Chapter 35 Caleb #2
I turned to the cop. “If she needs a lawyer, we’ll send ours. But she didn’t do this.”
Hazel’s eyes shimmered with gratitude, and I squeezed her hand. “Did they take Emma to General?”
The cop nodded, and I looked at Tucker.
“I’ll keep the dogs and secure the scene after everyone’s gone,” he assured me. “Ryder’s on his way. He’s got Hank. Go. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”
I ran to my truck, kicking my own ass as I did.
The thought of Emma being hurt made it feel like ice was flowing through my veins instead of blood.
I got to the ER at the same time as Ryder, Hank in tow.
“How is she?” Ryder asked.
“Don’t know yet.” Which was killing me slowly.
Hank…fucking Hank of all people, put a steadying hand on my shoulder, making me realize I was a mess. Emma’s blood was all over me. But he looked right into my eyes and managed to say “ah” in a tone that expressed something I’d never heard directed my way before from him.
Worry. Empathy.
Obviously, the man couldn’t speak, and who the hell knew what he’d say if he even could. I couldn’t control that any more than I could control keeping Emma safe.
I will keep you safe and fed, but we are not friends, you get me?
My long-ago harsh words to him rang in my ears as we stared at each other.
A few months ago, I’d have flung his hand off me or, worse, flinched at his touch.
But that was due to the memory of a man who no longer existed.
The person I was looking at would never be that guy again.
And I couldn’t live with the age-old anger.
Life was too fucking short. I couldn’t live letting it all fester in my gut.
Shutting down my heart to keep it safe had never worked.
To be the man I wanted to be—for Emma, for my family, for me—I had to tear down the brick wall around my heart.
So I put one of my hands on top of Hank’s and nodded my understanding. Something flickered in his eyes—simple joy maybe? I managed a smile and moved to the nurse’s station to ask about Emma.
“You family?” a nurse asked.
I lied so easily that I scared myself. “Husband.”
She eyed me, then Ryder behind me, then Hank.
“Ah,” Hank said.
The nurse turned back to me. “She didn’t say anything about a husband, much less that husband being a famous hockey star named Caleb Colburn.”
“Former hockey star.” I smiled grimly. “And she’s mad at me.”
She remained unimpressed. “You the one who clocked her?”
“No, ma’am, that was a stucco wall, and I wasn’t there.”
She stared at me.
I stared back, then softened my posture. “Please,” I said quietly. “I need to see her.”
Tucker came through the double doors and flashed a smile at the nurse. “Hey, Shel. My brother giving you a hard time?”
“As a Colburn does.”
Tucker grinned. “I beat you one time at family poker night at the station.”
“And you won’t beat me again.” She pointed at him. “Lenny said I had his permission to wipe the rug with you next time. Now, let me guess—you’re calling in a favor for your brother, who tried to lie his way in here.”
“Is it a lie, or is he just manifesting?” Tucker asked.
I took in the words and blinked. Oh shit.
He was right. I wanted it to be true. Knees shaky, I dropped into one of those stupid metal waiting chairs that guaranteed a numb ass in two minutes or less.
Emma was it for me. The end. Period. She understood me like no one else, and she made me want to be a better person. “Fuck. I love her.”
Shel smiled. “You should see the look on your face right now.”
Tucker crossed his arms over his chest, not an ounce of surprise in them. “And?” he asked me.
I let out a mirthless laugh and dropped my head back, knocking it against the wall. “I think she loves me too. At least, I think she did before tonight.”
Tucker turned back to Shel and lowered his voice. “Listen, obviously, he’s a hot mess. I’d consider it a personal favor if you let him go back there.”
“Is he good enough for her?” Shel said. “’Cause all that girl’s done since arriving here tonight is worry about all of you. She’s special.”
“She is,” Tucker agreed.
Shel gave me a long look.
“She’s the best thing to ever happen to me,” I said.
She studied me for a long beat. Looked around, and when no one was paying any mind, she held up eight fingers.
