Chapter Twenty-Six
All Bree could do for the first few moments after falling to the ground with Tanner was breathe.
Every breath seemed to stab her lungs like a blade, but at least she had air. He’d saved her, by finding the superhuman strength to support her while she hacked at the rope.
“Tanner!” She yelled his name when he didn’t move at all, but the sound was barely more than a whisper. She felt for a pulse, sobbing silently in relief when she found one.
The bungalow floor was covered with so much of his blood.
Way too much of it. She didn’t want to leave him for a second but knew she had to get help here as soon as possible.
She crawled over to the phone and called the front desk, screaming as loudly as she could—which still meant they could barely hear her—for them to call for an ambulance.
She struggled back to him, forcing down the panic every time she slipped in his blood, and pulled his unconscious form into her arms, holding pressure on his wounds as best she could. There were so, so many.
She was going to lose him.
She struggled so often with finding the proper emotions for a situation. But not this time. This time she knew exactly what she felt: mind-crushing fear.
But his heart kept beating. She whispered everything she could think of in his ear as she held him waiting for the paramedics to arrive.
Promises of everything she wanted to do with him.
Marry him. Have babies with him. Travel the world but still always come home to the ranch.
She wanted to be there with him when Star had puppies, and her puppies had puppies.
And she wanted sex. There was so much sex she wanted with him.
She told him over and over that she loved him and he was her hero.
When she ran out of promises, she moved on to threats. Threatening to illegally hack into every database in the country if he died and left her alone. To send secret messages to Whitaker about what she was doing so he would come arrest her.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the paramedics arrived.
Letting them take Tanner from her was the hardest thing she’d ever done. How could she will his heart to continue beating if he was out of her sight? But she knew she had to let them take him. Help him.
“We are a team, Tanner Dempsey!” She was trying for a yell, but her ravaged voice came out as a croak. “It takes both of us to be a team.”
A second set of paramedics insisted on looking at her wounds and refused to let her drive when she tried to stumble toward the door and get to Tanner’s car. She wanted to scream at them to leave her alone, but her voice was completely useless by that point.
When they started talking about taking her to a different hospital than they’d taken Tanner, she began to panic. She couldn’t communicate without her voice, and no one was willing to listen to what she was trying to say or figure out what she wanted.
She wanted to be near Tanner. She didn’t care if the other hospital had strangled-people specialists.
She had to be near Tanner. She could feel the agitation building at her inability to communicate.
When her tears fell and she began to pull away from everyone, they thought she was in shock and started talking about sedating her.
As if she couldn’t hear as well as couldn’t speak.
Ironically, it was Whitaker, who showed up a few minutes later to help process the crime scene, who finally made the difference. He got down on the ground next to her where she sat, covered in Tanner’s blood, and asked her what she needed.
Tanner. She mouthed it to him over and over until he finally nodded.
After Ryan was cuffed and taken away in his own ambulance, Whitaker left the crime scene to his colleagues, since it wasn’t his jurisdiction anyway, and rode with Bree in the ambulance to the same hospital as Tanner.
The paramedics had once more tried to talk her into going to the other facility, but it was Whitaker who’d laid a hand on her shoulder and firmly told the paramedics no. So as far as she was concerned, Whitaker no longer held the status of ass hat.
Of course, he made her get checked out by the doctors before taking her to see Tanner, so he was still in the general ass vicinity. But maybe just jackass.
The doctor had checked out her throat, declared her very lucky to not have a crushed windpipe, announced it would take weeks of discomfort and blah, blah, blah, but that Bree should make a full recovery.
As soon as she knew her injuries weren’t life-threatening, she’d demanded to use Whitaker’s—whom she couldn’t seem to get rid of now—phone and typed out one word.
Tanner.
She already knew her throat was in bad shape.
She could feel the razor blades every time she swallowed or breathed too deeply.
She’d wanted to be with Tanner. She agreed to let them admit her so they could treat her throat and help her manage the pain, as long as they agreed not to keep her from Tanner if he needed her.
