Chapter 65 Scarlett
SCARLETT
I charged through the doors of the emergency room, delirious with panic.
It had taken an eternity to get here, Chicago’s unforgiving traffic conspiring against me at every turn.
Luckily, there was no one in line at registration, so I ran right up to the desk, the woman’s eyes widening at my bloody mess of an appearance.
“Nurse!” she shouted, half rising from her chair.
“I’m not bleeding,” I assured her, holding up my hands. “This isn’t my blood.”
Her gaze swept over me again, not looking convinced in the least. For all she knew, I could be in shock, not registering my injuries.
“We should check you out to be sure,” she insisted, reaching for the phone.
“I’m not hurt.” I fought to keep my voice steady. “I just need to know if Jace Lockwood arrived. If he’s … is he here? Is he alive?”
“Ma’am, I’m going to have our triage team check you out.”
“I’m fine!” My voice rose, desperation clawing at my throat.
“Please, I don’t have time for this. Can you tell me if a patient named Jace Lockwood is here?
” I pressed my palms against the counter, the blood long dried or it would have left crimson smudges.
“He should be here.” Then again, what if the helicopter changed course for some reason? “Can you tell me if he’s okay?”
I was causing a scene. Whispered conversations in the waiting room had come to a hush, and I could feel eyes boring into my back.
Despite my pleas, a nurse materialized and attempted to usher me away. I stepped back, refusing.
“I’m. Not. Harmed,” I said, punctuating each word. “And I’m not going anywhere until you tell me the status of Jace Lockwood.”
The nurse exchanged a look with the reception lady, who sighed begrudgingly, and then finally asked, “What is your relationship to him?”
“I’m …” I hesitated. “His girlfriend.”
She pursed her lips in pity. “I’m afraid I can only disclose information to family members.”
“But—”
“Now, we’ll check you out, and if you’re not injured, you’re free to have a seat over there if you’d like.” She gestured to the waiting area.
“Can you at least tell me if he’s alive?” My voice cracked.
“Like I said, family members only. I’m sorry.”
My entire body sank with defeat for a moment.
“Dr. Blake Morrison. Can you tell him I’m here?”
Her shoulders pulled back. “You know Dr. Morrison?”
“Yes, I’m a friend of his. Can you tell him that I’m here?”
The ladies exchanged a look.
“We’ll get the message to him.”
Only then did I allow that nurse to check me out.
I was pretty sure she inspected my skin for gashes, took my vitals, but I was in too much of a fog to register it.
When she was convinced I wasn’t dying, she let me go to the waiting room where I decided pacing was the answer to all my prayers.
So was massaging my bloodied hands, evidently, and so was replaying what had happened.
After Jace had vanished into the elevator, I bolted up the stairs and waited for the elevator to arrive on Jace’s floor.
Proud of how fast I’d run. But when the elevator didn’t open right away, I worried he’d outpaced me.
That he’d already made it into his office and was already in a confrontation with Marcus.
But then, suddenly, I heard a muted battle coming from the elevator.
A battle that grew louder with each press of the button.
Finally, those elevator doors opened, and there was Jace, lying in a pool of his blood.
“Scarlett?” A familiar voice broke my train of thought.
I turned.
“Blake.” I ran up to him as he emerged from a pair of double doors that led back to the treatment area. “Is Jace alive?”
“Scarlett”—Blake’s attention scanned my bloody clothes—“are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. Is Jace alive?” My voice rose an octave.
“Are you cut?”
“No.”
“Why are you barefoot?”
“Because running down a flight of stairs and through a parking lot is much slower with only one high heel on.” I grabbed his arm. “Is. Jace. Alive?”
My heart stopped beating. In the space of one breath, my entire world paused and waited for the verdict that would change my life forever.
“He’s alive.”
I let out a huge gust of air, my knees weakening so much with relief that Blake had to grab my arms to steady me.
