30. Chapter 30
Chapter thirty
D ing.
The elevator doors swooshed open, jostling Carson as her wheelchair maneuvered through the opening. The TICU seemed eerily quiet. Where were the nurses rushing back and forth? Where was the wheeling of carts and equipment? What about the codes being announced over the speakers? Wasn’t this supposed to be a trauma floor?
She fished out the whiteboard wedged next to her thigh to write a question and held it up for her nurse.
“They purposefully keep it quiet so the patients can rest and recover,” he said.
He pushed her down the dim hallway, passing room after room, patient after patient. It was almost creepy just how dead everything seemed. Almost like the building had been abandoned.
Thanks to the painkillers in her IV, the burning in Carson’s throat had subsided to a warm ache. It took some silver-tongued, attorney-style persuasion to convince her doctor to not drug her into a zombie. She didn’t want to relive her sluggish, drained hospital days pumped full of pharmaceuticals. She only wanted enough to keep the pain at bay. Enough to get her to Jax .
The nurse slowed as they approached the very last doorway at the end of the hall. Carson’s leg began to bounce, and she let it. Nervously, she straightened the oxygen tube on her face, though it was already level, and smoothed her hand down her French braids.
While waiting for permission to visit Jax, Raegan had talked Carson into taking a shower. The clear water shooting out of the faucet had turned murky by the time it puddled at Carson’s feet and slid down the drain. It hadn’t been easy scrubbing off the soot with the tubes still hooked to her body. Thankfully, Raegan had been there to help wash her hair, hold the lines out of the way, hand her a towel, and braid her hair back. Raegan was going to be an amazing mother.
Jax’s room was dark except for a glow emanating from behind his bed, much like the horizon just before the sun breached the sky. The amount of equipment stacked around him was intimidating and a bit nerve-racking. Wires, tubes, lines, and gadgets spilled out from under his gown as though the hospital was trying to transform him into a cyborg.
Under his blanket, a massive lump sat where his left leg should have been, making him look lopsided and deformed. Carson wondered what kind of break it was and how the surgery had gone. One of her clients from years ago had broken her femur once. She’d told Carson that by six months she was back to her normal activities, but even after two years she still didn’t have full strength in that leg.
Even though his bed was adjusted to elevate his upper body, Jax was asleep, sporting his own oxygen cannula. But as Carson was wheeled right next to him, her muscles locked at how frighteningly unwell he looked. A thin sheen of sweat dewed on his face. His black mane stuck to his forehead, and a milky hue coated his skin. She reached out to touch his arm, half-expecting it to be cold and frozen, and she sighed in relief when it was warm.
Carson smiled gratefully at her nurse after he positioned her chair and locked the wheels. Once he left, she turned to inspect the machines, trying to interpret them. The buttons and numbers and symbols made her eyes cross, but no bells or alarms were sounding. She had to trust Jax was doing alright.
Seeing him alive was surreal. When the darkness had taken her, Carson had been convinced their bodies would be claimed by the fire.
This life was giving her yet another chance. How many times was she supposed to be dead? She should have died in that car accident. The pills and alcohol should have finished the job. Her body should have been smothered in flames. Three chances at life. It was finally time to start living.
Taking Jax’s hand into hers, she lifted it to kiss the top, avoiding his IV. He didn’t stir, and Carson had no idea how long it would be until he would wake. Using her arms as pillows, she leaned forward and rested on the side of his bed. Even though all she wanted to do was stare at his face forever, her eyelids began to droop. The exhaustion was strong, so she closed her eyes to rest.
The car was on fire. Everything was on fire. Carson was strapped to the front seat. It was so hot. Her esophagus burned. The flames danced closer and closer to her, so close that her skin was turning red.
Except the fire didn’t scare her. Unbuckling the seatbelt, she lifted herself through the passenger door window. As she moved, the flames scurried out of her way, as if she was going to hurt them. Feet planted firmly on the road, Carson began walking away from the wreckage, leaving it all behind.
