Chapter 33
CHAPTER 33
NATE
It’s been twelve hours of hell.
I’m not used to being on this side of things. Normally I get to help a person in a car accident, get them in an ambulance, and then I’m done. It’s the end of the road for my relationship with that person. Sometimes Quinn and Hailey tell us about the trip to the hospital, but nine times out of ten, we know nothing.
I realize now how much I take that for granted. I wouldn’t be able to do my job if I were emotionally invested in every single person I helped, but this gives me a different outlook on those I help, and their loved ones.
It’s hell. I am living in a waking nightmare.
By the time I got to the scene, Savanna had blacked out. If it hadn’t been for Liam and Brody, I probably would have lost my damn mind. Those two kept me levelheaded. With the three of us working together, we managed to get the door open on the driver’s side so we could at least get in there to assess her properly.
When I say we, I mean Brody got in there. Liam was in firefighter mode so he was keeping it together, but Brody could see he was right on the precipice of losing it after witnessing the crash. I was a write off.
There was no compartmentalizing my feelings, or what I was seeing. Once we got the door open, I knew the things we had to do, but I couldn’t make any part of my body function. It was like I had stepped outside of myself to watch everything going on. My fingers and toes went numb, I felt sick, and at one point when I looked down at my hands, I realized they were shaking as badly as Savanna’s had the night she broke the glass at the bar. The night she first told me about the scumbag who put her in this position.
This wasn’t my first time at a scene of someone I knew, but it was the first time the woman I love was involved. I’ve never been so happy to see another rescue crew show up so they could get her pulled from the wreckage. When a hand clapped me on the shoulder, it took me a moment to realize that it was Tyson. The same Tyson who had stared at her like he’d wanted more than just a meal, or her number.
“We’ll take good care of her,” he’d said to me.
They had. It felt like it’d taken all day to free her, but that wasn’t the logical part of my brain talking. The firefighter in me knew they’d worked efficiently, yet carefully, extricating her in the safest and quickest way possible. It had been hard to watch, but harder to look away. Especially when I had looked away, it was to see a couple of other guys looking at Vincent who lay in the field.
Dead.
Some dark part of me wishes it’d been me to end his life. The rational part of me knows it’s better this way. No longer a threat and will never be one again. At least not physically.
Savanna spent most of the day in surgery. There was internal bleeding, which was the most critical, but they managed to get it under control after they removed her spleen. At least that’s what the doctor told me.
Then there was everything else.
Her left forearm was fractured, her right collarbone had to be repaired along with a dislocated shoulder, and she’d sustained major blows on both sides of her head. That was the most concerning right now; the doctors were worried about the swelling in her brain, but they wouldn’t know the full damage until she woke up.
They’re keeping her pretty heavily medicated, which I know is the best thing, but Christ, what I wouldn’t give to see those gray eyes of hers.
Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention and I expect to see a nurse coming into the room. Instead, it’s Brody.
He gives me a nod before glancing at Savanna. “How is she?”
Sitting up in my chair, I release a breath, running a hand through my hair. “No change.”
Savanna was airlifted to the trauma center in San Jose which is a little more than an hour from Santa Rosé, so Brody drove us to the hospital once she was loaded in the helicopter. Liam followed on his bike, not wanting to leave it on the side of the highway even though we both tried to convince him not to ride after being so shaken up. Damn asshole wouldn’t listen to us.
They both left once she got out of surgery, and only after I insisted they go home and get changed. They both had her blood all over their clothes. I still do.
“Stopped by your place,” he says, reading my mind. He holds up a bag. “Brought you this. Figured you weren’t leaving anytime soon.”
My chin juts out, jaw set. “I’m not.”
“You get a hold of her dad?” Brody asks, taking a seat opposite me on the other side of her bed.
Leaning back in my chair again, I clasp my hands together and rest them on my stomach, letting my eyes settle back on Savanna where they’ve been for the majority of the time I’ve been sitting here. She’s breathing on her own, so she doesn’t have a bunch of tubes and wires coming out of her face, but I feel like they’re all over the rest of her.
I hate that her dad and brothers are going to have to see her like this. Sighing, I nod. “Yeah. Her family is flying in first thing tomorrow.”
