A Reunion of Lips

XXVI

Mitch didn't open his eyes when he woke up. He was content to sink into the soft bed sheets and pillows behind his back, and enjoy the nice quiet of the room and sweet smell of flowers. It was a lot nicer than the vague memories he had of yelling and beeping and bright lights and worried whispering and poking. He figured the quiet keyboard clicking from nearby was Scott. If he opened his eyes and it wasn't Scott though—if the door didn't have a handle for shit's sake—he was going to officially lose it.

Oh, and there was the bubble of anxiety. Right on schedule.

Mitch cracked an eye open and breathed a sigh of relief when it was indeed Scott sitting in a chair right next to his bed. Hm. The bed in Scott's room. Not a hospital bed? Mitch glanced down at his arm, wrapped in gauze and pinned to him with a sling. That was new. The dull ache wasn't nearly as bad as he remembered it being, though. Well, only one way to find out more.

"Told you I wouldn't die on you." Mitch would've laughed at Scott's jump, but he was pretty sure that would hurt. "What did I miss?"

Scott closed his computer and set it on the edge of the bed so he could scoot forward in the chair he had dragged up there and give Mitch his full attention. "What do you remember?"

Mitch shrugged with his left shoulder. "I dunno, bits and pieces? Assume nothing."

The edges of Scott's mouth perked up. "Yeah, the nurses said that would probably happen. You were awake for a while, but loopy-Mitch didn't seem like he was that aware of what was happening."

"...which was?"

Scott grimaced. "Reparative surgery and stitches after a gunshot wound to your upper arm."

Mitch scrunched up his face. "Ew. No thanks."

Scott nodded. "My thoughts exactly. The doctors said the bullet went into your arm and fractured the bone—just missing your brachial artery, I think it's called, and giving them—and me—quite a scare. So one chunk of the bullet stayed in your arm and the other went out the other side and grazed your chest. Your chest and arm got stitches, and the bone got two pins, I think."

Mitch stared down at his arm. "Uh, okay then. How long have I been out of it?"

"'Bout two days. Nina and Cora—from Kevin's specialized security team—apprehended the shooter and he's already been tried and sentenced. Apparently, he got paid off by my fa—the Duke."

Mitch perked up. "Did Kevin arrest them?"

Scott nodded, looking relieved at even just the memory. "At least that went right. The Duke has already been tried and sentenced—he's never getting out of prison—but the Duchess is seeking partial immunity by offering to go to Myrosias and help President Jose stop his rebellion. Either way, we got them."

Mitch pumped his unrestrained arm and whooped.

"Yeah, same. We're figuring that the reason they were going to Alluvia in the first place was to be closer to the border because of their hit man in case something went wrong. They didn't really say anything, other than to confirm that they did hire the shooter, so we don't know if he was supposed to aim for me, and then changed his mind or missed? Or if they were actually aiming for you and you just happened to get back to the palace in time, so they never knew they had kidnapped you and almost ruined their own plans."

"Woulda been pretty funny if the hit man showed up and I just... wasn't here."

Scott laughed. "Yeah. Kevin already put out the warrants for the known rebels and Senators who we know were involved too, so the country's at a bit of a stand-still right now. Oh, and Esther tried, but she couldn't keep the media out, so now it's everywhere and kind of a shitshow. So far, everything's going pretty good. A bunch of people have turned themselves in, and a bunch of people have been stopped at the border and arrested, too."