“Bay eight,” Tucker murmured to me under his breath. “Let’s go.”
We left Ryder in the waiting room with Hank, and five minutes and a long, windy walk down several corridors later, Tucker pulled back a curtain to reveal…an empty bed.
My heart stopped.
“She’s getting a CT scan,” a harried-looking nurse said. “She’ll be back soon.”
I let out a slow breath. We sat, me in the lone chair in the room, Tucker on the doctor’s stool.
“Hazel?” I asked.
“Bill showed up at the site and went with her to the station.”
“She isn’t our bad guy,” I said.
Tucker’s eyes were tight. “Never thought she was.”
“No, I mean we have actual proof it’s not her. Ryder texted me the surveillance footage from tonight. It was a male, taller and beefier than her.”
Tucker nodded. “The cops said they wouldn’t keep her, that she wasn’t being charged, just questioned on what she saw and how Emma got hurt.”
“You ever going to tell me why you two aren’t speaking?”
“No.”
I opened my mouth to prod for more, but Kiera strode in, kicked my feet until I stood up, then plopped in my chair. “Sitrep.”
She wasn’t the daughter of a military man for nothing.
“Well, for one thing, Caleb’s one bad decision away from needing a life coach,” Tucker said.
Kiera snorted. “My name’s Kiera Colburn, and I approve this message.”
I glared at her. “How did you get back here?”
“Shel.”
“And the kids?”
“Sitting with Penny, Ryder, and Hank.”
Tucker’s head swiveled to her. “And Hazel?”
Kiera’s brow rose at the question, but she nodded. “She was released. I don’t know where she is now. Also, I don’t have much time. Like a rookie, Ryder fed the twins sugar from the vending machine, so they’re probably bouncing off the walls.”
“Why’s everyone here?” I asked.
“Because even though you’re stupid, we love you.”
She pulled a soda from her bag and had just taken a sip when a different nurse poked her head in and looked at me. “You’re the husband, right?”
Kiera choked on the soda while I nodded so quickly, my head spun. “Yes.”
Kiera choked some more, and Tucker patted her on the back, but given the sound Kiera made, it was more of a pounding than a pat.
“The radiologist said she’s got a mild cerebral contusion,” the nurse said. “Grade-one concussion. She needs stitches but then will most likely be released if she’s got someone to watch over her.”
“She does,” I said firmly.
Then Emma was rolled into the cubicle. She’d been changed into a hospital gown, and there was still blood in her hair and on her face. Her eyes were closed, her face pale, and my heart rolled over in my chest.
“I’m fine,” she whispered without opening her eyes.
Leaning over her, I brushed her hair back from her face and pressed a kiss to her uninjured temple. She still didn’t look at me, but she squeezed my fingers and held on tight, the helpless weight of regret and my own fears sitting like an elephant on my chest.
“I want a toothbrush,” Emma said so softly, I barely heard. She cracked open one eye. “I have throw-up breath.”
I didn’t dare smile but turned to my family. Kiera stood up, nodded at me, then left.
“Toothbrush coming right up,” I said.
I didn’t know how she did it. I’d long ago given up questioning Kiera’s unflagging determination, but no more than four minutes later, she was back with a small plastic-wrapped toothbrush and tiny sample toothpaste.
Eyes barely slitted open and full of pain, Emma brushed her teeth, and as I turned in a circle, looking for something for her to spit in, she swallowed the tiny dab of toothpaste I’d given her and lay back again, pasty white and still.
“I can hear you thinking too hard from here,” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s freaking out that you got hurt,” Tucker said.
“Yes,” I said. “Join me, won’t you?”
“Sit.” Tucker kicked the stool Kiera had abandoned over to me. “Calm down.”
“I’m not a Taylor Swift song. And you calm down. I’ve never been calmer in my life.” Okay, so I wasn’t handling this well. Taking the stool, I stroked the hair back from Emma’s face again just for the excuse to touch her. “You’re going to be okay.”