For a while we sit in silence, listening to the machines monitoring Savanna.
It guts me to look at her, to see all the bruising and swelling on her face, the cuts and scrapes. It’s partially why I keep staring at her. I need to punish myself for everything that’s happened, for everything I couldn’t stop, and this is the best way.
I should have done a better job protecting her. I should have kept my promise of protecting her. I don’t know what more I could have done, short of handcuffing her to me, but Jesus, there must have been something.
“Stop it,” Brody says.
I look up at him in surprise. “Stop what?”
His lips pinch together, exasperated. “I can hear you from here. You’re beating yourself up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I scoff, shifting guiltily.
Keen brown eyes watch me over Savanna’s bed. “You didn’t need to.”
Breathing out a sigh, I scrub my hands over my face. Sometimes it’s easier when it’s Liam instead of Brody. Sure, Liam picks up on things, but he doesn’t call me out in the same manner Brody does. Brody has this quiet way of throwing things at you that make you stop and think, and I really don’t have the capacity to do that right now.
“I should have done more,” I tell him, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees, looking down at the floor. “I should have been there for her.”
Closing my eyes, I take a shaky breath, hating myself for the thoughts running through my head, but I need to tell someone, and it might as well be Brody.
“I love Liam, and I’m grateful as fuck he was there for her, but it should have been me,” I choke out, pushing a finger and thumb into the corners of my eyes. “I wish it had been me talking to her, holding her hand, telling her it was going to be okay. She must have been so scared, and I couldn’t even comfort her.”
Brody scratches at his chin for a moment, letting the silence weigh down on us, digesting what I’ve said before responding. Finally, he says, “When Heather died, I wished the same thing. I felt guilty I wasn’t there to hold her hand. I wasn’t there in her last moments.”
When I look at him, his eyes are planted on Savanna, and I wonder if he sees her, or if he’s seeing Heather. “I didn’t think I would survive the guilt of it. I let it consume me, and fuck man,” he pauses, grimacing. “I wanted it to consume me. I didn’t think I deserved anything more.”
My heart goes out to him. Brody never really talked about what he went through after Heather died, choosing to freeze us all out as he worked through it himself. And he did, to a point, though he’s never been the same.
“Feels like if you’d just been able to protect her, keep her safe, everything would be okay,” I say quietly, running a hand through my hair. “That’s how I feel. If I’d been better, she’d be okay. She wouldn’t be stuck in a hospital bed. I just keep coming back to the same damn thing, man. This is all my fault.”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Brody says sternly. His eyes are trained on me, hard and unwavering. “There is only one person to blame for all of this, and that son of a bitch is dead. This wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t Savanna’s. This is all on him.”
I breathe out a sigh. “I wish believing that was as easy as saying it.”
“You can’t let the guilt destroy you. You’ve just got to be happy she’s still alive.”
I look at him, contemplating what he’s said, what he shared about Heather, and how he felt afterwards. “How did you get over the guilt?”
Brody laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Who said I did?”
“Heather dying wasn’t your fault,” I say, frowning. “You weren’t driving the car.”
He gives me a pained smile, and I can see then that he still lives with guilt every day of his life. It’s not something I normally see in him, but maybe that’s because he hides it so well none of us see it.
“But I should have been.” He rubs his hands together for a moment then leans forward, elbows on his knees, his fingers tented in front of his lips. “Do you think she’d want you to be sitting here beating yourself up for what happened?”
I bark out a surprised laugh. “No.” I sigh, reaching my hand out to run my fingers over hers as I gaze at the cast she’s in. “She’d probably give me shit if she knew the things I was thinking.”
Then she’d make me forget all about it.
“Then maybe you should give her what she wants without her having to tell you,” he suggests.
I wave a finger at him. “You’re a wise man, Mr. James. A very wise man.”
He smiles in acknowledgement, and we lapse into another silence.
Brody, to my surprise, is the first one to break it. “What do you want to do about the auction?”
I curse under my breath, scrubbing my free hand over my face. The auction is the lowest thing on my priority list right now. It shouldn’t be, because the bar is screwed without the money that will potentially come from it, but I don’t know if I can deal with it. Don’t know if my heart has the strength. The auction was Savanna’s baby. Sure, she asked for my approval on this or that while she planned, but she was the one with all the knowledge of it.
