Hidden Play: The Return 《COMPLETE》

Chapter 31

Zion's POV

All I see is red. It winks in and out of my vision, like little kernels of fury pop-pop-popping inside my skull. Hushed whispers reverberate behind closed doors. Quick feet shuffle and white shoes squeak across the tiled floor. Monotonous beeps are the background music to this realm of Hell, a grim reminder that we're all on borrowed time. And the smell - fuck, that smell. Sterile death.

Sharpe collapses into the seat beside me in the waiting room. His dusty blonde hair is disheveled. He runs a hand through it, nervously tugging on the ends as he looks around at the other people peppered throughout the room. A few are sleeping, some are on their phones, but the majority are glancing between the doors and the clock - almost willing the doctor to come out with news of their loved ones.

"Man, I hate hospitals," Sharpe mutters, more to himself than to me. "You hear anything yet?"

I rest my elbows on my knees and lean forward, loosing a sigh of mixed frustration and guilt.

"Nothing yet."

Sharpe mirrors my body positioning and bumps my shoulder with his.

"Don't do that, man. This isn't your fault."

I grunt my disagreement. I replay our kiss in the locker room - the heat, the passion, and the need. Broncs getting jumped might not be my fault, but if I had just fucking waited, this wouldn't have happened. I wouldn't have let anyone lay a finger on him. Anyone.

"Gigi hasn't responded to my texts for the last twenty minutes," Sharpe mutters, checking his phone and then sliding it back into his pocket. "That's not a good sign."

"Did you text the guys?"

He nods. "Whole team knows. Got ahold of Hunter, too. Still don't trust that dude, by the way. He's got that look in his eye, ya' know?"

I stare back at him, revealing nothing of my own opinion. Instead, my gaze narrows, silently demanding he continue with his update.

"Anyway," he continues, "I texted Gigi and asked if they should be here or not. If Broncs' family gives it the green light, they'll have a whole waiting room full of support. But in times like these, sometimes the less people the better."

I hum under my breath. Two nurses scuttle past. One of them catches my gaze, and a flirtatious smile curls onto her painted lips. I scowl in response, and Sharpe lets out a gruff laugh under his breath.

"Unbelievable," he muses. "You're a chick magnet wherever you go, even in a damn hospital."

I don't react, and my expression remains unchanged. Sharpe eyes me closly, studying my face with silent curiosity.

"I've had my suspicions, you know," he admits quietly. "Ever since we went to Radik's cabin a few months ago. You couldn't take your eyes off Broncs. Then the way you two kissed during our game of One-Up..."

His voice trails, wordlessly prodding me to say something. Anything.

"Well," I mutter. "Now you know."

Sharpe blinks once. Twice. Gentle acceptance sweeps across his expression. In two blinks, he's on board.

"When did you guys start - you know..."

His voice trails off, and he shifts uncomfortably beneath the weight of my warning gaze. He swallows once, his adam's apple bobbing up and down, and then tries again.

"I mean, when did it all start between you two?"

Despite the somber mood, I think back on my moments with Broncs, and a comforting warmth fills my chest.