Chapter 20 #2
The people hunting me found her and used her to send a message. All my careful planning, my security measures, and my attempts to keep her safe by keeping her at arm’s length, none of it mattered.
They found her anyway. And now our child is dead because of it. She’ll never forgive me for this, and I don’t blame her.
My chest caves in as guilt tumbles over me in waves. This is my fault. Not the driver’s. Not some random accident. Mine. Because I brought danger into her life and then left her alone to face it.
Cash clears his throat. “If you can’t be the man she needs, I’m gonna be there for her. And I won’t stop.”
“This is not the time to threaten me, Cash.” My shoulders expand. “I’m going to be the one she leans on. She loves me.”
“You sure?”
“Very. She told me yesterday during our conversation.” I stand and peer down at him. “And come to think of it, she knows I love her because I told her. So you can take your warning and shove it up your ass.”
He gets to my level with his chest flexing. “You’re forgetting something.”
“Nothing that matters.”
“She loves me too, Jaxon. And that matters very much to me.”
My phone buzzes again. Another update from Axel. They’ve identified the make and model of the SUV from traffic cameras. A Chevy Tahoe, black, and untraceable.
This screams it was a professional, organized hit. Exactly what I feared.
They’re going to come after her again. The realization settles in my bones like ice. Before I can respond, the double doors swing open.
A doctor in blue scrubs steps into the waiting room, his expression neutral but tired. He’s older, maybe sixty, with gray hair and steady hands that have probably seen countless emergencies.
“I’m Dr. Smith.” He sweeps his gaze around the empty room, then back to Cash and me. “You two must be here for the alias, Bridget Parks.”
“Livianna Hemings.” I step forward, my heart pounding against my ribs. “How is she?”
“She’s stable.” He fidgets with a mask he’s holding. “We’ve completed the initial evaluation and moved her to a private room. The concussion is severe, but there’s no brain bleeding. Her other injuries are manageable. We’re optimistic about her recovery.”
My muscles relax in an instant as relief floods through me with such vigor that I almost have to stabilize myself by grabbing hold of his arm. “Can I see her?”
“There’s something you should know first.” Dr. Smith’s expression shifts to something more complicated. “She woke up for a moment as we were getting her settled in the room.”
My pulse spikes. “And?”
“She was confused and disoriented, which is normal with head trauma of this severity.” He pauses, his gaze moving between us. “Which one of you is Callum?”
His question takes me aback.
Cash steps in front of me. “I’m Callum.”
Dr. Smith waves toward the double metal doors. “She’s asking for you. Come with me.”
“Wait.” I claim the space between Cash and Dr. Smith. “I’m her partner. Not him.”
The doctor halts, and his face screws up in confusion. Cash whips around to face me, but before he can say anything, Dr. Smith jumps in.
“Excuse me?” He glances between us. “I don’t understand. She specifically asked for Callum.”
“Because she’s disoriented from the head trauma.” I close the distance between us. “I’m Jaxon Crowne. I’ve been in a relationship with Livianna Hemings for over two years. He’s her ex-boyfriend from five years ago.”
Cash moves into my space, his back straightening. “She asked for me. Not you.”
“She’s confused. She doesn’t know what she’s saying right now.” All my fight roars to life. “Did you not hear Dr. Smith? He just got done telling us she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Or maybe she knows exactly what she’s saying and you can’t handle it.” Cash’s breathing picks up. “Maybe she wants the person who was actually there for her when she needed someone.”
That does it. I square off with him. “You were there for maybe two weeks. I’ve been there for over two years.”
“Have you?” Cash gets closer, forcing the doctor to step back.
“Gentlemen, please.” The doctor raises his hands. “I can’t allow either of you in if you’re going to—”
“Dr. Pembrook.” I cut him off, my tone shifting to the one I use in boardrooms when negotiations aren’t going my way. “He and I have worked on donations I’ve given to the hospital.”
“I…” Dr. Smith swallows hard. “Yes, Mr. Crowne. Now that you mention it, I’m aware of your support.”
“Then I’m sure he’d be interested to know that one of his doctors is preventing me from seeing my partner based on the confused ramblings of a woman with severe head trauma.”
Cash’s eyes narrow. “Are you seriously threatening this man right now?”
“No, I’m clarifying the situation.” I don’t break eye contact with Dr. Smith. “Livianna Hemings is my girlfriend. I’m the one who should be updated on her condition. I’m the one who needs to be in that room when she wakes up.”
“This is bullshit.” Cash points to the ICU. “You don’t get to use your money and your connections to push your way into her room.”
“And you don’t get to use her medical condition to claim a relationship that ended five years ago.” My muscles grow tense. “She asked for you because she’s disoriented. When she’s coherent, she’ll want me.”
Cash growls. “You don’t know that.”
“I know she told me she loved me yesterday, and she was on her way to meet me when this happened. She was carrying my child.” The last words come out strained. “So yes, Cash, I know.”
The silence that follows is thick enough to suffocate all of us. Dr. Smith shifts uncomfortably, clearly trying to figure out how to navigate this disaster without losing his job.
“Mr. Crowne, I understand this is a difficult situation for both of you.” The doctor’s tone is careful. “But hospital policy states that we follow the patient’s expressed wishes when they’re conscious.”
I’m not about to give up, so I push more. “She has a severe concussion. She doesn’t know what she wants.”
“That may be true, but I can’t make that determination without further evaluation.
” He waits a beat, then sighs. “However, given the complexity of the situation and your relationship with Dr. Pembrook, I’m willing to allow you both in to see her.
But if she becomes agitated or distressed, you’ll both need to leave immediately. ”
Cash’s shoulders tense. “Fine.”
“Agreed.” I straighten my jacket, forcing my hands to stop shaking.
“Follow me.” The doctor gestures toward the ICU area. “And gentlemen? Whatever issues you have with each other, leave them outside her room. My patient’s well-being is my only priority.”
We follow him through the doors, two men walking toward the same destination with completely different expectations of what we’ll find when we get there.
The hallway stretches ahead, sterile and cold. Each step feels heavier than the last. Somewhere in one of these rooms, Livianna is waking up from one of the worst days of her life.
And she asked for Cash. Why?
The question sits in my chest like a stone. Maybe she does know what she wants. Maybe in her most vulnerable moment, when everything else had been stripped away, she chose him.
“She’s in here.” Dr. Smith stops outside her room. “But I’ve changed my mind about who can go in right now.”