39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter thirty-nine
Nash
I’m wheeled into a room after surgery after being given so much pain medication that I don’t feel a thing. I am groggy as fuck. Tired as hell. All I want to do is sleep.
Two nurses are with me, helping me get settled.
“You have your own private room, so no one will bother you, though you do have a few officers who would like to come in and check on you, if you’re okay with it,” one says. The older one.
“Visiting hours are over, though, so we’ll tell them to come back in the morning if you want us to,” the young one says.
I huff a laugh.
“Police officers are tough, but they’re no challenge for nurses,” she adds.
“S’fine,” I say as I rest my head back against the pillow and close my eyes. “They… can come.”
“All right then. We just have a few things to do.” I don’t know who speaks that time because my eyes are closed now and they don’t want to open.
I’ve never been shot before, but I know I’m in for a hell of a recovery. Hopefully this doesn’t ruin my fucking career. I just got here; just started doing good.
“You have caused quite the ruckus, Detective Bennett,” the nurse says.
“That’s right,” the other says. “There’s a young man downstairs who thought you died. He’s in a panic.”
My eyes pop open and I jerk upward, which causes me some pain. I hiss, clenching my jaw to breathe through the pain.
“You have to take it—”
“Who panicked? Is it Carter?”
The nurses share a look. I throw the blankets off me and try to move my legs… even though I can’t feel them.
“Now you hold your horses, Detective Bennett. You are not moving from this bed,” the older nurse says. Margaret, that’s what her name tag says.
“I need to find him,” I say. “Where is he? Is he okay? How did he find out? Where is he?” I demand.
The nurses share a concerned look, then bring their attention back to me. I try to crawl out of bed again, and they move closer.
“Can I get an officer in here?!” one of them calls, but not in an emergent way. Not like she’s afraid for her life.
“What’s going on?” an officer says as he steps in. I don’t recognize him. He’s young.
“He’s trying to get out of bed to see the young man downstairs,” Margaret says.
The guy frowns. “Why?”
“I need to see him,” I say. “It’s important.”
“You related or something?” he asks.
I grit my teeth, then look him dead in the eyes. “He’s my boyfriend.”
The officer’s eyes widen. “Fuck, we didn’t know. I’m sorry. He came looking and said you weren’t related. He overheard Santos and went straight into a panic attack.”
“Panic attack? He’s having a panic attack?” I bark. “Someone better get me down there right this fucking minute.”
“Detective Bennett, don’t make me strap you to the bed,” Margaret says sternly. “I will. You cannot move from this bed. You are recovering from a gunshot.”
“I don’t care about me! I need to see Carter.”
The nurses share another look. The younger one says, “I’ll see what I can do.” Then she heads out.
“If you don’t get me down there to see him, trust me, I’ll do it on my own,” I warn in a dark tone.
Margaret gives me a look like try me. I raise a brow.
“I’m not fucking kidding,” I add.
She rolls her eyes, then looks at the officer. “Make sure he stays in bed. I’ll be right back.”
Margaret heads out of the room, following the other. Just as she’s gone, Gendreau knocks on the door and comes in. Weber is right behind her.
“Holy shit, Bennett. You scared the fuck out of us,” she says with a laugh. “Why’d you—”
“I need one of you to go check on Carter in the ER.”
“Carter?” Weber asks with a raised brow.
“Carter Evans. He’s in the ER. Panic attack. I need you to make sure he’s okay.”
“The nurse is going to do that,” the first officer says.
I kind of want to punch him in the face.
“How do you know that?” I snap. “She probably isn’t doing shit because she doesn’t want me out of bed.” I look back at Gendreau. “Go find out.” They both look at me like they’re unsure of what to do. “Please,” I grit out.
“Yeah, okay. No problem. I’ll go,” she says.
She leaves and Weber stays. He pats the young officer on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go get some coffee or something. I’ll stay with him.” He looks at me, like he can’t be sure if I’m going to stay or run.
“You’re not my fucking babysitter,” I growl.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get out of bed,” Weber says. “Go.”
The other officer doesn’t argue and leaves the room.
I raise a brow. “I don’t give a fuck who is in my way, I’m getting down there to talk to Carter.”
Weber steps closer, sliding his hands into his slacks’ pockets. “Okay, I won’t argue with you, but you need to do this right. You just had surgery for fuck’s sake.”
“And Carter is downstairs having a fucking panic attack because of it. I need to be there for him. I need—” I get choked up and the words get stuck in my throat. I look away as tears burn my eyes.
“Hey, Bennett, it’s okay. We will figure this out. We’ll get you down there. I’ll make sure of it.”
Gendreau comes in a short time later. “He’s still there. He’s asleep. They plan to keep him for a few hours. Had a bad panic attack.”
“Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. “I need to go see him. Where are the nurses?”
“I don’t know,” she says with a shrug. “There are some out there, but they’re all busy.”
