Chapter 8
Tessa
It’s not until I see Clem waiting outside the hospital entrance, when I turn into the parking lot, that I disconnect.
His steady voice kept me grounded all the way here, otherwise I might well have lost it.
So when he walks up as I get out of the Jeep, throwing myself in his arms feels like the most natural thing to do. Every emotion I painfully tamped down on the way here abruptly escapes in a giant sob, so forcefully, it makes my knees buckle.
“Easy,” he rumbles by my ear as his strong arms hold me steady.
It would be so tempting to simply stay like this, letting someone else take the weight for a while, but I only allow myself a brief moment of indulgence. Then I disengage myself, wipe under my eyes, and straighten my shoulders.
“I want to see him.”
Clem’s response is to open the door for me.
I make a beeline for the desk on the far side of the lobby, when I spot Dana Kerrigan heading toward me. She’s the nurse practitioner who examined me for my medical clearance when I joined the Edwards County Sheriff’s Department.
“He’s awake and talking,” is the first thing she says to me.
A flood of relief threatens to buckle my knees again, when I feel Clem’s steadying hand at the small of my back.
“Good.” I take in a few deep breaths through my nose and blow them out my mouth.
“He was pretty badly beaten though,” she cautiously continues.
“He’s got pretty extensive bruising on his face and upper body, as well as a nasty cut on the back of his head.
He was also barely conscious when he was brought in, so we’re taking him for a CT scan to see if there is any internal bleeding.
That’s our main concern right now. He likely has some bruised or cracked ribs, and I’m pretty sure he’ll, at the very least, have a concussion, but we’d like to make sure nothing else is going on we can’t see on the outside.
Either way, I would be prepared for him to be here for a few days. ”
I nod, grateful for the information. Not knowing is worse for me.
“Can I see him?”
Dana touches my arm, giving it a little squeeze.
“Like I said, he’s in radiology now, but I’ll keep my eye out and will come get you when he’s brought back down here. He’ll need a few stitches for that cut.”
“Thank you.” I force a smile, which she kindly returns.
“You bet, and once we’ve got a better idea what is going on with Remi, I’m sure Dr. Sharma will want to come out to speak with you.”
When she’s gone, Clem takes my arm and guides me to a waiting area.
“Sit,” he prompts.
Normally, I’d probably tell him to go to hell for ordering me around, but at the moment I’m almost grateful for the direction. He takes a seat next to me.
For a few minutes we just sit like that, side by side, not talking, but still I find comfort in his presence. My mind drifts, and instinctively I start sifting through any information I have on what happened.
“What made you go out in the alley?” I abruptly ask Clem. “Did you hear something?”
“No. We’d just come back from the junkyard in Kettle Falls. Remi left on his bike and I went inside to clean up. I left right after for some dinner and my standing Thursday night poker game at The Kerrigan. I was turning down the alley to get to Main Street when I saw him.”
He leans forward, elbows on his knees as he briefly rubs his face in his hands.
“I was afraid waiting for an ambulance would take too long. He was out cold and it scared me, so I loaded him in my truck to get him to medical care faster. In hindsight, I realize it was probably not the smartest move. I could’ve made it worse.”
I hear the guilt in his voice and put my hand on his shoulder.
“I would’ve done exactly the same thing and am beyond grateful to you looking after him.”
He turns his head away and grumbles something indistinguishable.
From the side, I take a moment to study him. From this angle I see the gray hair buzzed close to his scalp shows a balding spot at his crown. Good for him for embracing it rather than trying to grow his hair longer in an attempt to hide it. It never translates well.
A little coarse around the edges, Clem is an attractive man with strong features, who looks his age.
I guess we have that in common. He’s not particularly tall or lean, but rather has a stocky body that, honestly, I find more appealing.
I’m sure it has, in no small measure, to do with the fact I’m not exactly a waif myself.
I always was what my grandmother called big-boned, but after I had Remi, my body never quite returned to its pre-pregnancy weight.
I didn’t care that much, but my tall, dark, and lean ex minded.
He told me so plenty of times, sometimes with his fists.
I often think I kept the weight on just to spite him, because once he was out of my life, I started dropping pounds.
Now I’m back to simply being big-boned, but I’ve lost my appetite for tall, dark, and lean.
Clem’s clear gray eyes, light skin, and husky build is far more enticing.
Holy hell, where did that train of thought come from?
