Drive

by Stephanie Fournet

  The book left his hand, and she clutched it to her chest, her look of relief breaking into a stunning smile.

  “I’m glad—”

  “My sister was about to kill me,” she plowed on, bringing the back of her hand to her forehead. “I had no idea if I’d be able to reach you. Jacques, you are the best!”

  She remembered his name. It amazed him that she remembered his name. Most of his riders forgot it the moment they stepped into his car. He loved that she remembered it. Technically, he could leave now, but he wasn’t about to. Against all odds, he’d found her in the six-story hospital that likely held hundreds of people. He wasn’t about to walk away until he found out more about her.

  “So the books are for your sister?” he asked, nodding toward the cover. She looked down at the scandalous image, her cheeks went scarlet, and she burst out laughing.

  The sound, weightless and bright like a tambourine, fell around him. He smiled.

  “Um, yeah. Historical romance isn’t really my thing.”

  “Oh.” Jacques wondered if she heard the disappointment in his voice. But he rallied. “What is your thing?”

  Her eyes rounded a little, and she tried to hold down her smile. “Um… suspense… romantic suspense.”

  He felt his brow arch. “Romantic suspense?” That sounded a lot more exciting than corsets and petticoats.

  “Yeah… books are… my escape.”

  What do you need to escape? The question nearly leaped from his mouth, and he remembered the look of trauma she’d worn after the near miss they’d had in traffic. Did her life frighten her? Was she safe? The urge to stand closer to her, to shield her came out of nowhere.

  “Books are a good escape,” he ventured, testing the waters. “If your life’s intense.”

  Her head drew back in surprise. “Intense? I don’t think anyone could say that about my life.” And as he watched, her cheeks colored again. She glanced down at the book and then back up at him. “Thank you so much for getting this back to me. If you wait right here, I’ll get my purse and give you—”

  “Oh, no,” Jacques said, raising a hand. He couldn’t let her tip him. That would suck. “That’s not necessary. I—”

  “I insist.” She put her hand on the door lever, and before she could push it, he covered it with his own.

  “No, really. That’s not—” He stalled, got a hold of himself, and asked for what he wanted. “What’s your name?”

  She blinked at him for a second. She looked down at their hands, hers completely hidden under his. Jacques let go. Then she met his eyes again.

  “Rainey,” she said softly. “Rainey Reeves.”

  Rainey Reeves. It sounded like music. He could write a song called “Rainey Reeves.” A damn good one.

  “That’s a pretty name. It sounds like a song,” he said, smiling.

  Rainey rolled her hazel eyes, looking half-amused and half-annoyed. “Yeah, my dad’s a musician. I think he thought it was fitting.”

  Jacques frowned, the thought dawning on him too incredible to be true.

  Books, bags, and blues, Floyd had said.

  “Rainey Reeves? Is your dad… Is your dad Doc Dylan Reeves?”

  Chapter 4

  She couldn’t escape him.

  No matter what, living blues legend Doc Dylan Reeves commanded the spotlight — even from five hundred miles away.

  On a sigh, Rainey nodded. “Yep. That’s my dad.”

  “He’s a genius,” he said. Then he shook his head. “I mean the blues aren’t really my thing, but what that man can do with a guitar…” His voice trailed off in awe.

  Which was too bad. The Uber driver was cute. So cute. And the way he’d talked her down in the car when she was silently freaking out had been more than sweet. It had taken all the courage she could muster just to climb into his car and ride with a stranger across town in the first place. When that Durango asshole had nearly sideswiped them, Rainey had almost suffered a heart attack.

  For what seemed like ages after, she hadn’t been in the Uber at all. She had been trapped behind the wheel of her old Jeep Wrangler, driving through her worst nightmare. The rain… the screech of tires… the sickening loss of traction…

  It wasn’t until she heard his voice cut through the workings of her mind that she felt centered. Safe. By the time they reached the hospital, she’d stopped shaking, but the incident made one fact undeniable.

  Despite her sister’s prodding, Rainey Reeves was not ready to drive again. If the experience had taught her anything, she might never be.