“I know.”
“You’ve got a mild concussion and need a few stitches.”
“All I need’s a Band-Aid. I can’t imagine what they charge for even just a Band-Aid.”
She was most definitely not paying the bill.
I reached for her hand, and her eyes finally opened. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Oh, he’s visiting his wife,” Tucker said jauntily. “And blaming himself for what happened to you tonight.”
I gave Tucker a look that promised I’d be kicking his ass as soon as possible. “I am at fault,” I said.
“I left the truck of my own volition.”
I looked at my siblings, silently ordering them out of the room.
Nobody moved. Assholes. Leaning in, I brought our entwined hands to my chest and met her half-mast gaze, hating the pain I saw in those beautiful green eyes.
I spoke as softly as I could, for her ears only.
“Why did you leave the truck after I’d asked you to stay? ”
“You didn’t ask. You ordered.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty bossy,” Kiera said helpfully.
I slid her a look, and she must’ve felt bad because she sighed. “He doesn’t mean to be an ass though. He’s just used to being a bossy know-it-all protector. He was trying to keep you safe.”
“I was,” I said. “But I was wrong—”
The doctor strode in, followed by the nurse, who eyed the group. “Everyone out,” she said.
I held on to Emma’s hand. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“They can stay,” Emma said.
They. Not a good sign that she lumped me in with everyone else, but I’d take it.
The nurse looked annoyed, but the doctor smiled at the bunch of us. “Love to see a good support system.”
And then he got to work, first carefully cleaning Emma’s wound, then pulling out his equipment.
I leaned in and held Emma’s gaze so she wouldn’t look at the big-ass needle the doctor wielded.
As he numbed her up, he moved the needle around, making her hiss through her teeth and me have to work at not ripping that needle out of her head.
“You must’ve hit just right for maximum damage,” the doctor murmured, making little sounds of sympathy every time Emma sucked in a pain-filled gulp of air. She had a grip on my hand so tight, I’d be lucky to have any fingers left. I didn’t care; she could have them.
When he finished stitching her up, he smiled. “Scar should be minimal. My nurse will give you instructions on how to care for the wound.”
And then he was gone.
I took a shuddering breath, feeling all the energy drain out of me, replaced by a sick dread in the pit of my stomach, knowing what would come next.
Me getting kicked out on my ass. I turned to Emma.
“About earlier tonight. I—” Shit. I’d forgotten what I was saying when the doctor had come in earlier.
“You were saying you were wrong,” Kiera said helpfully.
I bared my teeth at her, then drew a breath.
“It’s okay,” Emma said. Her voice was soft and careful, like every word hurt. That, along with the blood drying in her hair, made me feel murderous.
“It’s not,” I said. “Kiera’s right, I was wrong.”
“You mean when you told me we were a team, but at the first opportunity, you benched me?”
“Nice sports analogy,” Tucker said.
Emma gave him a weak curve of her lips.
I drew a deep breath. “I did that, and I’m sorry. I care about you and your safety, but if I could redo it, I’d ask you to wait, and when you refused, because let’s face it, you would”—I paused when she snorted—“I’d then take you with me because I’d know it would be the safest place for you.”
“Because you care about me.”
“Yes,” I said in an unequivocal tone, leaving no room for doubt. “Deeply, Emma. So much, it makes me feel overprotective. I’ll work on that.”
“Wow,” Tucker murmured. “Never heard that come out his mouth before.”
“Hell must’ve frozen over,” Kiera said.
Over Emma’s head I flipped them both off.
The nurse stuck her head back in and caught me at it. “Do I need to eject every single one of you?”
“No, ma’am,” I said.
Tucker and Kiera mimed zipping their lips.
Nurse Hatchet glared at me.
I mimed zipping my lips, too, and I was pretty sure Emma’s mouth quirked slightly with amusement. I nearly collapsed with relief to see it.
I slid my hand back in hers, silently vowing to make her smile for the rest of her life.