2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Sutton
M aci dozes on and off on the ride. Several nurses descend on her the second we’re in the ER, and I alternate between trying to stay close and trying to stay out of the way while they draw blood and start an IV. When they disperse, instinct takes over and I get closer, sliding my hand over hers.
I can’t help but stand watch over her. It doesn’t matter that Colt is no longer a threat. I almost lost her. I’m not completely sure of all the damage, and his fucking knife is still sticking out of her.
Her body stays rigid. She threads her fingers with mine but won’t open her eyes, even though I know she’s awake.
Maci’s really good at creating walls around herself. To a fault even. So I stay put, rubbing her hand, letting her know I’m here on this side when she’s ready to come out. Past that, it doesn’t feel right to push her now.
Eventually, the doctor comes in and Maci opens her eyes, glassy and far from rested. He introduces himself and begins poking around her abdomen and side. She flinches and grits her teeth. Her grip on my hand tightens, but she stares vacantly at the ceiling. It’s less reaction than we got at the house, and I can’t help the nerves that race through me, wondering if she’s losing feeling or just putting on a brave face.
I want to break something. To cause damage as retribution for what she’s going through. Instead, my thumb continues to rub circles over the back of her hand.
It can’t be more than thirty seconds before he speaks, even if it feels like a lifetime of anticipation. “We’re going to take you back to surgery to remove this knife.”
“Say what?” The words fly out before I can stop them.
The doctor looks at me blankly. “Safety precaution.” He looks between Maci and me. “This wound has the potential to be painful but otherwise unremarkable, or we could be looking at something much more serious. We would see a lot more bleeding if it were an artery, but that doesn’t rule out any organs being damaged.”
Maci’s eyes widen, and I add my other hand to the mix trying to infuse comfort into her. I know it’s no use. I wasn’t there when it happened, and I can’t do anything now.
“What kind of organ damage?” Maci’s words are measured, careful.
“Hard to say without seeing. Our biggest concern is going to be intestines. There’s also a threat to reproductive organs.”
Her eyes shift to me, wide and unseeing. They’re full of tears again. If that motherfucker wasn’t dead already, I’d kill him myself.
How did I manage to fail her both times she needed to defend herself?
The doctor continues, unphased. “You’ll be under anesthesia in the operating room.”
Maci’s hold on my hand intensifies and I give her a softer squeeze in return, but I doubt it does anything to comfort her.
“Some more obvious side effects of anesthesia are confusion and drowsiness, but some people experience nausea and vomiting. There are some bigger risks. The nurses will go over everything, and you’ll need to sign a couple forms before we get started.”
His lips press into a bland, forced smile before he pats the foot of the bed and leaves. This is just another day for him.
“Paperwork, my favorite.” Maci tries to grin at me, but it’s tired.
“You afraid they won’t like your handwriting, Firecracker?”
She gives me a half-smile and breathes a laugh. “No. I’ve just never had surgery to remove a foreign object before. Didn’t know what to expect.”
This woman is fucking amazing. She’s laying on this shitty hospital bed with a psycho’s knife sticking out of her body, and she’s cracking jokes.
It doesn’t stop me from wondering how this will affect us long term. Maci was just starting to open up with me. This has the potential to cause her to shut down in a big way, proven by her shields firmly in place right now.
The nurse pushes her way in with paperwork and a clipboard. “Hey sweetheart, let’s get you ready for surgery.”
The moment they wheel Maci to the operating room, the gravity of the situation overtakes me. I stand, alone, in the emergency bay, willing myself not to punch a hole in the wall.
Footsteps approach from the hallway. “Hey, man.” Nick’s voice is softer than usual.
I turn abruptly. He waves politely to another nurse, who gives a tight-lipped smile and walks away.
“I followed as soon as I could. They’ve sealed off the property for the investigation, so I got out of the way.” He scans the empty space. “How’s it going here? Where’s Maci?”
“She’s in fucking surgery.” My head hangs, the words sounding defeated. If this goes sideways, I don’t know if I can make it out the other side. Even thinking it to myself is crazy. I thought my life was full before Maci came along. I love my role at the ranch, have a wonderful family, and good friends. But now? I can’t imagine life without her in it.