  It had also taught her that a stranger’s deep voice resonating through the car could bring her back to the present better than any meditation technique she’d ever tried. So it was a shame that same stranger had gone all doe-eyed at the mention of her father. Because who didn’t?

  Except, he wasn’t really doe-eyed.

  Yes, his eyes were a deep brown, and his lashes so thick they gave him almost a smoky appearance. But they weren’t innocent and clueless. They were bottomless. Timeless. Even cloaked in awe and respect, the look they held was grounded.

  And that voice. It was like having a sub-woofer pressed to her chest.

  She tucked Holi’s book into the crook of her left arm and stuck out her right hand. “Like I said, Rainey Reeves, and you are Jacques…?”

  His hand engulfed hers, and those deep, serious eyes smiled. “Gilchrist. Jacques Gilchrist.”

  With her palm pressed to his, Rainey realized she hadn’t so much as grazed the hand of a man in months. Not counting Ash, Holi’s boyfriend. And Ash definitely did not count. She liked him, of course. He was quality brother-in-law material — should he ever decide to propose and Holi ever decide to accept — but except for passing the salt or handing her the remote, even the times he’d touched her were pretty limited.

  But Jacques Gilchrist’s hand — for the three seconds she held it — felt heavenly. She would have held on longer, but he was saying something.

  “…sister’s here?”

  “Huh? What?” She released his hand, and he used it to point to the door behind her.

  “Your sister’s a patient? Is she okay?”

  “Y-yes,” she stammered. “Yes, she’s a patient, and, yes, she’s going to be okay. She has pneumonia.”

  And Rainey found herself shaking her head because why on earth was Holi so sickly of late? Rainey had been plying her with vitamins and natural supplements for months, since the first of her cough had come on in February, but Holi just couldn’t seem to shake it. Rainey’s guess was she was working too hard and sleeping too little. Of course, when she told her sister that, Holi always said the same thing.

  “One of us has to work, Rain.”

  “Are you going to hang here a while? Or do you need a ride back?” Jacques asked.

  Was that a hopeful look in his dark eyes? Rainey hardly knew. It had also been a long time since a guy so much as gave her a second glance.

  Because she almost never left the house.

  “Oh. Um… I’m going to stay with her for a little while,” she said, her stomach clenching with unfamiliar excitement even at the thought of riding back with him. “The boredom is killing her.”

  He gave her a lopsided smile that was all kinds of cute. “That explains all the books.”

  Rainey’s answering smile was full-scale. “Yeah, that’ll last her a day or two, and then she’ll be sending me to the library or Barnes & Noble.”

  Jacques tilted his head to the side, and his eyebrows rose just a little. “Well, then maybe you’ll need a ride,” he said with a shrug.

  Her cheeks flushed hot, and she tried to pass it off with a nod. “Maybe so.”

  And then he took a step toward her, even though he was already standing pretty close. Rainey felt her breath come shallow.

  “But in case you don’t…” His incredible voice rumbled low. “Maybe you could just give me your number.”

  Five minutes later, in a daze, she sat slumped in the chai
r beside Holi’s bed. The unfinished slipper lay in her lap, but she couldn’t focus on it.

  What the hell had just happened? She’d given a guy her number. Because he’d asked for it. Rainey couldn’t believe it. No one would believe it. She turned to look at her sister who already had her nose in The Wayward One.

  “You won’t believe what just happened,” she said.

  “Hmm?” Holi responded, but she didn’t pull her eyes from the page. Typical. It was probably the most annoying thing about her sister. Once she had a book in her lap, the rest of the world fell away. And it was probably the reason she was with someone like Ash. Adam David Ashy was not a man easily ignored.

  “The Uber driver just asked for my number.”

  Holi slammed the book shut and shot her gaze to Rainey. “You’re kidding.”

  Rainey shook her head, and she watched a wicked smile crawl across her sister’s face before Holi succumbed to a coughing fit. Once she could breathe again, Holi cleared her throat, shook her head, and said, “I was about to say I should get sick more often, but this sucks.”