She didn’t even know if he was alive. Would someone have come and told her if he’d died? She began getting agitated again.
Whitaker sighed and procured a wheelchair to wheel her into the trauma waiting room, while Bree went into the bathroom and cleaned as much blood off herself as possible.
It wasn’t until she was on her way into the waiting room that she wished she had her computer.
They weren’t going to let her near Tanner without being family.
If she had her computer, she could’ve changed files and made herself such an ironclad member of his family—at least on the screen—that nobody in this hospital would dare keep her away from him.
It would’ve been illegal, but so worth it.
She didn’t have to break any laws. When a nurse tried to tell Bree that this particular waiting area was for family only, Mrs. Dempsey, who was already there, stepped up and very clearly stated that Bree was family.
Noah and Cassandra echoing the sentiment brought tears to her eyes. She was saved from saying what would no doubt be the wrong thing by the fact that she couldn’t talk anyway. All she could do was collapse into Mrs. Dempsey’s arms as the older woman pulled her close.
“He’s going to be just fine,” Mrs. Dempsey whispered. “Just you watch. My boy has everything to live for now. He’s not going to give that up.”
Ended up she was right, although it didn’t look like it for the first forty-eight hours.
After the first few hours of sitting in the waiting room, Bree’s body was shaking with pain and fatigue. It was Noah who recognized it and came and squatted right in front of her, looking so much like Tanner it was a little painful.
“It’s time for you to get checked into your own room and deal with your own injuries.
I give you my word that if something happens with Tanner, for better or worse, I will personally carry you to him.
Even if I have to knock some doctors and orderlies unconscious to do it.
He’s going to need you. This isn’t going to be something he bounces back from right away.
The best thing you can do to help him is to regather your strength while he’s out. ”
Bree finally nodded. She was in a hospital room and pumped full of medications less than an hour later.
When she woke up the next morning, Dan and Cheryl were sitting in the room with her.
She couldn’t talk to them, but her eyes filled with tears once again when they explained that nobody in Risk Peak wanted her to be alone.
A member of the Dempsey family came by and reported in once an hour, to let her know how Tanner was doing.
Stable, but not awake. Always stable, but not awake.
She borrowed Whitaker’s phone when he came by again and backdoored her way into the hospital system.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the Dempseys; she just had to see the information about Tanner for herself.
Tanner’s patient file basically said the same thing the Dempseys had been reporting, but in medical jargon: stable, but not awake.
On the second day, when Tanner started to stir but not quite wake, he mumbled Bree’s name. True to his word, Noah was back in her room to get her and bring her to Tanner. Fortunately, he didn’t have to knock anyone unconscious, since she was doing so much better.
She rushed to Tanner’s bed. “I’m here,” she whispered.
She wrapped her fingers in his, and he immediately fell back into a more restful state.
He was in and out for two days after that. It was so obvious that he did better when Bree was around him—slept more deeply, had a more even heart rate and blood pressure—that the doctors didn’t try to insist she not stay.
Every medical professional who had come in contact with him, from the paramedics to the surgeons, had stated that it was a miracle Tanner was even alive anyway.
So the fact that his unconscious mind could seem to sense her presence, and his body rest and heal itself better with her near, seemed much less impressive, all things considered.
Bree was officially released from the hospital after two days. She’d stayed by Tanner’s side the entire time except for when Cassandra, with the muscle of Noah, had forced Bree to go home to her apartment, take a shower and grab some clothes.
Bree and Cassandra had had plenty of hours to talk—well, mostly Cassandra talked and Bree listened since she couldn’t say more than a few sentences at a time—about plans for the shelter and the computer classes Bree could offer.
Cassandra wanted to start the classes as soon as possible. Bree, not even counting her voice, wasn’t quite so gung ho. But like Cassandra said, the skills and hope they were providing these women couldn’t wait. Bree’s discomfort wasn’t what was important.
“Of course, we’ll wait until you can speak louder than a whisper,” Cassandra said with a smile from across Tanner’s hospital room. “You’re probably a more effective instructor if people can actually hear you.”