Nick quietly groaned as he slowly opened his eyes to the bright light of the hospital room. A few nurses were in the room and smiled lightly as he awoke. He remembered everything, the deal gone bad, the bullet, the piercing pain, and those blue eyes.

"Ah, he's awake," an older nurse with a flower print scrub top and purple scrub pants smiled, some of her gray hair had escaped her pony tail and had shaped around her tan skin. Her eyes were kind and her smile was pure.

"How long was I out," Nick asked, his voice stale and raspy. His throat hurt, he desperately needed some water. As if she'd read his mind, the nurse handed him a plastic cup filled with cool water. He smiled lightly and took a few sips. He was so sore and the bandaged wrapped around his midsection irritated his skin.

"How long was I out for?"

"Three days. You're lucky you survived. Do you remember what happened?"

Nick shook his head innocently, "nothing. I just remember takin a walk for a bit after leaving my hotel." He slowly turned his stiff neck in search of his phone, "I need to call someone."

"Sure, but first, I have a few questions. What's your name?"

He contemplated what to do in this situation. Should he give her his real name? If he did, enemies could call in search of him and string the information out of the receptionist somehow, or Devlin could call and find him, he just wanted to be with his family right now. He didn't want any gang confrontations at the moment. Then, another thought came to his mind. Doctors and police usually checked the person's coat and pockets for a phone or wallet, anything to characterize the victim, but they didn't know what his name was? His wallet and phone must've been stolen then. Great, he sighed.

"Nate. Nathan Grey." He'd gone by that name before, made sure it was in the system and flew with it. He and Joe both agreed that it'd be safer if he had a pseudonym he could use in case of an emergency. Now, seemed like a pretty important time to put it to use.

The nurse wrote it down, "age?"

"23."

She wrote that down too. "Residential city?"

"Los Angeles. Listen, can I please make a call now? I really need to make a call."

The nurse motioned to the odd hospital phone beside him. Picking it up, he dialed the number he knew from heart. Miley's.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

His pulse quickened, she needed to answer, the longer he waited, the more alert he became, the more he felt the pain he was in. Wanting to ignore it, he focused on the call. Please, he begged inside his head, pick up. The nurse left to go fetch the doctor and let "Nate" have his privacy.

"Hello," a tattered voice answered. He winced, he was the one who'd been shot. Not Miley. So why did her voice sound like she was in more pain than he was? The sound of sniffling was heard on the other line, making him wince again, she'd been crying. "Hello," she asked again.

He just listened to her, he tired to speak, but he couldn't. His heart ripped, he'd done this, he made her like this. She was crying because of him, because she was scared something terrible had happened to him, she was scared she wasn't ever going to hear from him again, terrified at the thought that he was dead. Nick had promised to call her twice a day; once in the morning, once at night. That meant he'd kissed six calls. Miley had already been edge about him going to Chicago. She would've been stressed out if he's missed one call, because he'd promised her he'd call, and he wouldn't break that promise to her. Now she was crying and he couldn't hold her and tell her everything was going to he okay.

"Anyone there?"

He took a breath and sighed aloud, "Mi."

Miley's body flooded with relief, it was him. He'd called. She'd been clutching her phone for the past 72 hours. Every time it had vibrated, she told herself it was Nick, until she picked up or read the text and re been mostly Joe or Demi, ranting about how the other one was getting on their last nerve. Couldn't they see she didn't care about their relationship or not so relationship at the time? The only thing she cared about, the only thing she wanted was just a sign that Nick was still alive. Her tears streamed down her face faster as she let out a sob.

"Nick. Oh, Nick, I was so worried. I thought something terrible had happened to you. I thought you were dead."

Then, she wiped her tears and put her hand on her hip and stood up straight, her blood boiling. He was alive. He was alive and hadnt called. What? Did he just "forget" for three days that he'd promised to call and was calling now to apologize? And what was this strange number he was calling from? One of his so-called "friends" (A.K.A. sluts who'd do anything he wanted them to)? Had he found another girl in Chicago and called to say he wasn't coming home?