  Rainey arched a brow. “Not funny.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” Holi sighed. “At least you’re out of the house. One day out in the world, and a guy asks your number. That should be encouraging… So, was he hot?”

  Biting her lip so she wouldn’t smile, Rainey only shrugged.

  Holi gasped. “He was hot. Rain, what was his name?”

  Rainey studied the ceiling and asked herself why she’d said anything. She knew better, but it was so rare that she had news of her own. Reading everything she could get her hands on meant that she always had something to talk about, but not much of it had to do with her. And Holi could be relentless with her encouragement, so if she knew Jacques’s name, she’d never stop slipping it in conversation.

  Chances were he’d never call anyway.

  “Tell you what. If he ever calls, I’ll tell you his name.”

  “You’re no fun,” Holi accused before her cough returned. Holi’s usual caramel-brown coloring was even more washed out today than it had been yesterday. And yesterday, she’d been lightheaded and struggling to breathe.

  Rainey winced. “Aren’t you getting better?”

  Holi nodded, but she still coughed.

  Liar, Rainey thought. But Holi had been on IV antibiotics for more than twenty-four hours now. She should have started to improve. Shouldn’t she?

  “Don’t look so worried,” Holi scolded.

  “What did the doctor say?”

  Holi gave her a tired look. “No doctor since yesterday, but the nurses are great.”

  As a development officer for United Way, Holi knew hard work when she saw it. If she said the nurses were great, it meant she saw them busting their behinds for her and their other patients. “I’m sure someone will see me later during rounds. Maybe they’ll send me home.”

  Rainey found herself hoping they wouldn’t. Her sister looked terrible, and Rainey wouldn’t know what to do with her if they sent her home. She was about to say as much when a knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in—” Holi called, the words choking off in a cough.

  A doctor, tall and thin as a reed, poked his tufted gray head around the door. “Seems I’ve found the right room,” he said lightly, smiling just a little.

  Rainey stood and drew back from Holi’s bed, relieved that someone with expertise was finally there to help.

  “I’m Dr. Roberts. How are you feeling, Ms. Reeves?” he asked, stepping into the room and setting a tablet on the rolling table by Holi’s bed. He took up the stethoscope draped around his neck before she even answered.

  “Not great, Doc,” Holi admitted.

  Rainey bit her lip. Holi almost never cried “Uncle.” Even the day before when Rainey had insisted they call the ambulance. That was when Holi’s lips had turned gray, her fever had reached 102, and she was wheezing for breath.

  Dr. Roberts hooked the earpieces to his ears and pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope to her chest. “Slow, deep breaths,” he said.

  Rainey knew Holi couldn’t take slow, deep breaths without coughing, which was exactly what happened. Dr. Roberts helped her sit forward so he could listen as he held the instrument to her back, frowning the whole time.

  Rainey sat on the end of the bed and put a reassuring hand on Holi’s blanketed foot. Of course, she wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure her sister or herself.

  The doctor draped his stethoscope around his neck again and reached for his penlight. “You say this respiratory infection has been lingering for some time now?” he asked, using his thumb to draw down Holi’s lower eyelid and shining the light on the exposed flesh.

  Rainey frowned now. It should have been pink. The tissue under her eyelid should have been pink, but instead, it was pale.

  “As you know, we did some blood work when we admitted you yesterday,” he said, clicking off the penlight and sitting on the edge of the bed. Rainey sucked in a breath. This wasn’t good. A doctor wouldn’t sit on the edge of the bed if the news was good. “I’m concerned about your numbers. Your white blood cell count is quite low, which by itself doesn’t really alarm me…”

  By itself? Did that mean there was more to alarm him? Holi’s foot wriggled under her hand, and Rainey realized she was gripping it tightly.

  “A low white blood cell count could be a result of infection, and we know you have one of those,” he said diplomatically, but Rainey knew he was just leading up to something else. Something worse. Her heart thudded a beat of dread in her chest. “But your red blood cells and platelet counts are also low — low enough to make me want to look into underlying causes of the pneumonia.”

  The room had gone airless. Rainey gulped for a moment before finding enough oxygen to speak. “What kind of causes?”