“If they don’t come in here and unhook me the right way, I’ll do it myself and really piss them off.”
“Okay.” She holds up her hands. “I’ll go let them know they better bring you down before we all regret it.”
“Thank you,” I grunt. “And hurry up.”
“You really care about this guy, huh?” Weber asks when she leaves the room.
“Yes.”
He nods his understanding. “I get it. I’ve been where you are.” I give him a bullshit look. “Seriously,” he adds. “I was shot when I was a rookie. In my leg. My daughter was only two months old at the time, so you can imagine how crazy my wife went.”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
“Got two now. Wife’s pregnant with our third.
I’m hoping for a boy this time, but we’ll see.
” He smiles brightly like he’s thinking about them.
“But I get where you’re at. You want to check on him, make sure he’s okay.
I’ll get you there. I promise. Just… chill.
Don’t make this worse. I know you want to come back to work, so you need to do whatever you can to make that happen. ”
I nod, because he’s right. Fucking people and their sense.
The elevator doors open up to a large, chaotic room.
The ER. I’ve spent enough shifts here in my day, back in Chicago when I was just starting out, to know it’s always crazy.
Drunks. Fights. All kinds of shit. It’s no different here, only the chaos feels contained in this moment.
Which is good. If something crazy was going on down here, I’m pretty sure Nurse Margaret would wheel me right back upstairs and tie me to the bed like she threatened to do before.
Each room we come upon, my heart pounds harder and harder. Which room is his? How far do we have to go? I just need to see him. Make sure he’s okay. We finally stop in front of room twenty-two. The door is closed, but the nurse knocks gently then pushes it open and backs me in.
Carter is asleep on the bed, so peaceful.
He’s okay. Thank fuck, he’s okay.
“I’ll give you twenty minutes,” Margaret whispers. “But after that, I need you to go back upstairs and behave.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She gives me a stern look then leaves the room, closing the door behind her. I glance at the machines Carter is hooked up to, and the IV traveling from his arm to the bag. I can’t believe he’s here because of me, purposeful or not.
I wheel myself closer, trying my best not to knock into anything and wake him up.
I’m also only using one arm because my left one is useless.
When I’m on the side of his bed, I take his hand.
His eyes flutter until they open. They’re glossy at first, until recognition strikes. They pop open. He gasps.
“Nash.”
“I’m here.”
“You—you’re—”
“Here. It’s okay. I’m okay. And you’re okay too. I’m so sorry.”
Carter looks around the room like he’s seeing it for the first time, then his gaze comes back to me. There is devastation there. My heart sinks. I can’t believe I did this to him. I can’t believe that man did this to him twice.
“I thought you died,” he says, swallowing hard. “I thought… I thought you were dead, Nash.”
There’s panic in his voice, and the last thing I want is for another panic attack to happen.
“Shh,” I hush, trying to calm him. “It’s okay. I’m fine. I’m alive.”
“I know,” he breathes out, shaking his head like he can’t understand what’s going on. “That’s the problem.”
“What?” I choke out.
He shakes his head again, tears pooling in his eyes. “Do you know what I’ve been thinking?” he hisses.
I don’t understand what he’s mad about. I’m right here. I’m fine. I’m alive. He’s okay. I made sure to get down here as soon as I could.
“Carter, I would have called—”
“No, Nash. It has nothing to do with that,” he says, tears streaming down his face now.
“Then what?” I squeeze his hand.
He pulls it away and that’s when I know…
I know he’s about to say something that hurts.
“All I’ve been thinking is how I wish I didn’t love you.”
My body turns to ice. “You wish…”
“Yeah,” he says bitterly through the sobs. “I wish I didn’t love you. Because this? I can’t do this again. I thought it was worth it. I said it was worth it, and I fucking believed it. But I can’t, Nash. I’m not strong enough to handle this again.”
I take his hand in both of mine this time, leaning closer. “But I’m fine, Carter. I’m here. I’m right here.”
“I can’t do this,” he says in disbelief. Like he’s just not understanding something. Whatever it is, I’ll help him figure it out.
“Do what?” I grit out.
“Wonder every day if you’re coming home. Wonder if I’m going to deal with that pain all over again and not have anyone to help me through it, because I had no one until you, and I know for a fact that I will never ever get that again.” He gives me the most pained look. “I’m not that lucky.”
I swallow hard. My vision is blurry, and I realize it’s because there are tears in my eyes, and my face is wet.
What the fuck.
“I can’t survive this twice,” he chokes out.
I try to catch my breath but no matter what I do, my lungs won’t fill.
“So, this is it?” I ask, not recognizing the voice that comes out of me.
Carter holds my gaze, those beautiful eyes swimming in tears. His face is pale. Tired. I know the answer without him having to say a thing. So I pull myself together and do the only thing I can.
“Okay,” I say with a soft nod. “Okay.”
I let go of his hand, and I leave the room.