiting room with all the other regular emergency room visitors, a fact she resented despite understanding entirely.

  Narrowed eyes from other visitors found her. She’d paced the far edge of the waiting room so much she’d probably already worn a groove in the carpet. A cough from behind the doors. She jerked her head up. Nope. Nobody coming through yet.

  Fifty-one. Fifty-two. Fifty-three. She’d restarted the count too many times. It bore no weight. Was Lex alive? She huffed, stomping over to th
e vending machine. Everyone behind those doors knew more than she did. All she needed was a whiff—a glance from the doctor leaving surgery, an overheard transcription, the shake of a head as a nurse pulled off gloves. Anything would help.

  But out here, she got nothing. Fuck this anxiety, and fuck Lex for giving it to her. Tears filled her eyes again. She rummaged through her purse for a crumpled dollar bill, stuffing it into the vending machine. Except she couldn’t see through the sheen of tears. The bill folded every time she tried to insert it. Finally, she kicked the vending machine and ripped the dollar in half, throwing the useless pieces to the floor.

  More eyes on her.

  She dragged a hand through her hair. She hadn’t looked at herself since Lex came into the hospital; surely, she was a wreck. Sniveling. Mascara running. Her entire life suspended between two potential outcomes: a relieved sigh or a funeral.

  She fished a tissue out of her purse. Her emergency pack was almost depleted. And fuck the heartache she’d live with if he died. She’d mourn for the rest of her life, she was sure of that much.

  You can’t go now. Not when you have a son to get to know. Not when you have me waiting for you.

  Was he traveling through space and time, headed for the pearly gates right now? She pinched her eyes shut, trying to imagine him following the light. She practiced calling him back. Urging his spirit to return. Get the fuck back on the physical plane. Don’t you dare cross over, Lex, or I swear to all that is holy, I will hold a grudge against you for eternity.

  Threatening his spirit probably wouldn’t help. But at this point, it was all she had. She blew her nose. How much longer until someone relayed information? She checked the patient door compulsively. Just in case someone had started to open the door and she missed the initial creak of the hinge.

  If—when—he made it out of there alive, Lila had some words lined up for him. First and foremost being, What the actual Christ happened to you?