  The old doctor gave her a sympathetic look. One couldn’t call it a smile. Rainey wished he would smile. Because that would mean everything was going to be okay.

  “Things like leukemia, aplastic anemia, or autoimmune disorders.” He looked back at Holi. “I’d like to order a bone marrow biopsy. That should give us the answers we need to move forward.”

  Holi’s eyes went round. “Biopsy?” For the first time, she looked scared. It was a sight Rainey almost never saw, and it made her own fear — ever-present and quick to respond — triple in size.

  The doctor nodded. “It’s a procedure that takes about ten minutes. We’ll give you a local anesthetic, and another doctor — a hematologist — will make a small incision in your hip and use a needle to get a tissue sample of the bone marrow.”

  Rainey watched Holi wince, and she could almost feel a needle the size of a drinking straw tunnel into her hipbone.

  The doctor smiled then at Holi. “I know it sounds bad, but Dr. Lambert is the best around. You might be a little sore for a few days, but I promise you, if you give her ten minutes, you’ll be in and out, and back in your room.”

  “In my room?” Holi asked. “You mean I have to stay?”

  Dr. Roberts pressed his lips together and nodded again. “Afraid so. The low blood cell counts, the fever, and infection — all of those combined can put you at great risk. Life-threatening risk, Ms. Reeves,” he said, settling a long-fingered hand on her arm. “I’m also going to order a course of antivirals and a blood transfusion to help us fight this infection.”

  Rainey’s hand flew to her mouth as Holi’s eyes bugged again. “A blood transfusion. Are you kidding me—” A coughing fit ended her protest and continued on long past it. Dr. Roberts turned to the little table beside her bed and poured her a cup of water from the plastic pitcher.

  I should have done that, Rainey realized, trying to get a hold of her fear so she could actually be of some use.

  “Ms. Reeves—”

  “Holi,” she rasped, clearing her throat. “Please, call me Holi.”

  Dr. Roberts nodded again. “Holi, with numbers where yours are, even with antibiotics, it’s very hard fo
r your body to fight infection. I’m also guessing you’ve been feeling pretty tired and run down lately.”

  Holi blinked in a way that told Rainey the truth. She had been feeling tired and run down, but she hadn’t admitted it.

  “A transfusion will help you feel stronger. And then when we know what we’re dealing with, we’ll move on from there.” The doctor got to his feet. “I’ll get you on the schedule for the biopsy as soon as I can. May not be until tomorrow.”

  Then he looked at Rainey before bringing his eyes back to Holi. “Are you sisters?”

  “Yes, we are,” Holi muttered weakly. Her whole body seemed to sink into the bed with the gravity of this news. Or maybe the undeniable evidence that she was truly sick — and not just with pneumonia — made it harder for Holi to pretend. She looked absolutely frail now.

  “I usually suggest bringing someone with you for the biopsy. Distraction and comfort help a bit.”

  Rainey suppressed a shudder at the thought of Holi needing distraction while someone jabbed a needle in her hip, but she spoke up at once. “I’ll be here.”

  “No.” Holi shook her head. “Ash’ll do it.”

  “Holi, I want to—”

  Holi pinned her with a stare. “No, Rain. You don’t need to see something like that. Ash can totally handle it.”

  “But—”

  Holi’s merciless cough ended her protest, but this time, Rainey wasn’t about to be outdone by the doctor. She offered her the cup of water and a tissue for Holi to wipe her eyes, which watered when she coughed so violently.

  “Thank you,” Holi croaked, meeting her sister’s eyes and seeming to thank her for more than just the water and tissue. She was thanking her for accepting defeat.

  Because she’d lost. She was a loser. Rainey was a weak and useless loser who couldn’t be relied on to help anyone else because she was too fragile. She’d always been too fragile.

  The doctor explained a little more about the blood transfusion, which they would perform immediately. Rainey listened, but she also bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to give ground to the tears that wanted to form behind her eyes. When Dr. Roberts left them, Rainey tried to busy herself by stacking the books on Holi’s bedside.