75. Chapter Seventy-Five
Chapter Seventy-Five
Kat
Iwas heading for the exit when my phone chimed.
It was an alert.
From the medical center.
Henry had done it. He’d added me to the list.
And he was there. And out of it enough that he hadn’t gotten his phone before going, and out of it enough that he wasn’t reaching out to me himself.
And it was bad enough that he was skipping all media duties.
That was REALLY bad.
I needed to go. To him.
But I didn’t have my paddock pass anymore. I didn’t have access to the paddock. Therefore, I didn’t have access to the medical center.
Oh, this was going to suck.
Because I didn’t know who else to call. Milo would be performing his media duties. ESPECIALLY if Henry wasn’t.
So, I called Basti.
“Have you decided you rolled over a little too easily?” he said in lieu of hello. I snorted.
“No,” I said sharply. He chuckled.
“Too bad. What can I help you with, then?” he asked, in a tone that told me he already knew. Of course he did. He was just going to make me say it. Fine. I didn’t have time for his games.
“I’m at the back entrance. And I don’t have my paddock pass anymore. I need you to come get me,” I started. I paused. I did, I knew that. I shouldn’t have. I was ashamed that I did. But this felt… demeaning. Like… begging.
But I needed to get in there. So, beg I would.
“Did you leave something behind?” he asked into my silence. I was probably reading too much into it, but it seemed as if he knew I’d left a LOT of things behind.
They just weren’t physical objects.
They were people.
Relationships.
“No, but I need to get to the medical center,” I said sharply. I didn’t need to explain myself to him. I didn’t work with him anymore, after all.
“Are you injured?” he asked calmly. He was calm because he knew I wasn’t injured. I sighed.
“I’m not and you know I’m not. I got an alert from the medical center that Henry’s there and wants me to come. He doesn’t know I don’t have a pass anymore,” I said in a panicked huff. This was taking way too fucking long.
“Come on,” I heard both through the phone and off to my left where the gate was being held open. I hung up and hurried in after Basti. I was glad he’d at least been moving while being so damn… Basti.
We were nearing the medical center, my legs moving twice as fast as Basti’s to keep up.
“Are you going to tell him?” he asked. I decided not to play games, because I needed to get in there.
“No. Not while he’s most likely sedated. That would be cruel,” I hedged. He gave me a long look.
“What would be cruel is leaving without YOU being the one that tells him,” he said pointedly.
I ignored him and hurried through the double doors.
Sandy was at the front desk again, no smile to be seen. She nodded for me to head back, but I would’ve known anyway. I could hear him from here. I winced and hurried back.
“I said I bloody well didn’t need pain meds. There. Now it doesn’t matter what you hung up there,” I heard my defiant Brit shout. Oh, dear. I burst into the room he was in, realizing knocking would’ve been a good idea, but I also knew he was about to make a break for it.
Hadn’t known he wasn’t here of his own accord.
Not surprised they forced him to come here.
“Mr. Beaumont, I really must insist. After you collapsed-“ the doctor started.
“You collapsed?” I asked sharply. The doctor and nurse turned to look at me in surprise, making a tunnel between them so I could see Henry.
His face was stark white, even against the white of the hospital-esque setting.
His cheeks looked a little gaunt, and the bags under his eyes stood out vividly.
Not to mention the bruising on his cheekbone.
The arm supporting his weight was trembling, and he fell backward against the inclined bed.
I pushed between the doctor and nurse to reach his side, taking deep breaths to ignore the trickle of blood down his arm.
The damn fool had ripped his IV out.
I tapped him lightly on the nose, noticing he was still sweating from the race. Normally, he wouldn’t be.
“You’re going to let them put the IV back in and bring you something to eat. In turn, they are going to give you the same sedatives they gave you the other day, and allow you to have some tea, too,” I said to him, turning to include the doctor and nurse when it was pertinent.
“Fine,” he grumbled, glaring past me. I had noticed I recognized neither of them. That was probably part of the problem.
