I rested my elbows on my knees and tried to look relaxed. But inside, a rage simmered in my gut. Someone had tried to end Nash’s life. You didn’t mess with a Morgan and walk away from it.
“Some asshole tried to kill you tonight.”
“You mad someone almost beat you to it?”
“They know who did it?” I asked.
The corner of his mouth lifted as if it were too much effort to smile. “Why? You gonna get him back?”
“You almost died, Nash. Grave said you came this close to bleeding out before the ambulance got there.” The truth of it had bile rising in my throat.
“It’s gonna take more than a couple of bullets and a wrestling match to end me,” he assured me.
I ran my palms over my knees. Back and forth, trying to tamp down the anger. The need to break something.
“Naomi was here.” Even as I said it, I didn’t know why. Maybe just saying her name out loud made everything feel a little more bearable.
“Of course she was. She thinks I’m hot.”
“I don’t care how many bullet holes you’ve got in you. I’m moving on that,” I told him.
Nash’s sigh was closer to a wheeze. “About damn time. Quicker you screw it up, the quicker I can swoop in and be the good guy.”
“Fuck off, dick.”
“Hey, who’s the one in the hospital bed, asshole? I’m a damn hero. Women can’t resist a hero with bullet holes.”
The hero in question winced when he shifted in the bed, his hand reaching for the tray then falling back to the mattress.
I rose and poured the water bottle into the waiting cup. “Yeah, well, maybe you should stay in here out of my way for a couple of days. Give me a shot at fucking it all up.”
I pushed the cup and straw to the edge of the tray and watched him reach for it with his good arm. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his hand shook as his fingers closed around the plastic.
I’d never seen him like this. I’d seen him every other way. Hungover, wrung out from the flu bug of 1996, exhausted after pouring his heart out in the homecoming football game his senior year. But I’d never seen him look weak.
Another nurse pulled back the curtain with an apologetic smile. “Just checking the fluids,” he said.
Nash gave him a thumbs-up, and we lapsed into silence while the nurse busied himself with IVs. My brother was hooked to a half dozen machines in the ICU. And I’d gone years with barely speaking to him.
“How’s your pain?” the nurse asked.
“Fine. Practically non-existent.”
His answer was too quick. His mouth too tight. My brother had played the second half of that homecoming game with a broken wrist. Because he might be the nice brother, the good brother. But he didn’t like showing weakness any more than I did.
“He’s in it,” I tattled to the nurse.
“Don’t listen to him,” Nash insisted. But he couldn’t hide the grimace when he shifted on the mattress.
“A bullet just ripped its way through your torso, chief. You don’t have to be in pain to heal,” he said.
“Yeah. You do,” he countered. “Pain is what tells you you’re alive. You numb that, and how do you know you’re still here?”
“She thinks we’re both idiots,” I said when the nurse left.
Nash gave a wheeze followed by a wracking cough that looked like it was going to tear him apart before collapsing back on the bed. I watched the green spikes on his heart rate monitor slowly settle. “Who?” he said, finally.
“Naomi.”
“Why would Naomi think I’m an idiot?” he asked wearily.
“Told her why things are the way they are.”
“She wasn’t impressed with your Robin Hood routine or my manly independence?”
“Not even a little. She may have made a few points.”
“About what?”
“About how she thought it was over a woman. Not money.”
Nash’s head was slowly lolling to the side, his eyelids getting heavier. “So love is worth a family feud but a few million isn’t?”
“That was the gist of it.”
“Can’t say she’s wrong.”
“Then why the fuck didn’t you just suck it up and make it right?” I snapped.
Nash’s smile was a ghost. His eyes were closed. “You’re the big brother. And you were the one trying to make me beholden to you by shoving cash down my throat.”
“The only reason I’m not kicking your ass right now is you’re attached to too many machines.”