Damned Royalty

Chapter 21

Anxiety coursed through your veins as you rushed through the hospital halls. Jimin had turned down another hall just a moment ago, in search of his father while you kept on your path trying to find yours.

306, 306, you kept chanting to yourself while you searched for his room, until finally, you saw the number 308 and you knew you were there. The door was closed, but you burst through it, not yet prepared for what you might see.

And there he was... your father... sitting upright on the hospital bed, still in his suit, a small gash over his left eye while he talked casually to your mother who stood beside him. He was... fine.

"Dad," you cried out in terror regardless. "Are you alright?" you rushed forward, swinging your arms around his neck.

"I'm fine, sweetie. They barely touched me."

"What happened?" you looked back and forth between him and your mother.

"I don't know. Stanford and I were in the back of the car when a truck hit us."

"I thought you were attacked?"

"We were. People got out of the truck, approached us with guns and began firing."

"You didn't get hit?" your eyes began searching him for a sign of another injury – but you found none.

"No. Thankfully. Just a bump on the head from the window I think," he touched near the gash above his forehead. "I was lucky to be wearing my seatbelt. Stanford, however..." he trailed off.

"How is he?" your voice raised in concern.

"We don't know," he said. "But it wasn't good."

"It had to have been the cartel. Right? I mean no one is coming after you, right, Dad?"

"No. Of course not," he sounded offended at the mere suggestion. "This is what the world looks like when you're a thug. This is what your world will look like, Y/N, if you keep seeing that boy."

You rolled your eyes – you couldn't stop yourself. Even sitting in the middle of a hospital, your father still found the time to lecture you.

"When are they releasing you?" you asked, changing the subject.

"They're just going to run some tests first," said your mother. "A scan to be sure there isn't any bleeding and then they'll make sure he doesn't have a concussion or something. If all goes well we'll be heading home soon."

"You'll be coming home tonight, right?" your father then pressed you and you felt an instant sense of guilt. Despite the scare, your father was fine and well – but you weren't so sure about Jimin's. He might need you with him, and you wanted to be with him. But on the other hand, you could understand why your parents wanted you safe at home with them.

"I... uh... yes. I mean... I'll of course come by," you fumbled your words. Luckily for you, a pair of nurses walked into the room – ready to take your father for his scan - and you were saved from having to complete this awkward conversation. When he was in his wheelchair and rolled out of the room, you took it as the opportune time to slip out into the hall and go searching for Jimin and Stanford.

Stepping into that hospital room was a much different story. Stanford was unconscious, in a hospital gown, covered in bloodied bandages and tied up to several tubes of fluid and oxygen. Jimin was seated at his side, his elbows on his knees and his forehead pressed against balled up fists.

"How is he?" you asked softly as you placed your hand gently on Jimin's shoulder. He immediately reached up, lacing his fingers through yours and squeezing your hand tight.