“Are you sure you’re not bleeding?” His medical fingers lifted my hair, looked for any sign of injury on my body.
I shook my head. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks as my throat clenched.
“This is Jace’s blood.”
After a moment, Blake guided me by the elbow to the side of the room, theoretically out of earshot of everyone else who was staring at me like a woman who’d escaped a horror movie.
And then, in a low growl, he asked, “Who the fuck did this to him?”
“Marcus,” I said, feeling nauseous from my heart beating so fast.
“Marcus,” Blake repeated, as if trying to remember who I was talking about. “The guy he works with?”
I nodded. “Is Jace okay? Is he going to be okay?”
Blake put his hand on my shoulder and switched to a soothing tone. “He’s lost a lot of blood. They’ve taken him up to surgery. I’ll bring you back to a room where you can wait. I already called his family; they’re on their way.”
“His brothers?”
Blake nodded. “I have more questions for you.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want, but please, please save him.”
I’m not sure how long I stood in that room after Blake left me.
Chewing my thumbnail, which was really gross since it was still coated in blood.
The taste of iron lingered on my tongue, and on more than one occasion, a nurse came in and offered to help clean me up.
But I didn’t want to do anything until I knew Jace was okay.
I didn’t want to be in the bathroom. I didn’t want to be in the cafeteria.
I wanted to be right where Blake had left me, right where he would look for me when he had an update.
The door opened.
Blake’s large frame ambled into the room, but surprisingly, he wasn’t alone. Ryker, I recognized: that was my best friend, Tessa’s, brother. But I’d never met the third guy.
“Is Jace okay?” I asked Blake, my heart lurching.
“Still in surgery,” he answered.
“Is he … is he going to make it?” I couldn’t keep the tremor from my voice.
“They’re doing everything they can.” Blake’s voice carried that doctor calm, but beneath it simmered rage. “Scarlett, we’d like to ask you some questions.”
I scanned the men, noting their demeanor. Clenching and unclenching fists, broad shoulders, tight jaws.
“You know Ryker.” Blake motioned to him. “And this is Axel. If it’s okay with you, they’d like to hear your answers,” Blake started.
“Okay?”
“Tell us what happened,” Axel said, his voice low and controlled.
And so I did. Through it all, the guys glared with what could only be described as controlled fury as they listened to me recount their friend being attacked.
“His jugular was punctured, but the cut stopped abruptly,” Blake said. “That pattern suggests he intended to slice the entire throat.”
I wasn’t sure why this mattered. Medically, they had to repair whatever damage there was, so who cared? That was when I realized that these men, these friends of Jace, must want every horrid detail.
“Who stopped the attack?” Axel wondered aloud, his eyes narrowing.
“Um … I guess I did?”
“How?” Ryker asked.
“I kicked Marcus.”
Kicked. Perhaps wondering how a small woman could stop a murder without wearing something like steel-toed boots, the men glanced down at my feet and seemed to realize I was barefoot.
“I lost one of my high heels,” I explained, gesturing vaguely at my exposed toes. “It lodged in Marcus’s ear canal.”
The guys exchanged a look, a ghost of a smirk brushing across their faces.
“Well, if I’m ever being attacked, I want Barbie as my bodyguard,” Axel said, his tone lightening just a fraction.
Despite myself, I nearly smiled. There was something so calming about their presence. I felt their love for Jace, felt how much they had his back.
“I called Tessa,” Blake said, squeezing my shoulder. “She’s on her way.”
“So, this Marcus guy”—Axel’s tone turned serious again—“any idea where he is?”
“Um …” I blinked, suddenly realizing I had no idea what had happened to him after the chaos. “I would assume either in a jail cell or in an emergency room.”
Blake exchanged a loaded look with the other guys. “I’ll go check.”
“I’ll come with,” Axel said, a dangerous edge to his voice.
“Me too,” Ryker added with a glint in his eye that made me almost feel sorry for Marcus.
Almost.