Nicole Edwards: Zane

Since then, V had answered her phone at least ten times, every time speaking to a different brother or Zane’s parents and even one time talking to a man named Luke McCoy, whom she didn’t even know. Supposedly, according to the brief phone conversation she had with Lorrie Walker only minutes before, they were on their way to the hospital and she was to sit tight.

Right. As if she could even sit down.

She knew they were close, but they weren’t getting there fast enough. They’d left the ground breaking ceremony after her initial text.

The ground breaking ceremony.

Where she and Zane were supposed to be.

Oh God!

Her head was pounding with what the EMT’s told her was probably a concussion, but her heart was racing ninety miles a minute from not knowing what was happening to Zane. She didn’t care about herself. She needed to know how Zane was.

How bad was he? What were they doing to him? Was he going to be all right? Those were only a few of the questions running at lightning speed through her brain, the same questions that everyone who worked in that damn hospital refused to answer for her.

The other question – where was Zoey?

V desperately needed a distraction before she started chewing off her fingernails. A terrible habit she had broken years ago, but one that was threatening to reemerge with a vengeance.

A loud commotion at the ER entrance caught her attention, and V swung around to see a group of people – a large group at that – pushing into the small waiting area. Coming in with them were the chaotic murmurs of concerned family.

“Zoey,” V whispered her friend’s name as she emerged from the group of massive males, making a beeline straight for her. Never in her life had V been happier to see her best friend than she was right then.

The second she came in contact with Zoey’s much smaller body, she nearly fell to her knees. Overwhelmed by the enormity of what this all meant, V began sobbing like a baby.

“Honey, I’m here.” Zoey whispered in her ear, holding her tightly against her and running her hand through her hair. Being held had never felt so good, and V was relieved to have someone she knew she could turn to.

The chaos ensued around them, but V didn’t look up, nor did she stop crying as she sent up a steady stream of silent prayers for Zane. Even when the buzz of more Walker males speaking around them, she continued to sob, never speaking, just quietly begging.

Please, God, please let Zane be ok.

♂♀

Three Months later... December

“Will you stop hovering, goddammit?” Zane was literally two seconds away from jumping out of the damn bed and showing his brother exactly what he thought of him acting like a fucking mother hen. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Actually, no.” Braydon grinned, and Zane wanted to punch him. Square in the mouth. “I’ve dedicated my entire morning to seeing your pretty face.”

Just fucking perfect. “Fantastic.”

Just what he needed – a fucking babysitter.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Braydon added in that facetiously ornery tone that made Zane’s hands clench into fists.

He knew damned good and well why Braydon was there. For the same reason, at least one of his six brothers visited him each day – so he didn’t just walk out of the damn prison that was disguised as a hospital. The one he’d been sentenced to for the last three months.

“Well, you should find somewhere to go then before I get out of this bed and kick your ass,” Zane told him.

“I’d like to see you try.” The same cocky grin Zane saw, more often than not, on one of the twins’ faces reflected back at him. Only when Braydon did it, he managed to get under Zane’s skin like no one else.

Zane growled in response to the dare.

Little did his older brother know, but Zane was finally capable of doing just that. Well, the getting out of bed part anyway.

For the last two months, ever since he’d come out of his month long coma, Zane had been working like a maniac, to get his body back to where it was before the brutal attack that left him unable to walk, along with other things. Aside from the multitude of broken bones – all of which had healed nicely during his three month vacation in the hospital – Zane had been diagnosed as having severe Traumatic Brain Injury. And in case the doctors didn’t know, that wasn’t something to be shared with his six older brothers. They’d had a field day trying to convince the doctors and nurses that he’d been born that way.

After three and a half weeks in a coma, Zane had woken up only to find that he wasn’t able to do some of the things he had taken for granted most of his life. Both walking and talking had been on that list if only for a brief time. After two months of rigorous physical therapy and finally, a much anticipated breakthrough, Zane could do pretty much everything he had before the attack. Only it required a little more effort on his part.

Aside from the emotional scars, Zane had healed rather well. A couple of physical scars that were visible with his clothes on would remind him and his family of what he’d been through. Nothing significant. Although the small, three inch scar beside his left eye was a glaring reminder of the payback that was due.

For the last week, he had even been allowed to do some strength training exercises that weren’t reserved for children or the elderly. And now he was feeling as though he could take on the world. Bench pressing three hundred and fifty pounds again might take more time than he originally expected, but he was working on it. Not that he would let his therapist know that.

Regardless, Zane was on the path to a full recovery and, quite frankly, he was ready to move on with his life... right out the front doors of the hospital. It’d taken some time to win over Dr. Canton, the frustratingly patient doc who’d been by his side for longer than either of them had probably expected. To his relief, the good doctor had finally told him today was the day. The day they were finally letting him go home. So, yes, Zane knew full well that Braydon was there to ensure he didn’t get any bright ideas about running out of the building like a mad man.

The thought had crossed his mind a time or two.

Along with spending the better part of these last few months focusing on his recovery, Zane had also been battling an overwhelming sense of violence – the kind that would certainly get his ass thrown in jail for man slaughter. His temper was only exacerbated by the memories of what that bastard Jake Sanders’ buddy had done to Vanessa on the very day Jake and his friends had nearly beaten Zane to death in a surprise attack on V’s front lawn.

Don’t get him wrong, Zane knew better than anyone that his condition could have been much, much worse. He was more than grateful just to be alive and to have his body and mind in one piece was an even bigger reason to send up prayers of thanks, but that didn’t stop the blinding fury that now pulsed right along with his heartbeat.

If it hadn’t been for his mother, Zane would’ve probably gone AWOL by now. The look in Lorrie Walker’s crystal blue eyes and the tears that continued to swim in them weakened Zane even more than the combination of tire irons and being out of it for almost a month. So, here he was, wishing like hell he had managed to control his temper better. At least then his brothers wouldn’t know how pissed off he truly was. Not that hiding anything from them was easy. Considering he’d spent the last two months getting reacquainted with his wild and crazy brothers, Zane had also managed to fill up his TMI quota for the year. He was pretty sure Sawyer was out to win the title of the most ludicrous of them all. The man had mental issues.