It was bad enough to consider her moving back to Austin for good.
Yesterday, I laid everything out for her. I wanted to give her time to process and decide what she wanted without my interference, so I let her be. The day got away from me, and we didn’t have a chance to talk. I got up before dawn as usual and she slept in before lunch with her mother. I have no idea what the rest of the day held leading up to the incident with Colt. All I could think about was begging her to try long-distance if I couldn’t convince her to move here.
I think she wants to be here. I know she wants me. Even if she’s dancing around the decision.
And yet now…now I’m faced with the possibility that a scumbag who wanted her to himself may have done permanent damage to her, possibly stealing her from me forever, as his last pathetic act on earth.
My muscles all feel tightly wound, ready to strike.
“Sutton. Whoa, man.” Nick has a death grip on my shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go get some air.” His eyes bore into mine, waiting for a sign that I’ve heard him.
I nod vacantly.
Maci’s nurse stops at the open curtain. “I’ll come get you when she’s done.” She starts to walk away but pauses. “You can wash up in the bathroom, if you want.” Her chin jerks toward a door behind me.
“We’ll stay close,” Nick promises. I’m thankful, again, for his presence. He looks me over. “I have a spare shirt in my truck. I’ll be right back.” He waits for my silent acknowledgement before leaving.
I step into the private bathroom and take stock of myself in the mirror. My ruined white undershirt comes off first. Aside from my hands, there’s also remnants of blood around my jaw and on my stomach where it seeped through the shirt. I wash it all down the drain. The mingled life force of the woman I love and the man who attempted to steal her from me.
Washing up isn’t as refreshing as usual. I don’t feel any better than I did with blood on me. None of it matters until I know what’s going on with Maci.
Nick returns with a clean shirt, gesturing me into the hallway when I’m redressed. He starts talking, leading us away from the semi-private spaces in the ER. “Izzy and Leah are on their way.”
My brows furrow.
“Must’ve been a sixth sense thing. They showed up at the house just after the ambulance left. I didn’t give a ton of details, but they weren’t taking no for an answer on where Maci was. I think they’re packing her a bag and locking up the house.”
“Thanks.” I can’t bring myself to say anything else.
Before long, we approach a small, enclosed waiting room.
“I know you don’t think you’re up for it, but we need to talk. You’re gonna self-implode if I let you sit here and stew in whatever bullshit you’re creating up here.” He taps my temple.
“What do you want to talk about?” I shove open the door for us to walk through. The space is empty aside from us and a pot of coffee on a drab counter along the far wall. We both pour a cup, skipping the single-serve sweeteners, and sit in worn, leather chairs, side by side.
The free-standing ER location in Bull Creek is small. Unlike the hospital in the city, it’s good for strep tests and ear infections, but I doubt they handle many knives in stomachs. My leg bounces anxiously at the thought of Maci lying in their sterile operating room.
“Tell me about Maci. You’ve been keeping a tight lid on everything, but this all happened fast. So, what’s up?”
I grimace at the bitter brew. I don’t even like coffee. Maci loves it. It’s one of her greatest pleasures. I close my eyes and send up a prayer that I can make her coffee every day for the rest of her life.
“That. Right there. You’re killing yourself.” Nick’s voice is firmer. Is he pulling out the warden tone on me?
I arch an eyebrow at him, and he smirks.
He is. And he’s doing it on purpose.
“Start talking.” He crosses his beefy arms over his chest. Maybe for the first time with him, I do as I’m told. He lets me rattle on for several minutes without interrupting, except to ask more leading questions, keeping me talking.
I share more than I ever have. Maybe in my entire life. I tell him about the day I met Maci after her grandmother, Ruthie, passed. How even in her grief and struggle to be composed, she was beautiful. About her pride at the funeral and how she held the community in her palm with her eulogy. About her determination to be all she needs for herself, because people have continued to fail her.
I was beginning to think I wasn’t like the others—that I couldn’t possibly be. Except I did fail her tonight.