I can’t believe I’m sitting here, letting my mind even go in that direction, while waiting to hear if my child is going to be all right.
Instantaneously I retrieve my hand, which was still resting on his shoulder, and surge to my feet.
“You don’t have to stay.”
He turns his head to look up at me, his gray eyes questioning.
“You want me to go?”
No. Not really.
I definitely don’t want to insult him by sending him packing.
“Didn’t you say you were on your way to grab dinner?” I remind him.
“Food is the furthest thing from my mind right now,” he informs me as he stands up as well, facing me. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’ll hang around until we hear your son is going to be okay.”
There’s a challenge in the way he looks at me, and I find myself nodding. “Yes, of course.”
“Good. Now, what I could use is a cup of coffee. Would you like one? I believe the hospital cafeteria is open until ten. I can go grab us some,” he offers.
“Coffee would be good, if you don’t mind.”
I’m not sure how much of it I’ll drink, but I welcome a break in the somewhat unsettling tension between us.
Maybe tension isn’t the right term for it, but I’m not sure how else to describe it.
I’m not sure of anything I’m feeling at the moment, too much is happening at once, but I only have one priority right now, and that is my son.
Oh shit, I should probably call Linc. Or should I wait until I know something more? The last thing I want is for him to drive when he’s upset. I know the moment I call him; he’ll be on his way.
I’m still struggling with my dilemma when Clem returns, a tray with two cups and a pair of white paper bags in his hand. He hands me one of the cups and one of the bags.
“I forgot to ask how you take your coffee, so you’ll have to doctor it up yourself.”
I find a few creamers, a collection of sugars and sweeteners, and a stir stick.
“In the morning, I don’t want anything diluting my coffee,” I share as I add a couple of the creamers and one sugar to my cup. “I need the full force, but if I have coffee in the afternoon or at night, I prefer it a little mellower with cream and sugar. I drink too much as it is.”
“I hear you. I used to be like that but have cut down to one or two a day,” he contributes. “I’m a cream and sugar guy myself.”
He sits back down but one chair away, and sets the second, larger bag on the seat between us.
“Turns out I’m a little peckish after all,” he admits, fishing a muffin from the bag. “Brought one for you too, in case you haven’t eaten either.”
“Not sure I could, but thank you.”
Clem
“We’re going to keep an eye on him for a day or two to make sure, but I expect him to make a full recovery.”
“Thank God,” Tessa mutters in a soft voice.
I don’t say anything, but I share her relief. The kid was lucky, it could’ve been a lot worse than a concussion, some stitches, and a couple of bruised ribs.
“One more thing,” Dr. Sharma adds. “Your son claims he fell off his bike, but his injuries aren’t consistent with a fall.
It’s consistent with a severe beating. I’m pretty sure he was kicked in the ribs, one of those contusions looks like the imprint of a boot.
I had one of the nurses take pictures, just in case. ”
Like hell he fell.
The condition of his face made that obvious, and aside from that, his bike was at least ten feet from where I found him. A fall is bullshit.
Why the hell would the boy lie about that?
“I appreciate that,” I hear Tessa say. “Can I see him?”
“Dana is just finishing up his stitches, and as soon as she’s done, she’ll get him settled into a room so you can sit with him. I’ll be back in the morning to check on him.”
Tessa politely thanks him again, but as soon as he turns his back, she wobbles on her feet and sags into me. The moment I turn and wrap my arms around her, she shoves her face in my neck and her whole body begins to shake.
“He’s gonna be okay,” I mumble in her hair.
I feel her nod against me.
This is not the moment to notice, but I really fucking like holding this woman. Her soft body feels fantastic in my arms. It’s been a while since I had such a strong physical reaction to a woman.
“Have a seat,” I suggest, quickly releasing her before she notices.
“I should probably give Linc a call.”
“Linc?”
“Remi’s brother,” she clarifies. “I didn’t want to alarm him until I had some information.”
“Understandable.”
“But he’s still going to be upset and will want to come.”
Not a surprise. I’m the older sibling, and as much as my younger brother, Chance, is a fuckup, my instinct is still to look out for him.
“If that’s what he wants, let him,” I suggest. “He probably wants to see Remi with his own eyes.”
“I’m just worried about him driving.”
“Call him,” I prompt her, getting to my feet. “I can go get him.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she protests.
I point at the phone in her hand. “Call him.”