Page 88 of Bastard Bartender

I practically run into Dro with how quickly I’m approaching him. “How is he?”

“He’s still out. We snuck back there, but the doctor kicked us out. They’re doing an assessment.”

“What happened exactly?”

“He had a bad exit. It’s what they call the leap. It was a short jump, so there shouldn’t have been a problem, yet Nic took off weird, and his body—”

“Stop saying Nic jumped wrong. You should have chosen a higher jump point,” Mario chimes in, clearly annoyed.

“The spot was fine. The company uses it all the time,” Dro argues.

Logan speaks up from his seat, “The terminal velocity of a skydiver in a belly-to-earth free fall is a hundred twenty-one miles per hour, which takes three seconds to reach. These idiots jumped from a position of less than a hundred and fifty feet, meaning there’s insufficient time to reach terminal speed to get the air flow needed to stabilize their position during flight time.”

I run my hands through my hair and tug. “I don’t understand any of this.”

Mario turns to me and explains, “Nic jumped and didn’t have enough time to stabilize himself properly. When he pulled his chute, the lines got tied and veered him into the canyon. He hit his head—hard—and now, we’re here.”

A doctor with a white coat comes out from a doorway and is headed toward us. “Are you the family of Nicolás Santiago?”

“Yes,” the three men say at once.

Logan rises from his seat, and I’m in front quickly.

“How is he?” I ask impatiently.

She looks at the three of us with a questioning eye.

As if already sensing the question, Dro leans forward and points to me, saying, “Yes, we’re family. She’s the wife, and we’re his three brothers. Is Nic okay?”

The doctor pauses for a moment. If she has any doubts we are not immediate family, which she should since the three men are a mix of a Puerto Rican, Italian, and … I’m not exactly sure what Logan is, she doesn’t question it.

“He’s stable. The impact of his body against the rock caused physical injuries. He broke his clavicle, fractured his shoulder and ribs, and will need a plate in his forearm. That can all be repaired. As for the head, there’s no internal bleeding, but he did hit it hard, so there’s nothing to do now, except wait.”

“Wait.” Dro seethes at her angrily. “That’s your answer? Wait—”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Logan intervenes with a calming hand on Dro’s shoulder. “Can we see our brother?”

“Yes. Only two at a time until he’s moved into a room.” The doctor dismisses herself and heads back to the room.

“Evette should go in first. You’re the only one who hasn’t seen him,” Logan says.

“He’ll probably be more excited to hear your voice than these sorry asses,” Mario adds.

Dro laughs lightly. “You could whisper some dirty things in his ear. Maybe that’ll wake him up.”

I roll my eyes as I smile at his ridiculous comment. Even with their best friend in a coma, these guys manage to keep the riff-raff alive. I know if Nic were here, he’d do the same.

The three of them let me go to Nic alone. It’s sweet, the way they have welcomed me so easily into their circle. I’d like to think it’s a reflection of Nic’s feelings for me. The words he’s said about me. The stories he’s shared with them. As I walk into the room, I feel honored to have this private audience with him.

And then I see him.

Grey’s Anatomydid nothing to prepare me for what I’m witnessing right now.

Nic is lying in the bed with a brace on his neck and a cast all the way down his arm. His face is bruised and swollen on one side with dry blood along his cheek.

The blanket is pulled up to his torso. My first instinct is to pull it higher because he might be cold.

My breath trembles as a wave of emotion rushes up my chest and out my mouth, followed by tears. I try to breathe in to calm my emotions, but it’s no use. Seeing this man—this brawny man with a zest for life, who never seems to stay still—lying here, so vulnerable, is heartbreaking.