Chapter 31 - Jensen
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Jensen
Everything comes back all at once, like an electric shock to the system. My body jolts as my eyes fly open, and I gasp, blinking against the bright fluorescent lights overhead.
Callie.
It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m lying on a hospital bed that’s semi-propped up in a small emergency room bay separated from the others by a thick blue curtain that’s been pulled shut for my privacy. A bag of fluids hangs from a metal hook next to the bed and attaches to an IV in my hand.
My boots are sitting next to the bed, but when I swing my legs over and reach for them, the movement causes a burning pain in my neck and back. I reach around, feeling for the source, and find several of patches of thick gauze covering what I assume to be fresh stitches.
Gritting my teeth, I rip the IV out and stand up, wobbling as more pain shoots up my left leg.
My knee has been wrapped in a thick black brace for support, but it still nearly gives out on me when I put weight on it.
I’m not sure I can walk, but I have to try.
I have to find Callie—even if it means I have to crawl to her side.
No one stops me as I shove the blue curtain aside and limp into a brightly lit hallway.
Nurses and doctors buzz around, moving quickly from bay to bay as they tend to patients with injuries from the storm.
I’m almost to the end of the hallway, close to the nurse’s station, when the double doors open, and Sutton breezes through, her normally smiling face drawn into a tight line.
“Shep!” She nearly drops the cafeteria coffee she’s holding when she sees me hobbling toward her. She hurries to my side, throwing my arm over her shoulder to help take some of my weight. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be—”
“Where’s Callie? I pulled her out of the house, but I passed out and I don’t know what happened after that. Is she here? Is she okay?” The words come out in one big breath.
“She’s here,” Sutton says, but the look she gives me is far from reassuring. My good knee starts to buckle and Sutton yelps a little as I sag against her. “We have to take you back to your room. You’re still recovering.”
“No,” I shake my head. “I have to find Callie. You have to take me to her right now.”
“Shep, I . . . ” Sutton’s eyes fill with tears. “I can’t take you to her. They won’t let anyone see her right now. Mabel’s out in the waiting room. The doctor is supposed to come update her soon.”
“I want to talk to the doctor,” I say, taking an uneven step toward the doors.
Sutton looks like she wants to argue with me, but something in my expression stops her. She just gives me a little nod and wraps an arm around my waist to help me walk.
“Ethan?” I ask, trying not to wince at the pain in my leg as we walk.
“He’s okay, a little shaken up, I think.” Sutton lets out a breath. “We both are.” She squeezes me a little tighter as we walk.
Out in the waiting room, it’s practically standing room only.
Half the population of Dayton Springs seems packed into the cramped space, all wearing identical expressions of exhaustion and worry.
I spot Mabel in the corner, sitting with her head in her hands.
A man I don’t know, wearing a backward baseball cap, is sitting next to her, his hand on her back.
Mabel’s head pops up when she hears us shuffling closer, tears immediately spilling over her cheeks when she sees me .
“Jensen, oh my god,” she hops up and gives me a gentle hug, pulling back to look me over. “Are you okay?”
“It looks worse than it is,” I wave away her concern. “Have you heard anything? How is she?”
“I don’t know,” Mabel’s lower lip trembles as she swipes at her cheeks. “The last I heard they were going to set her leg and stabilize it, but it’s not her leg they’re worried about.”
The image of Callie lying prone on the basement floor flashes before my eyes. The blood coating her face and neck. “Her head?”
Mabel nods. “They don’t know what happened exactly, but they said it was some kind of blunt force trauma. They aren’t sure how serious it is yet. They were going to run some scans on her, but their main concern is a possible brain bleed.”
A brain bleed. The words make my stomach roll with nausea. “When will we hear something?”
“They said they’ll update us once she’s back from getting the CT scan.” Mabel lets out a slow quivering breath. “That was a while ago though, and every time I ask for an update, no one will tell me anything. I’m just so worried and I—”
A wave of tears steals the rest of Mabel’s sentence, and the man in the hat stands up, coming to Mabel’s side. “I’m sure they’ll let us know something soon, Mabeloo. It’s all going to be okay.”
“Is it?” Mabel snaps, though she doesn’t push away the hand he lays on her arm. If anything, she seems to lean in a little, using the stranger for support.
