Chapter Eighteen Goldie #2
My phone sits idle in my hand as I stare at her profile, making her squirm. “But at his restaurant? You were that curious about his meat-touching skills, huh?”
Her head whips to mine with a scowl on her face. “It was a group of us. He didn’t even know I was there. I wanted Indian, but they wanted Chase . . . I mean, his food. You know what I’m saying. Shut up with that look.”
I just keep smiling before I shake my head, typing back to Noah.
Me: I’m turning into a pumpkin in about an hour. Call me? I have potential hot goss about your bestie and mine.
The bubbles come up and then go away, but no message populates. I frown.
“And another thing,” my sister snaps, grabbing my attention. “People can be repulsive in real life and be really good at their jobs. That’s common sense, Goldie.”
“Okay.” I fall sideways still sitting crisscross on the couch as she shoves my shoulder, making me laugh. “I’m not restaurant shaming you. I’m just surprised you didn’t tell me.”
“Why? Look at how you’re acting,” she bellows, clearly embarrassed, which makes me laugh harder. Thou doth protest too much.
“How am I acting? I’m literally saying nothing. I just think you don’t want to admit you may like one thing about him . . .”
She picks up a pillow and hits me with it as I squeal. Tears start to blur my vision because I’m laughing so hard. Until I hear Noah’s ringtone.
“Hold on,” I rush out, putting a hand up to stop the onslaught of abuse when I see “Damon” scrolling across my phone screen.
“Hey,” I answer, partly breathless, still amused by her protests as she sticks her tongue out at me.
But the way he says my name makes my body turn cold. I shoot to my feet, eyes searching but landing on nothing in front of me. “Noah, what’s wrong?”
“Baby . . .” Noah inhales deeply. He’s stammering, breathless, like he’s having a panic attack. My heart stops in my chest as Evie touches my arm.
“Noah, what’s happening? Are you okay?”
The moment he gets his voice back, he’s speaking a mile a minute. My hand shoots over my mouth as my eyes instantly glisten. “Oh my god. Noah, slow down.”
I turn toward my sister, then away, not knowing what to do with myself as I try and make sense of what he’s saying, answering back in broken sentences.
“How?” . . . “Okay.” . . . “Okay.” . . . “I will.”
My feet start moving, hands shaking as much as my voice as I run into my bedroom with my sister on my heels. “I’m leaving right now. Noah, I’m on my way. It’s gonna be okay. I love you.”
Evie’s standing in the doorway, her face fixed on me. “What the fuck just happened? What did he say?”
My teary eyes meet hers as I shove my feet into shoes and look around for my wallet.
“It’s Chase . . . Evie, he’s at Mass General.” Her eyes grow owllike. “It was a hit-and-run.” My voice breaks at the end as she rushes toward me.
“I’m coming with you,” she says, wrapping me in a hug. I nod, still hearing the fear in Noah’s voice, breaking me.
“I’m taking the first flight. I don’t know when I can get there, but he can’t be alone .
. . Golds, Chase got hit on my bike . . .
This is my fault.” His voice breaks, and I know he’s trying not to cry.
“My mom died alone. I wasn’t there . . .
Killer, you two are the only family I have left.
This can’t happen again. Please, please. ”
“Let me get the keys. I’ll drive,” Evie rushes out, our hug momentary because we dash from the apartment, still in our pajamas, with sneakers on our feet and fear on our faces.
Chase can’t die. He just can’t. Noah’s lost too much in life already.
We race to the car, out of breath and everything a blur.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I whisper as we pull into traffic.
“Noah sounded so afraid, and I don’t know what to do.
He said Chase’s family is in Europe but that he’s the emergency contact, so he has to call and tell them.
Jesus, apparently Chase is in surgery right now.
I don’t know how we’re gonna get information.
” Tears stream down my face. “What if Noah loses him? They’re like brothers. ”
“Listen to me,” she barks, stopping hard at a red light and staring into my eyes.
“We’re not thinking like that. We’re fucking manifesting.
Chase doesn’t die today.” I’m nodding back at her, my chin quivering.
“He’s the goddamn father of my fish . . .
And none of us will ever eat again if he leaves.
So, he’s living. And don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way to get us back there to him. ”
I take a deep breath to stop my tears and face forward as her tires screech, hauling ass again.
“You’re right,” I whisper to myself. “Chase Beckett, you aren’t going anywhere. My future husband needs a best man, and I need a cool uncle for my future babies.”
“God, what is taking so long?” my sister huffs as she looks over at the glass door of the visitors’ room for the millionth time.