“Dude, relax.” Nick picks up where I left off. “Maci isn’t dating you because she expects something from you. And you’ve been there every time she’s needed you. You brought that dirty-ass trailer up to the Fall Festival. You were there after that asshole busted her window. You were there to calm her down after he accosted her on Halloween. And you made it tonight. You’re here now. You don’t need to be everything for her to prove she doesn’t have to be everything for herself. You have to be you for her, because that’s what she wants and needs. I promise you, man, that’s enough.”
I stare at my best friend in awe. In a mirror of my uncharacteristic sharing, he’s spouted off some deep advice right when I needed it. My head rocks up and down while I wring my hands in my lap. “Thanks.”
The ticking of the clock on the wall is too slow. I lean my head back on the chair, trying to ignore the way my lungs refuse to inflate completely. I didn’t ask how long they would be. What’s normal? Do I panic after thirty minutes or three hours?
We only sit quietly for a few minutes before Izzy and Leah barge into the silent room.
Izzy’s ice-blue eyes are wild. “Where is she? Is she ok?” She clasps a hand tightly to Leah’s. Leah looks less panicked, but her eyes bounce between Nick and I.
I rise quickly from my seat. “She’s in surgery—”
“What!” Izzy shrieks and Leah releases her hand, wrapping her arms tightly around her friend.
Nick stands. “I know this is a scary situation, but Maci’s in the best place she can be. You two can wait with us.”
Both women visibly relax at his calm demeanor.
“What happened?” Leah asks, still deciding which of us to look at.
I take a deep breath. “Colt attacked Maci at Ruthie’s. She had to defend herself, but he managed to stab her in the process.”
Leah’s arms fall from Izzy, whose hand flies to her mouth. I continue as calmly as possible, hoping that the more at ease I am, and the more information they have, the better they’ll feel. But I’m dying second by second, so doing that for them takes everything I have.
“The knife was still embedded when I got to the house. We didn’t want to cause any more bleeding, so we waited to remove it and the doctors said they would do it in surgery as a precaution. For the same reason.”
“Oh my God,” Izzy whispers.
“How long has she been in surgery?” Leah, usually the wild one, seems to be the levelheaded one tonight. Meanwhile, Izzy, normally practical, is on the verge of a panic attack.
“Maybe thirty minutes.”
“There’s coffee,” Nick offers, and gestures to the long counter behind them.
“Thanks. Come on.” Leah grips Izzy’s hand and leads her over to grab their own terrible cups of coffee before they join us on the tattered chairs.
Chatter is at a minimum. We take turns pacing, sitting, checking the clock, commenting on the time, and asking each other questions none of us actually know the answer to, like, “How long do you think it will be?” or “Do you think something’s wrong because it’s taking so long?”
At some point, we all manage to sit at the same time. Leah and Izzy take up the lone extra wide seat, tucking themselves together. I stare, unblinking, at the water-stained tile ceiling. Nick’s leg bounces in a slow rhythm next to me, bumping my chair periodically.
Around the two-hour mark, Maci’s nurse swings the waiting room door open wide, causing me to jump up out of my seat. She gives me a soft smile. “If you want to come with me, I’ll show you to her new room. She’ll have a different nurse. I don’t work in Recovery.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
She looks at the group of us. “Visiting hours are over, so only family.” Her head tips my way as if to indicate me.
Izzy and Leah exchange a glance. Leah nods and Izzy says, “We’ll wait here for an update”—I start to open my mouth, but she continues—“no matter how long it takes.”
“I’ll hang out, too,” Nick adds.
I dip my chin in acknowledgement and turn to the nurse. She leads me to the elevator and down a long hallway. Maci’s room is the last one, and she’s tucked under several thin blankets. Her features are soft, her eyes gently closed. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was sleeping peacefully.
“She’s been in and out a little already. She’ll be groggy for a bit. The doctor will come in later and update you both.”
“Thank you.” I don’t look away from Maci, pulling a stiff chair to the side of the bed. I wrap my hand around hers and hold onto her for dear life.