CHAPTER 7 #3
He hung up and returned to her side, the agony in his ribs excruciating as he crouched down beside her. He felt strange, as if he weren’t really the one living this hell.
He took her hand, alarmed by how cold and clammy it was. “Hang on, Mom. They’re on their way.”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes turned glassy.
He swallowed against the lump rising in his throat as her eyelids drifted shut. “Please hang on,” he whispered.
It seemed like a lifetime before the ambulance siren wailed faintly in the distance.
Nick awakened with a start, his heart slamming in his chest, adrenaline shooting like jolts of electricity through his belly and down his legs.
The nightmare.
Again.
Fuck.
Lifting his head, he glanced around.
Hospital room.
Jannie.
He sat upright so fast, his head spun.
She was still asleep.
He exhaled a harsh breath. Violet light filtered through the slats of the shutters, providing just enough illumination. Nick checked his watch: 6:00 a.m.
Rising and rubbing his sore back, he used the bathroom, washed his hands, and splashed water on his face. He’d have to find a toothbrush. Thank God he didn’t need to shave.
Drying his hands with a paper towel, Nick pushed the door open.
Jannie was awake. And she was staring straight at him.
Something stirred in his chest at the sight of the sadness in her eyes. He silently moved closer, reaching out to touch her shoulder, but hesitated. “May I sit?”
Jannie shrugged. Though she said nothing, her posture and demeanor told him more than any spoken words.
Several moments passed in silence. “Do you want me to leave?” he finally asked softly.
Please say no.
She shook her head.
He pulled the chair closer to her bedside.
For a while, he just sat quietly. He had encountered grief before, but it involved friends losing older relatives. This was a thousand times worse, throwing him into a situation he’d never faced. He didn’t know what to say.
At long last, her beautiful eyes sought his, searching, and he watched with a heavy heart as she licked her lips and swallowed hard. “They’re gone.”
Such weight in only two words.
His head did some sort of jerky motion that passed for acknowledgment.
Her face was a blank mask, her beautiful blue eyes vacant. “Could you please open the shutters?”
“Sure.”
Nick rose and went to the window, unlatching and pushing the white louvered panels aside.
He stared out at the hospital courtyard, fists clenching and unclenching.
He’d been too late.
“Nick.”
His truck had been right outside with the valet. He should have driven her himself instead of waiting for that ambulance.
He’d failed.
Again.
“Nick,” Jannie repeated.
He turned, stood there for a moment, then dragged his gaze up to find her staring with infinite sorrow in her deep blue eyes.
“Don’t blame yourself. There was no saving them.”
How did she know what he was thinking? “I should have—”
“No.” She looked beyond him at the lavender Las Vegas morning sky. “I’ve suspected for a while but hoped I was mistaken.”
So, she’d seen signs. Nick lowered his head and swallowed. It had to be damned tough when you knew so much.
He moved to stand beside her bed. “I’m sorry.” All he could say, really.
Her face was immobile. But her eyes … his heart turned over as he saw the shimmer of unshed tears in her beautiful sapphire gaze.
She blinked hard. He watched in awe as the tears retracted. The woman was so strong that she even held her tear ducts under firm control.
“I haven’t felt movement at all.”
“I see.”
She reached out, her fingers closing firmly around his forearm. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me.”
“I won’t,” he said, knowing damned well it was a lie.
She let go of his arm. “How did they let you stay?”
He smiled a little. “I said I was your husband.”
“Oh.”
“How did you fill out the intake paperwork?”
“I got help.”
Her eyes grew very wide, then narrowed. “You called my brothers?”
“Only one.”
Oh, she looked pissed.
Why? He knew her family was close. Very close. He’d thought she’d want them around her for support.
“Crap,” she muttered. “Good thing they’re in Munich.” She shook her head. “Which one did you call?”
“I texted Adam. I had his card. He wrote his cell number on the back.”
She closed her eyes and sighed. “Thank you for … everything.”
I didn’t do anything.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done, but …”
Ah. There was a but.
Her voice was flat.
“I need to process this alone.”
His heart sank. She was pushing him away. He sat there, trying to think of something, anything, that he could say to convince her to let him stay. Let him help her get through this. Care for her.
“I feel overwhelmed right now and need some space.”
His throat closed. “I understand.”
He stood, a bitter smile on his lips. He thought to reach for her hand, then thought better of it. “Adam has my number. Anything you need, call me.”
Jannie nodded, turning her gaze toward the window in evident dismissal. “Take care, Nick. You can go now.”
Her eyes reflected a world of pain. She had no intention of contacting him; he could tell. Heart leaden, Nick headed out, the click of his shoes on the tile floor sounding like a drumbeat of impending doom.