My answer might be different if I could just see her eyes, but in the dreary hospital room with the machines beeping, the cords strung all over, and the distant sound of voices down the hall, I tell him, “Cancel it.”
While I hated that it was Brody with his perceptive eyes, keen sense, and wise words, I’m grateful it’s him now, rather than Liam. The latter would have fought me on it, but Brody just nods his acquiescence and lets me be.
I know he’s letting me soak it all in, to stew in his words about guilt and the auction, but my thoughts drift from what happened today to what Brody’s gone through, and after a few minutes I say, “It wasn’t your fault man. No matter what you might think, it wasn’t your fault.”
Rather than agree with me, he just gives me a smile, this time a placating one. I know he doesn’t believe me. “Thanks man. Appreciate that.”
The next day, I stay away as long as I can, but I can’t be away from her any longer. With a coffee in hand, I’m headed back to Savanna’s room after leaving her bedside when her family got into town.
It was awkward at best to begin with, them not knowing me, me not knowing them. I could tell they were a little hesitant about me, and who could blame them, with everything she’d been through. They all but threw me out within the first half hour they’d been there, telling me to go home and get some sleep since I’d been at her side since she’d gotten out of surgery the day before.
Out of respect, I conceded without much of a fight. It wasn’t that I wanted to leave her, but I know they needed some time to be with her after all this time, and after everything that had happened.
Jordan and Bryn had brought my truck up to the hospital in San Jose the night before, along with some dinner, so I made the trek back to my place in Santa Rosé where I slept for a couple of hours. I did more tossing and turning than sleeping, though. I laid there for ages, thinking about how cold the bed was without Savanna beside me, lonely without her pressing against my chest, and devoid of any laughter and happiness without her smiling face.
I think under normal circumstances, being without her would have been tolerable, but given what we’d gone through the last thirty-six hours, and few weeks as a whole, it was my own personal hell. I don’t want to live without this woman. Today, tomorrow, the rest of my life.
I half wish she was in the hospital in Santa Rosé. At least then I’d know people who I could hang out with, sort of, without being in Savanna’s room. Close enough I could check in every once in a while and still give her family the space they needed.
Then again, she wouldn’t have gotten the same treatment in Santa Rosé as she got in a trauma center in the big city. I’m grateful for that treatment. Grateful to the surgeons that put her back together, and the nurses taking care of her. I’m grateful to my family and friends who have reached out with an outpouring of love and support, offering to bring me food, help with the bar, and look after anything that either of us might need.
I’ve always known I have an amazing circle around me, a second family within the firehouse, but the last day and a half of my life have really shown me how special everyone is, and how lucky I truly am.
The great thing about the hours I keep at the bar, and at the firehouse, is that I won’t have a problem taking the night shift with Savanna. It’s not quite dinnertime, but now that I’m back at the hospital, I’m here to stay until at least the morning, hence the coffee in my hand.
I nod at the nurses as I walk by and then head into Savanna’s room, hoping to find the woman I love sitting up and laughing with her brothers and her father. Disappointment assails me when I see her still laying there, the tubes and wires still connected, the sound of the machines still monitoring her.
One brother sits in a chair at her side, head bowed as he looks at his phone that’s plugged into the wall. Connor.
Sensing my presence, he looks up, dirty blonde hair, a few shades darker than Savanna’s, tousled like he’s been running his hands through it all day. He gives me a nod when he recognizes me.
I nod back, taking the chair opposite him, on the other side of Savanna’s bed. “Any change?”
He shakes his head. “No. I would have let you know.”
I nod with appreciation. Connor swore he’d let me know if there were any changes in her condition, and I’m glad he mentions it now. Meeting the family with Savanna being out cold might have been awkward, but I like him. Out of the three of them, Connor seemed the most welcoming of me.
“You the only one around?” I ask.
“Yeah. Dev took Dad back to the hotel for a bit. This has all been a lot for him.” Setting his phone down on the arm of his chair, he regards me thoughtfully. “It’s been a lot for all of us. Especially her. I’m glad she had you looking out for her.”