"NICHOLAS. WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN," she screamed, "I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF IS 'MI'?! SERIOUSLY? YOU'RE LUCKY WE ARE IN DIFFERENT PLACES BECAUSE IF I WAS HEAR YOU RIGHT NOW, I'D CHOP YOUR HEAD OFF!"

Nick wondered what head she was talking about and laughed lightly at her bipolar attitude. It hurt him to laugh so he stopped and tried to figure out where to start.

"I've been unconscious for the past three days, Miles. I promised you I'd call everyday, twice a day, if I was okay. I was shot and am at the hospital," he explained calmly.

She froze. He'd been shot? He told her that everything was going to be just fine and he'd be back in a few weeks after his operation was finished...in what world was Nick getting shot "just fine"? Miley's jaw hardened as her anger rose, "who shot you?"

"One of the guys we were conducting business with. Things didn't go as planned, they didn't have all the money we needed and then all hell broke loose. Can you come? With Joe and Demi?"

She sighed. All she wanted to do was hop on a plane that very second and run into his arms, but her boyfriend had been shot. Her boyfriend had been shot. People who knew Miley knew that she could be vulnerable, that she was vulnerable, but if someone messed with something or someone that was important to Miley, they better hide because she'd eat them alive. She knew that she needed to harden up. Throw her weaknesses out the window, tie her feelings into fire wood and toss it into the wood stove. She was going to make people pay. The thought made her internally laugh a bit, this wasn't anything she'd dealt with before. Pretty prats who fucked with her siblings wasn't what she was dealing with anymore. Now, it was gang bangers. She was Miley, 120 pounds, and not in any shape to go into a battle in the big time leagues of gangs. She knew that there was no way she could take the entire N42 down. All she needed to do was get Nick out of the N42, she was cleaver, she'd come up with something. Right now though, she needed to go see Nick, he at his bedside, and get useful information.

"We'lll be there as soon as I can, okay? We'll take the next flight out."

"Nate Grey. My name is Nate Grey."

She nodded, "okay. I'll see you in a few hours. I love you."

"I love you too," he whispered before hanging up.

The nurse walked back into the room with the doctor who started to run some tests and examine Nick's wounds. Nick looked at the nurse.

"My girlfriend is flying here. She'll be here in a few hours."

"Okay. Name?"

He gulped, shit. The N42, Devlin, especially, knew that Miley was his weakness. He'd be checking every place in Chicago for him, which mean he'd check every place for Joe, Demi, and Miley as well.

"Brook Maddison," he said, spitting out the first thing he could think of.

The nurse jotted the name down on his records and helped the doctor fun some more tests. Once they were done, the doctor, a sophisticated man who looked to be in his late fifties looked down at him.

"You are very lucky, Mr. Grey, not many people would've survived that gun shot wound, it hit a few inches away from some vital organs. And considering the fact that the police were notified about you hours after the incident, you would've bled out and died right on that pavement."

Nick nodded, "thank you, doctor."

Five hours later, the nurse came in with "Brooke" a mess of a college girl who had been scared to death that her lover was t going to make it. She ran over to him and cupped her cheeks. She crushed their lips together and kissed him softly, a tear falling down her cheek. She hated it. She wanted to be strong for him and she would be, but this was Nick.

"You had me so worried," she cried out a few moments after they had pulled away, "don't ever do that to he again, Nicholas Jerry. Understand?"

"Sorry," he chucked, "wasn't exactly my idea to get shot, you know."

"Oh, I know." Miley looked around the room and after seeing that the nurse was gone, she looked at him with a stoney gaze, "I'm going to kill them. Joe and Demi are here. At the hotel. We're going to take them down."

"Miles, I love you, but-"

"No. They hurt you. Joe's trying to hack into their systems as we speak. Thank God your brother is a genius, though I hope he and Demi aren't killing each other," she laughed.

A/N: I apologize for the lateness. I know I was leaving you all hanging on the edge of a cliff. There's really no excuse for it. I just haven't been in the mood to write I guess. And I wrote this chapter before and I didn't like the way it turned out. Happy Christmas! Well. Soon. :) Thanks for reading! Enjoy the holidays!

Peace. Love. Niley.

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