Page 52 of Lick

“You looked too comfortable to move,” he admits, but he’s distracted.

Now that I’m properly awake, I read the room and can tell that something’s wrong. Really wrong. “Dot?”

“Go straight to Lick’s room, Emma. I’ll talk to you when I find out what’s going on.”

I swallow. Not wanting to get in the way, I do as he asks and head on up to Lick’s room. I don’t bother changing. Instinct tells me I might need to leave at a moment’s notice. I lie down on the comforter and bury my face in Lick’s pillow, convinced I can still smell him there.

Even as exhausted as I am, I don’t fall asleep. Stress and worry make my gut churn, and it doesn’t help that I hear yelling and glass breaking downstairs. I contemplate creeping down so I can listen in. Ultimately, I decide against it, not wanting to be a nosy bitch when none of it’s my concern, though I’m scared out of my wits.

I don’t know how long I’ve been lying there before I drift off into a fitful sleep. It’s made worse by the fact that I hate sleeping in Lick’s bed alone, which is largely the reason I fall asleep in the main room so much.

When I wake up, I almost wish I hadn’t bothered to sleep in the first place, somehow feeling worse for it. I sit up and try to work out some of the kinks, but I have a headache and feel queasy. I manage to get to my feet, but when I look around, I realize Dot never brought my bag up after all. With a groan, I slip my shoes back on and head downstairs, hoping I can find it quickly. Something tells me I’m going to need my meds today.

I push through the door to the main room and come to a halt when I find people in it, sitting around a table, drinking coffee with sombre expressions on their faces. They all look over when I walk in. Some of them wince, some of them look sad, but it’s Dot’s look of regret that has me taking a step forward.

“What’s wrong? Why are you all looking at me like that?”

Dot gets to his feet and lumbers over to me as if trying not to spook me. I take a step back, self-preservation kicking in. Some part of me instinctively knows I don’t want to hear whatever it is he’s going to say.

“You might want to sit down, Emma.”

“Just tell me, Dot.”

“It’s Lick. There’s been an incident.” And just like that, the bottom drops out of my world.

“What do you mean there’s been an incident?” I look from Dot to the rest of the guys, but nobody is answering. “Gator? Fester?” I ask shakily, but neither of them answers me.

“Is…is he dead? Just tell me that much,” I beg on a broken whisper.

Dot tugs me into his arms, holding me tightly when I resist. “He’s not dead, Em. But it’s not good. He was shot.”

I yank myself out of his arms and glare up at him. “He was shot?” My voice comes out shrilly.

“He was performing, and shots were fired. He was shot twice, once just below his shoulder, which hit a rib, and once in his lower back. That’s the one they’re concerned about right now.”

I grip the nearest chair for support when my legs threaten to give out on me. “But he’s alive?”

“He’s alive,” Dot tells me softly. “I wouldn’t lie about this.”

Not that he wouldn’t lie to me at all, but that he wouldn’t lie to me about this. For some reason, the distinction helps. I’m not sure I’d have believed him otherwise.

I swipe at my tears and get to my feet. “Can I see him?”

“He’s not local right now, but pres is arranging to have him transferred to The Priory Hospital once he’s stable enough to be moved.”

“That’s the private hospital, right?”

He nods, watching me carefully.

“Good, that’s good. He’ll get the best care there. He’s gonna need things. Clothes, toothbrush, books. We should pack him a bag.”

“Emma—”

“He’ll need a blanket. Hospitals are always cold. Even fancy private ones.”

“Em.” I look up when Dot says my name softly. “We’ll make sure he’s taken care of. But for now, you need to take care of yourself and your baby. You’ll be no good to Lick if you make yourself ill.”

My shoulders slump. He’s right. Everything has been so good lately, I should have known the universe would yank the rug out from under us.