“Now. You collapsed?” I asked him worriedly as the nurse got to work on his IV. I stared her down until she removed the current hanging bag. And even still until she got a new line and needle. Chances couldn’t be taken. Any accidental contamination could fuck him over.
“I was fine,” he huffed, turning his glare on the wall. Oh, he was grumpy today. Pain and getting second would do that to him.
I propped myself up on the edge of the bed, only one foot still on the floor. I pushed his sweaty hair out of his face, gently pulling his gaze over to me by his uninjured cheek. The glare softened when the only thing it was aimed at was me.
“Tell me,” I murmured, soft but unmovable. The nurse finished up reinserting his IV and cleaning up the little bit of blood he’d set free. He was getting the mild sedative again, and fluids. That was good.
She leaned over and plucked his hand up, putting the O2 monitor on his finger. From the long look she gave him, I thought maybe he’d already had it on once. He shifted slightly, groaning deeply. I looked up in alarm.
“If your O2 levels don’t come back up, you’ll need pain meds and a trip to the hospital,” she warned him. He gave her a dirty look. SIR. I glared at him until he relented.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help me. But you work in a bloody F1 paddock, do you not see how just pumping pain meds into a driver could be an issue?” he asked her. She sighed.
“Because you can’t take full breaths, your O2 levels are down to 87%. Below 85% is considered life-threatening,” she returned instead of answering his question. She turned to me.
“If you’re up to the task, he really needs the oxygen mask,” she said, trying to hand it to me.
I knew why he didn’t want it.
“Do you have the little tubes that go up the nose?” I asked her softly as an aside. She gave me a funny look.
“Those are quite uncomfortable, this is really much better,” she insisted. I insisted right back.
“Trust me.”
She handed it to me, and I put it on Henry without any fight from him. I heard her sigh again. Whether it was because we’d switched it or because it was me asking, the world may never know. But the important part was, he was getting oxygen. She finally left.
“Tell me,” I said again, pulling out my phone to order food and tea for him. Before realizing I didn’t have access anymore. I texted Basti instead. He responded immediately, saying it would be here soon.
“I climbed out of the car and my foot caught and I almost fell. But I DIDN’T,” he insisted. I just kissed him on the cheek. And waited. I was rewarded for my patience.
“I got a little lightheaded when I climbed out, and that’s why my foot caught. But I righted myself. I DID,” he insisted again. I moved to settle in next to him, figuring we were in for the long haul, this time. He was feisty.
“I know you didn’t want me to drive. But I was fine. I finished the race, didn’t I? I didn’t get first, but I podiumed. And I didn’t crash,” he finished triumphantly. I rolled my eyes.
“You’re lucky you didn’t crash, first of all. Yes, I saw that. And if you had crashed, you’d be in the hospital. BACK in the hospital. Is that what you want?” I asked softly. He shook his head. The nurse popped back in with the ice packs he’d used last time for his ribs and face.
“But I didn’t crash,” he pouted, sounding like a child.
I thought maybe the sedatives were starting to kick in.
I turned toward him so I could help him get the ice situated on his ribs.
Then I held the other up to his cheek. I just looked him in the eye for a moment.
I could see how much pain he was swimming in, floating around in there.
“Sometimes that’s not always your call, sweetheart,” I said softly. He looked away. I nudged him gently.
“I can handle it,” he said determinedly. I knew he thought that. His head fell to my shoulder. I gave his cheek a break from the ice since the skin had turned bright red, instead stroking his hair.
I could feel the scar. The nasty scar. THAT one. I kissed his head.
“I know you can handle it, Henry. But sometimes, you don’t have to. Sometimes, you can let people worry about you,” I whispered in his ear. He snorted.
“Right back at you,” he lobbed at me. Touche. Fair enough. I sighed and just kissed his head again without responding.
“Don’t do that, I’m all sweaty,” he mumbled. I giggled softly.
“Baby, I don’t care. All I care about is you.”
But he was already asleep. I glanced up at the monitor.
His O2 was already up to 90%.