The pet name makes my eyebrows lift, and both Sutton and I share a look.
“Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself.” The man holds out his hand for me to shake. “I’m Sullivan Rowe. Mabel’s husband.”
It takes me a second to recover before I can shake his hand. “Husband?”
“Ex-husband,” Mabel pipes up, looking annoyed.
Sullivan gives her a wide grin. “Aw, honey, it’s so cute when you say that.”
“Ex-husband,” Mabel insists, rolling her eyes. “I have divorce papers that prove it.”
“Papers that require both of our signatures, darlin’, and last time I checked, those papers were missing my John Hancock,” Sullivan fires back, although his tone is more playful than anything else. Mabel, on the other hand, looks like she’s two seconds away from junk punching the guy.
At that moment, a nurse appears, wearing light blue scrubs. “Callie Carpenter’s family?”
Mabel’s entire demeanor changes. “Yes, that’s us. How is she?”
“The doctor will be stopping by to see you shortly, but I can take you to see her.” The nurse eyes our little group. “There’s a limit of two visitors in the ICU.”
Intensive Care Unit. My stomach rolls over again. Every nerve in my body feels like it’s on edge, like my skin is the only thing holding me together. I need to see Callie, need to lay my hands on her, hear the doctor say that she’s going to be okay.
My lungs tighten, and for a moment, it’s hard to breathe. Intensive Care Unit.
My old shadows start creeping out from wherever they’ve been hiding, slinking toward me. My heart begins to race. Intensive Care Unit .
Mabel and I follow the nurse through the crowded hallway of the hospital. I want to run, to beg the nurse to go faster, but I’m barely able to limp along.
When we arrive outside Callie’s room, the nurse nods at the closed door. “You can go in if you want, but one at a time, please.”
Mabel gives me a little smile. “Why don’t you go first?” She points to a chair just outside the door. “I’ll wait here for the doctor.”
Despite how much I know she wants to see her cousin, she’s giving me this time with Callie. I nod, unable to find the words to tell her thank you.
Grimacing, I push open the door. Seeing Callie in that bed, pale and unmoving nearly sends me to my knees. I limp closer, falling into a chair that’s been placed close to her side and reach for hand. “Callie? It’s me. Can you hear me?”
She’s so pale, even her sun-kissed hair seems to have lost its usual luster and shine. There’s a bandage above her left eye, and already the skin on that side of her face is beginning to turn a deep shade of purple. She doesn’t respond to my voice and her hand is limp and clammy.
“Please.” I lean in, pressing my forehead to her arm. “Please, Callie. You have to be okay. I need you to be okay. Please, just open your eyes.”
A thick knot rises in my throat and I swallow once, twice. “Please,” I choke out, barely above a whisper.
“ . . . set the leg and put it in a temporary cast, but we need to wait until the swelling goes down to determine if she needs surgery.” A deep voice floats toward me from outside in the hallway.
“But, of course, the head injury is the bigger concern. Our initial scans show a localized brain contusion with moderate cerebral edema. ”
“What does that mean exactly?” Mabel asks, her voice shaky.
“Your cousin has received a traumatic brain injury to her frontal lobe, and there’s some pretty significant swelling.
That’s not uncommon for this type of injury, but so far the swelling hasn’t responded much to medication—which is concerning.
Cerebral edema like this causes pressure to build up in the brain, and if it doesn’t resolve on its own, it has to be surgically relieved. ”
I can’t move or breathe as I listen. My heart is in my throat.
“We’ve inserted a tiny device, an intracranial pressure monitor into her skull to help us track the edema. The next 24-48 hours are critical, so we’ll be observing her condition very closely.”
Mabel sniffs, once and then twice, as if she’s trying to keep the tears at bay. “What happens if the swelling doesn’t go down?”
“Then there’s a chance of herniation in the brain which would be . . . detrimental. There’s no indication of that just now, but like I said, we’ll need to keep an eye on things. Brain injuries can be quite unpredictable.”
Fear, cold and sharp as a knife, slices through me. Significant. Concerning. Critical. Unpredictable. Detrimental.