That was when a voice called her name. Looking around, all she could see was the blaze. Once again her name echoed around her—
Carson didn’t know how long she had been asleep. Maybe an hour, maybe only minutes. She swallowed and cringed at the roaring pain. Why couldn’t she dream about popsicles and ice cream? Her eyelids flitted as the hand she was holding squeezed.
“Carson.”
Head popping up, she blinked away the irritation. After a couple of seconds, the blur before her sharpened into shapes. Jax was peering down at her, his beautiful blue eyes radiating. Eyebrows pinched in bewilderment, he looked at her, then at her hospital gown, then at her wheelchair.
“What are you doing here?” he croaked with labored breaths. The rise and fall of his chest was unnatural. He tried to shift in his bed, grimacing when the movement jarred his legs. A frown formed when he noticed the splint.
“Are you in pain?” Carson wheezed, ignoring the ache.
“A little,” Jax said, clearing his throat. “What happened?”
Can’t talk , she mouthed, pointing to her neck. Then she grabbed her marker and whiteboard, scribbled the most important facts she could think of, and handed it to him to read.
Fire downtown. You got trapped. Leg broken. You had surgery. Doctor says you’re fine. Happened last night .
“I remember the fire. I remember them telling me about my leg and surgery,” Jax said. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
Grabbing the board out of his hands, Carson bit her lip. I went into the building to find you. Smoke burned my lungs and throat. Not allowed to talk .
As he read each word, Jax’s sleepy eyes became more and more alert with angst, triggering his heart machine to beep angrily.
“You what? ” he hissed, then cringed at the pain that shot through him.
Frantically she waved her hands and shook her head, which made her a bit dizzy. Then she took his hand again and squeezed.
I’m fine , she mouthed, rubbing her hand down Jax’s forearm and back up. The beeping quieted, but he continued to frown. Then he squeezed his eyes shut for a second before focusing back on her.
“Are you insane?” he asked.
Most definitely. Insane. Crazy. Stupid. All of it. She shrugged her shoulders.
Face softening, Jax relaxed his head into the pillow. “What am I supposed to do with you?”
A grin spread on her face, and she kissed his hand. A hushed voice floated through the hallway speakers behind her, something about a doctor needed at station six.
When the announcement was over, she stole back her whiteboard.
You look like shit .
After reading it, he let out a laugh, then sucked in a breath. “So do you,” he said through the pain.
Wrinkling her nose at him she wrote, HA HA .
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Carson’s nerves shriveled. She wasn’t ready to leave him. She still had so much to say. Who knew the next time she would see him again? Relief spread when the footsteps disappeared into the room adjacent to his.
No more precious seconds to waste.
I have something to tell you . . . The script looked like a toddler using a crayon for the first time because Carson’s fingers were trembling so much. The board shook when she tried to hold it up, so she gently placed it on Jax’s stomach and controlled her tapping heel as it made the wheelchair creak. If she had still been hooked up to her heart monitor, it would have been dinging uncontrollably.
A single black eyebrow rose as Jax looked at the board, then her. “What?” His voice was deep and still, like the bottom of the sea.
Not bothering with the white board she took in a steady breath, even if the air scratched her blistered throat, and mouthed, I love you .
A groan rumbled out of his mouth. “I know that, Carson,” he said, exasperated, causing her to draw her chin in. Weakly, his fingers reached for hers and interlaced with them. “I know you love me because when we first met, you were at your lowest, yet you still took a chance on me. You loved me enough to step away and let me decide for myself about having children of my own.”
It must have taken all of his energy to talk, because he stopped to take in a few breaths. Carson was sure his doctor wouldn’t approve of strenuous declarations of love until he was off bed rest.
“And it was your very stupid love that saved me,” he finished.
Carson’s gaze dropped to her feet, kept warm with a fuzzy pair of canary-yellow socks.
Unraveling their fingers, Jax used his knuckle to lift Carson’s face. For the first time in a long time, he was smiling at her. Really smiling. Lines forming around his eyes and all. And it was clear to Carson that Jax had made his choice.
“Now, can you please let me love you this time?”