The Bartender and The Injured

Chapter Seventeen: Kaylee

Chapter Seventeen

Kaylee

Mother fucker.

"Dammit Luke! Don't go to sleep!" I yelled as I saw his eyes close.

"Ehh," he moaned. And passed out.

I immediately let go of his hand and called the doctor from the room door. He rushed into the room with nurses by his side and I was promptly removed from the scene.

Outside, I was met by a crying Mrs. C., a nervous looking Jess, and a tired Mrs. Stevens. They all came to me, as if I would have any news. And I guess I did.

"I was talking to him, like I would any day, and cracked a joke and I heard him laugh softly. He pulled on my hand and...and..." I didn't realize that I was sobbing until I couldn't catch my breath. I held my head in my hands. "He passed out again!"

By now, I was clutching onto Jessie, who had pulled me into a hug, as I shook and shook and sobbed.

"Shh, it's okay. He'll wake up again," he whispered.

"But what if it's my fault?! What if I made him laugh and he fainted because of me?!" I was now reaching hysteria.

In an instant, Mrs. Confalite had grabbed me from Jessie and gripped my arms. "No, sweetheart. It's because of you that he woke up!"

I shook my head, looking down.

Mrs. C. pulled me to her and I laid my head on her shoulder, trying my hardest to calm down. Eventually, we made our way to the waiting room, where she sat down next to me still holding me.

It made me feel like a small child. I hadn't been held like this by an adult in over three years.

The day I left home was the day my life with my parents was over. My dad was a drunken asshole that didn't deserve to be called a father to begin with. And my mom was a fragile thing. She didn't have the spine to confront anyone and I did. I think that's why she hated me. But that's why I moved out.

I had money from odd jobs I'd been working since I was fourteen and my uncle Tim, the only normal one in the family, had given me an old Jeep he'd fixed up for my seventeenth birthday. By the time I was seventeen and three quarters, I was out in my own little apartment.

Tim had helped me in the beginning. He was the youngest from my father's side. He knew of my father's problems but could never find it in him to really stop Dad, like many others, so he took it within his power to help me break that cycle. Tim paid for my rent the first month and is now helping me by fixing my Jeep whenever it needs anything for free. He owns a chain of mechanic stores around the nation and is practically drowning in money.

I do love Uncle Timmy.

But he was a grown up man, with a fiancée who was expecting twins, and couldn't really have a teenaged niece living with him. Not that he didn't offer. He did. But I turned him down. I could live on my own. I'd managed to fend for myself in the years past so it wasn't news.

Still, I hadn't felt the comfort of home at all, never in my memories, so it was strange for me to be held by this woman, someone I didn't know, yet meant so much to the guy in a hospital bed. Strange indeed.

"Are you okay, honey? You know that no one blames you for anything. It was all of Luke's own fault."

I shook my head. "No, I should've just kept my mouth shut. I just wanted him to open his eyes. I didn't mean to stress him out." I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand.

"It's okay, sweetie, the main thing is he woke up. Now it'll be much easier for him to keep going at it, he won't give up," she whispered.

We finally pulled away once I got my breathing back to normal and headed off to the room where a now sleeping, stabilized Luke lay.