I wave my hand, brushing off the comment. My eyes drop to where her arm with the fractured collarbone and dislocated shoulder is in a sling, the other in a cast. “Nothing to be glad for when she still ended up like this.”
I can feel Connor’s eyes burning a hole into me, but I don’t give in to the need to look at him. I don’t need to see the reprehensible look in his eyes. Or maybe worse—pity.
“She told me you were the one that got her to call home. That true?”
My eyes flash up to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. I didn’t realize she’d shared that with her family. I made it clear to her it wasn’t me that got her to do anything. “She made a choice to call.”
Connor laughs like I’ve told him something absurd, shaking his head at me. “Man, she told me you were smart,” he says like he doesn’t believe it, and I’m not sure if I should be offended.
“Savanna didn’t realize she had a choice. In her mind, the only choice was keeping herself away from us. You made her open her eyes.” Connor leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he keeps his gaze on me. “If it weren’t for you, we still wouldn’t know where she was, or what she was doing. Besides being in Santa Rosé, anyway, thanks to that video.”
I drop my head backwards and look up at the ceiling. “That fuckin’ video.”
“As much as I never wanted to see my sister in her underwear, that fuckin’ video got her in touch with us, so I don’t view it as a bad thing,” he says gratefully.
I can’t agree with him. That video is what ultimately led Vincent to her, of that, I’m sure. It was the catalyst in putting her into this hospital bed.
I only found out the day of the video she hadn’t talked to her family since before she left, but I’m convinced I could have gotten her to call them if I’d had a little time. I know I could have made her feel comfortable enough she would have called them. Or we could have taken a weekend trip to Nevada, or Washington, and called them from there.
So I can’t feel good about the video. Not when she’s lying in a hospital bed with injuries I can’t fix with a first aid kit.
Connor must take my silence as a disagreement. “I get it, man. The video brought Vincent here. We all think it, even if we don’t know it for sure. But have you thought maybe it’s better this way? That piece of shit is dead now. He can’t hurt Savanna.”
Reaching for a water bottle on the bedside table, he opens the cap to take a sip, but first adds, “If that means she’s a little worse for wear for a bit, I gotta say, I’ll take it. Not trying to be a dick, but I’d rather this,” he gestures towards her, “than him still being out there hunting her down.”
Everything he said makes me want to lurch out of my chair, get in his face, and demand he take it back. My fingers curl around the arms of my chair until my knuckles turn white. It’s hard to see it that way. Every instinct tells me protecting Savanna, keeping every hair on her head injury free, is the way things need to work for me to be okay in life. It tears me apart inside to see her laying in this bed, hooked up to monitors, in a cast, in a sling, her face beat up and bruised all to hell.
But maybe, just maybe, Connor has a point. One I hadn’t considered before.
I think of the times Savanna was triggered around me, the look on her face, and in her eyes. She was petrified. And then there was the day at the taqueria where she passed out in my arms from the panic attack, caused because she thought Vincent would be able to find her with the video out there.
That’s what she was living with. Every day she had to deal with the fear he would turn up. She always had to look over her shoulder. That isn’t any way to live. I experienced it for a fraction of what she did, and I hated to see how it affected her. Going through weeks, months, or years, would have been impossible.
“I might be able to agree after she wakes up, but until then…” I trail off, releasing a breath that says it all, running a hand through my hair.
“Yeah,” he sighs heavily, sounding as tired as I feel. “I hear you.”
We’re both silent for a while, lost in our own thoughts, before Connor says, “She told me everything you did for her. For the record, I like you. We all do.”
Giving him a brief smile, I nod in acknowledgement. “That’s a good thing, because I’d really like to be a big part of her life if she’ll continue to have me.”
Connor laughs, takes a sip of his water, then puts it back on the table. “Man, if you heard her talk about you, you’d know she’d have you for as long as you’ll have her. And as much as we’d all like to see her come home, I think we all feel pretty good about her staying here if you’re around.”
That warms me from the inside out. It also lifts a weight that’s been sitting on my chest I didn’t realize I was carrying around. I feel it leave almost instantly, and despite everything, I’m grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe.”
“Good,” he says, settling back into his chair with a smile. “I’d prefer not to beat your ass, but don’t think I won’t if you hurt her.”
“I’d let you,” I tell him, and mean it.