Page 81 of Grumpy

“Mrs. Bell, I’m Dr. Banerjee.” He pulled up a backless rolling stool next to the bed. “I’m the trauma surgeon who operated on Mr. Bell. I want to give you an update on his condition and what we’ve done so far. I understand this is his daughter. Do I have permission to speak in front of her as well?”

“Yes, of course,” Kelly hastily replied, eager for answers. “How is he? Can I see him?”

Dr. Banerjee held up his hand, clearly asking for patience. “In due time. I’d like to speak to you here so as not to distress him further.” At Kelly’s reluctant nod, the man continued, “Our most urgent concern when Mr. Bell first came in was the blood loss from his back injuries. The debris impact caused multiple deep lacerations across his posterior torso, several of which tore through existing skin graft tissue. We took him into surgery to debride those wounds. His wounds were extensive, but we were able to control the bleeding and stabilize his blood pressure. He received two units of packed red blood cells during the procedure.

“Unfortunately, that’s the extent of the good news that I have for you. Several of the graft sites that were previously healing have been significantly compromised. Some will need revision surgery, but we’re not going to do that here. That needs to happen with his original surgical team who knows his case. What we’ve done is stabilize and protect those areas so he can be safely transported when the time comes. He’s going to be on heavy antibiotics for some time. The contamination from the water and debris is our biggest concern for infection right now, and infection in compromised graft tissue can become very serious very quickly. We’re watching him closely. Do you have any questions for me so far?”

“Is he in pain?” Maddie asked before Kelly could.

Dr. Banerjee did not shy away from or sugarcoat the truth. “Yes, but we are trying to manage it. The less stress he’s under, the better.”

Kelly winced at that answer, but it wasn’t all that different from the one she’d been given six months ago.

Maddie’s worry was evident. “What about knocking him out? Making it so he’s not in pain?”

Dr. Banerjee’s look was patient and kind. “That’s actually something we have to be careful about with Mr. Bell specifically. Sedation and general anesthesia carry risks we want to minimize given his history. He’s already had multiple surgeries and his body has been under significant stress for six months. More importantly, with a new concussion on top of an existing TBI, we need him conscious and responsive so we can monitor his neurological status. If we sedate him, we lose that window. A patient who can tell us his head hurts or that something feels wrong is giving us valuable information. One who’s sedated can’t do that.

“What we can do and are doing is keeping his pain managed with IV analgesics at a level that takes the edge off without compromising his consciousness or masking symptoms we need to see. It’s a balance, and I won’t pretend it’s a comfortable one for him. But it’s the safest approach given everything his body is already managing.”

“New concussion?” Kelly asked, worried.

The doctor nodded. “We did a CT scan as soon as he was stable enough. His facial hardware is intact, no displacement. The new concussion is likely from an impact during the storm.”

Kelly rubbed her eyes. “What about his ears? They were bleeding. Is that from the concussion?”

“No,” Dr. Banerjee explained. “He has additional barotrauma on top of what looks like pre-existing tympanic membrane damage. The bleeding has resolved on its own, but his hearing is going to be significantly impaired for the foreseeable future. I’d recommend an ENT consult when he’s back home. Combined with his existing TBI history, we’re going to be monitoring him carefully for the next couple of days.”

“Maddie’s also going to be here for a few days,” Kelly murmured, though it wasn’t like that was going to affect Grumpy’s care. “Can I see him now?”

“Yes, of course. I’ve already spoken to Dr. Lisbon, and she’s cleared Maddie here for a short,” he emphasized, “field trip. I think after everything the three of you have been through today you deserve a⁠—”

“Stop! You can’t go in there! Security!”

The loud ruckus from the hallway drew everyone’s attention. Dr. Banerjee stood, his defensive stance hinting at a military background.

“Stop! Security!”

A bloody hand was the first thing Kelly saw. Then a man fell into the doorframe, barely catching himself. He was so covered in mud, blood, and grime that his features were almost indiscernible. A painful grunt sounded as he slid himself up the frame, though not quite standing to his full height.

At first, Kelly couldn’t figure out what it was she was looking at. It appeared as if he had a third arm. But then he turned, and Kelly realized it wasn’t an arm sticking out of his back but a branch.

White teeth flashed against the dark filth coating his face as he smiled. “Found you.” And then Jackson collapsed.

CHAPTER 16

Grumpy didn’t question whether or not he was still alive. He hurt too much to be dead. To say that everything hurt would have been an understatement, but he also knew he’d survived worse pain. Unlike last time, he knew where he was and why he was there. Or at least, he guessed where he was, since he hadn’t opened his eye yet. That heavy antiseptic, rubbery stale smell was too distinct for him to be anywhere except at a hospital.

When he’d woken up six months ago, his thoughts had been extremely chaotic due to his TBI. Even mild, it had caused a lot of confusion and the occasional memory loss. There was one heartbreakingly scary day when he hadn’t remembered that Ghost was now his president and he’d asked where Melanie was. Thankfully, none of his memory loss had been permanent; it had just been jumbled for a while.

That was not the case now. He remembered the tornado. More than that, he remembered his extreme fear at the knowledge that he was not strong or fast enough to protect his woman and his pregnant daughter. The taste of failure was sour on his tongue, twisting his stomach into terrible knots. Whatever medication the hospital was feeding him must have been strong, though, because he didn’t think he was going to vomit. Which made it worse in a way, unable to purge that feeling physically. Instead, he had to battle through it mentally while his body lay useless.

He needed to get up. He needed to find Kelly and Maddie. Where were they? Were they safe? Hurt? What about his grandbabies? Grumpy would never forgive himself if any of them had gotten hurt. What if Maddie survived but one or both of her babies hadn’t? He needed to be there for her, to help her through that awful reality.

It was weird, thinking of himself as a grandfather. For nearly a decade, he’d struggled with the word ‘father’. He’d watched others with their kids, only Steel and Lucky at first, and then the others as they started creating their families. On his worst days, he’d been jealous. He’d own that. He’d loved being Maddie’s father, loved feeling part of a unit with Tanya and Mads. Others in the club had questioned Bulldog’s immediate assurance that Cassie and Lila, both children Abby had rescued from the cult she’d escaped from, were as much his children as the two babies Abby had borne her rapist. None of his four children that he’d suddenly claimed were his by blood. The others hadn’t gotten it, but Grumpy had.

Fatherhood wasn’t about blood, about passing on his genetics. It was about legacy, love, and the knowledge that there was nothing he would not do for his child.

On his better days, Grumpy had simply been sad. That cloud of despair hovering over his heart, remembering what he’d lost because a court decided blood was more important than action. If he’d tried to see Mads in spite of the restraining order, there was a good chance he’d have gone to jail. Sometimes he thought it would have been worth it. At least then he could say he’d tried to fight for her, instead of feeling like a coward most days for running away. But logic always chased away those fantasies. Going to jail wouldn’t have proven anything to anyone, beyond that he was stupid enough to ignore a judge’s ruling.