Nothing the doctor said makes sense to me. How is it possible that just this morning, Callie was in my arms, laughing and smiling? I was holding her in my arms, kissing her in the supply closet at the shop, and now she’s lying in this bed with a potentially life-threatening brain injury.
I run through the day’s events, painstakingly replaying every minute, trying to understand how everything could go from blissfully perfect to devastating in a single day.
“I was thinking of going to Mabel’s. She’s supposed to be getting off soon, and I’ve been promising her some hangout time. Why? Need something?”
“I was just going to ask if you could stop by the farmhouse and check on Peaches? She hates storms and I try not to leave her alone if I can help it. But don’t worry about it. We’ll probably have to close up shop early, and she’ll be okay until I get there.”
“That’s right, poor baby. You know what? Why don’t I just go hang out with her? I can hang with Mabel another day.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Besides, I hear some hot mechanic might be getting off early and will be available for couch snuggling.”
Our last conversation rings in my head, playing on a loop.
“Oh my god.”
I shake my head back and forth, not wanting to believe it, but the proof of what I’ve done is lying in the bed right in front of me.
My entire body starts to tremble. “It’s my fault.”
The words taste like sawdust on my tongue, and everything inside me recoils.
Callie was planning to go to Mabel’s bungalow after she left the auto shop, but I asked her to check on Peaches. I’d sent her to the farmhouse.
She’s here because of me .
It’s as if all the air has been sucked out of the room, and I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest. Beneath my fingertips, my heart pounds.
What if I hadn’t gotten there in time? What if the brain swelling doesn’t go down? What if she…
I shake my head, refusing to let myself finish that thought. But even as I force it away, willing myself to think about something else, anything else, a dozen worst-case scenarios spin to life in my mind, each once agonizing and unbearable.
“No, no, no,” I murmur, gripping Callie’s hand like my own life depends on it.
What if.
What if.
What if.
Those two little words seep into my thoughts like a poison. It spreads through my entire body until it feels like every muscle is contracted, pulled tight to its breaking point. My body, rejecting those two words, strains as I fight the panic clawing its way up my throat.
The shadows swoop in, sinking their claws into me with such force that I gasp again, straining for air. The weight of what could happen, the possibility of those two little words bears down on me such force, it feels like a thousand boulders have slammed into me.
I can’t move or speak. Everything is spinning. The room, my thoughts— I can’t make sense of anything other than the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.
I drop Callie’s hand. I can’t touch her, can’t be near her anymore. I doubt she’d even want me sitting here if she knew what I’d done. I shove away from the bed, standing on shaky legs, swaying as I try to find my balance.
Callie’s smile, her laugh, her touch. My brain is hurling memories at me, like a spray of bullets, each one slicing me to ribbons. But then it’s not just Callie. It’s Kase’s laugh thudding in my ears. It’s the slap of his hand on my shoulder. His goofy grin.
All my fault. All my fault. All my fault.
I can’t take it anymore. Tearing out of the room, I limp out into the hall, ignoring the agonizing pain in my leg. Mabel calls my name, but I don’t answer her, and I don’t stop moving. I can’t breathe. I have to get out of here.
I take the elevator down to the ground level, hurrying to the main entrance, ignoring the concerned looks of those I pass.
The glass double doors slide open automatically when I approach and I step outside.
It’s nearly midnight, but the parking lot is still full of cars and people.
The air smells like rain, but it’s barely drizzling, and I don’t even feel it as I step out from under the covered awning and shuffle toward the road.
It’s slightly easier to breathe outside, but the thread that’s holding me together is fraying fast. I bend over, placing my hands on my knees as I fight the anguish that has me in a chokehold. My vision blurs.
“Hey, you okay?”
I look up. There’s a teenager in a hatchback idling a few feet away from me. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He eyes me up and down and then nods at the hospital. “Are you sure, man? I can help you inside if you want. ”
“I just came from there.” I start to wave him off, but this kid may be my only chance to get out of here. My truck is still at the auto shop. “Do you think you can give me a ride?”
The teen nods and leans over to open the passenger door. “Sure. Where to?”
I hobble over, grimacing as I lower myself into the seat. It takes me a second to answer him. I can’t go home. I have no home to go to anymore . . . but I can’t stay here.
I rattle off an address and lean my head back as the hospital disappears behind us.