I nodded. “Yes. His sister is on her way, but until then I’m all he has.”

Doctor Jenson sighed as he ran a hand over his sweaty forehead. “Okay, Dallas. At least I don’t have to sugarcoat it for you.”

“Is he alive?” I demanded, needing to know that before he spoke another word.

“Yes.” A relieved sob escaped me before I could call it back and the doctor’s face tightened. “Barely.”

“So just spit it out,” I commanded, too distraught to care about manners. My emotions were too close to the surface and I was about to snap.

“I relieved the pressure on his brain. There was so much swelling that I had no other choice. His spleen was removed and we were able to stop the bleeding from his liver. While he was under, he seized twice, complicating the process, but he is stable at the moment.” I twisted my fingers together but nodded in understanding so Dr. Jenson continued. “His wrist was set, but on top of that he is going to have to undergo a few more surgeries within the next few days. His left leg is shattered, not just broken, and will need a rod to replace his femur. As for the spine, I’ve had to call in a consultant for that. With all the swelling there is no way to rule out spinal injuries.”

“What are you going to do for now?”

Jenson grimaced. “He’s in ICU at the moment. Unconscious. His brain activity is slow at best. The next twenty-four to forty-eight hours are going to be difficult. I don’t know if there is any brain damage, or what other effects he could have sustained from the severity of the brain bleed that caused all of the pressure.” He reached for my hands and gave them a comforting squeeze before stepping back. “I’ll keep you posted, Dallas. Someone will come out and let you know when he’s settled in ICU and you can visit him for a few minutes. Maybe hearing a familiar voice will help.”

All I could do was nod and he turned for the door. When it was closed behind him, I fell down in the chair next to Natalie once more. She had been listening intently to the whole conversation. We continued to sit there. Quiet. Anxious. Praying.

Axton

The party was still going strong. There was booze flowing freely. Chicks running around in various stages of nakedness. The music was kickass. Everyone was having a rockin’ time even though the ball had dropped over an hour ago. This was my party. I had set it up on the spur of the moment. Made a few phone calls and let nature take over from there. My neighbors were either in attendance or out at their own New Year’s parties because I hadn’t received any complaints.

The only problem?

I was bored. Out. Of. My. Fucking. Mind.

To me the booze tasted like ass. The music was giving me a raging headache. And the chicks? I had hot chicks trying to stick their tongues down my throat—or in other places—but I couldn’t find the enthusiasm to take them up on the offers. Nothing held an appeal. The world seemed fuzzy and colorless.

It was all Dallas’s fault.

She had wormed her way in too deep. Wrapped my heart in roots with her name tattooed on them. Now I couldn’t even get hard for another woman. Couldn’t do jack shit because she wanted nothing to do with me.

Not for the first time, my phone vibrated and I barely glanced down at it to check the caller ID. Emmie. Again. I grimaced and hit the ignore button even though every fiber inside of me was screaming to answer her call. It went against nature not to jump on my phone the instant that little redhead’s name and picture popped up on my cell. My gut clenched. My heart felt speared through.

I was being a dick for not answering. I’d been nothing but a dick for the last several weeks. It wasn’t Emmie’s fault I couldn’t get my life figured out right now. If anything she was probably the only one still on my side. Fuck. She was the only one who had ever been on my side—the only person who had ever cared about me unconditionally.

For the longest time I had been blind to my true feelings about Emmie. Had thought for sure that I was in love with that girl. I might still be thinking along those lines if it hadn’t been for Dallas… The phone stopped vibrating and I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d been seconds away from actually answering this time.

People came up to sit beside me where I was camped out on my couch. I didn’t pay them any attention. Ignored anything they tried to say to me. Didn’t they understand that I didn’t care if they drank all my booze, trashed my apartment, or even stole my shit when they left? All I wanted was to be left alone.

How long I just sat there staring off into space, ignoring my phone, I wasn’t sure. When someone’s hand smacked across my face in an all-too-familiar sting I blinked and glared up at the little Italian goddess standing over me. “What the fuck, Gabriella?”

The tears are what caught me off guard. I got to my feet quickly, never able to stand the sight of her tears. Damn it. I might not be in love with her, but I’d tried to fall for her. Tried so fucking hard that I had even inked her name into my skin to help lie to myself a little better. “What is it?” I demanded. Gabriella Moreitti was not a crier for just any reason. If she was this upset then something was definitely wrong. “Jordan?”

She shook her head, the tears falling harder. “Liam. It’s all over the news. He was in an accident tonight. Drunk driver. It’s all kinds of confusing. Some are saying it’s his fault, others are saying he was completely sober. But they are all saying he is in critical condition.” She grabbed my arms, hard. “No one will fucking tell me anything, Ax. And I can’t get past the fucking guards at the hospital. They won’t let me near him. Please. Please, Ax. Help me. I need to see him. To talk to him.” A sob raked her body and she buried her face in my chest. “I never should have broken up with him.”

Guilt washed over me and I felt my own eyes start to sting. Liam. No wonder Emmie hadn’t given up calling me. I was the only one even in New York at the moment, so of course she would want me at the hospital with my bandmate. Cursing, I grasped her hand and pulled her out of the apartment.

A car was already waiting for us. Gabriella’s grandfather’s driver hit the gas as soon as we were inside. She was still crying so I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lifted my phone to my ear to listen to Emmie’s many voice mails. I was such a douchebag. Fucking, fuck. I sucked at being a friend and band member.

OtherWorld was nothing like Demon’s Wings. We were friends, sure. Some of us more than others. Devlin and Zander? They had grown up on the bad side of town, and only had each other to rely on. Wroth and Liam? Their blood bond made them tight, even if Wroth seemed to hate his cousin at times. I was the outcast—the rich boy who they had only put up with in the beginning because they had needed me to replace their vocalist.