I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I don’t know. I just wish they’d give us more information.”
We’ve been at the hospital for hours, and outside of knowing that Chase is still in surgery, we haven’t been told anything new. Still, thank god my sister has a flair for a good lie because the only reason we know what we do is because of how convincingly she claimed to be Chase’s wife.
“Mrs. Beckett? I am Dr. Mathison. We’re so sorry, a Noah Adler was the emergency contact listed on his phone.”
“We’re newly married,” Evie rushes out, folding her arms behind her back and hiding her ring finger.
I blink as I glance at my sister, hoping her chest isn’t moving as fast as mine, but thankfully, she’s standing stoic. Please let this work, please let this work.
He nods. “Your husband needed extensive surgery. The accident fractured multiple ribs and dislocated his shoulder. He has a multitude of lacerations on his palms and arms. The good news is that x-rays show no trauma to his spine. But his femur is broken, and he has multiple fractures, as well as ligament and tendon damage to his right hand. They needed immediate surgical intervention—”
I gasp as Evie’s face swings to mine.
“Chase is a chef,” Evie says in explanation of our outburst. “He’ll need that hand, Doc.”
“We will do all we can to give him a full recovery.” The doctor looks down, avoiding her eyes for a moment, and my heart beats faster.
“He has some intracranial swelling along with a small bleed that we’re paying close attention to, but right now, we’re focused on repairing the hand and leg.
We’ll keep you updated as soon as we can.
” He motions to a woman in scrubs standing off to the side.
“The nurse will take you to the family waiting room.”
I shiver from the memory as Evie looks at her phone. “What time is Noah landing?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. He was on standby for one flight and booked for another. I have crappy service in here, so I don’t even know if my texts are going through. But I’m thinking sometime in the next thirty minutes.”
Evie blows out a rush of air, her cheeks puffing up, as I pull my long sleeves over my hands and put a foot on the cold hospital chair I’m sitting on.
Hospitals are always so cold. I’m glad she had the wherewithal to grab two hoodies from her car. But why does she have them in her car in the middle of summer? How long have these been there?
Oh god. My thoughts are so scattered. I’m volleying between scared to death and shit that’s pointless.
I lay my head on Evie’s shoulder, existing in silence, as I check my phone over and over, hoping it will miraculously work, while she picks at her nail polish.
“Noah got ahold of Chase’s family, right?”
We talked about this in the car, but I’m pretty sure neither of us remembers the last four and a half hours very clearly, so I just nod.
“They won’t be here until later today. Even with a private jet.”
“Jesus,” she exhales harshly, and I sit up straight. “Can you imagine hearing someone hurt your kid like this? What kind of animal hits someone and leaves them there to die?” She waves her hand before grabbing mine.
I start to agree with her, but I’m silenced because the glass door swings open, drawing both our eyes.
“Mrs. Beckett?” The doctor we spoke to before is back.
We instantly stand, our hands gripped as she nods.
“He’s out of surgery. It all went very well.
We expect a full recovery for him. And thankfully, the swelling on the brain has gone down, and the bleed has stopped.
He’s really lucky he was wearing his helmet.
We’ll continue to monitor him, but this is the best possible outcome we could’ve hoped for. ”
Neither of us speaks, trying to process what he’s saying. The doctor smiles, his eyes wrinkling on the sides of his face. “Mrs. Beckett. Your husband is out of the woods, and he is going to be just fine.”
A collective sigh of relief whooshes between both of us as we immediately hug. Holy shit. The doctor continues, but we stay in the hug.
“He’s being moved into a suite. Once he’s awake and stable, you’ll be able to see him.”
“Thank you,” Evie says, before looking at me with a smile. “It’s good.”
“It’s good,” I echo, smiling back and letting out a long exhale. “Let me text Noah.”
Even though I don’t know if he’s getting them or not, I still have to send it anyway.
Me: He’s Okay!!!! Out of surgery. They said we can go back once he’s awake. Noah—it’s good.
I drop back into my chair, leaning my head against the wall behind me. “Fuck,” I say and turn to look at my sister. “What a night . . .”
“May it never happen again,” she tosses out with a chuckle as her shoulders sag in relief.
She’s typing furiously on her phone as I just sit and breathe, letting the news sink in. He’s okay. God, the alternative was horrifying. I can’t even think about how I would’ve told Noah. Now, if only I could relax, knowing Noah knows that. Evie turns to face me.
“Umm . . . did you hear what the doctor said? That he had the helmet on.”