Paul was in a rage.
"Paul." I grabbed his arm, and he yanked it out of my grasp. The force caused him to smack his elbow on the driver’s side window with a thud.
"Fuck," he yelled and shook his hand out.
"Paul, please slow down." I kept my voice calm. My heart raced.
"No. You don't get to tell me what to do. Stupid bitch. You have ruined everything." He took the corner fast and skidded on two wheels.
"Paul," I screamed and held on.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said under his breath. His eyes continued to dart around. He took another turn too fast, and when he stepped on the brakes, I jerked forward. The seat belt cut into my chest.
"Paul, stop. Let me out," I said. I pleaded with him, but instead of stopping, he stomped his foot on the gas and turned onto Oak Lawn. He took a wide left turn onto Armstrong and then a quick right onto Turtle Creek Blvd. I watched him scanned the area as he stepped on the gas pedal. We lurched forward, and his eyes stopped darting.
He focused on a target. We jumped the curb then hit something solid on my side that took us up, and the car spun.
All the air escaped my lungs as the car soared. I felt weightless, and there was no noise.
The world came rushing back as the car fell to the ground. The air returned to my lungs on impact. We were upside down and skidded a few feet before the second impact.
Then, the world went silent again.
"Miss." The voice was distant at first.
"Miss." It grew louder. "I need you to wake up. Miss."
I regained consciousness with a gasp. My hands went out in front of me. Pain radiated up my left arm.
"That's it. Miss, I'm Dr. Andrews. You are in the seat belt strapped to the car."
"Get me out of here," I yelled, and my lungs burned. I coughed, and my whole body protested.
I searched for him, but I couldn't see out of one eye—it was covered in blood—and the other wasn't focusing too well. I caught his hands and realized he was below me. I pushed my hair out of my face, and it fell back. I was upside down.
"I will. But first, I need you to calm down. What's your name?" he asked.
"Brooklyn."
"Okay, Brooke. You're—"
"No, Brooklyn." I wheezed between breaths.
"Brooklyn, you're going to be okay." His hands reached up and touch my wrist. "How's your breathing?"
"I can't"—I coughed again—"breathe."
"Okay, you might have a collapsed lung." He climbed up into the cab. He was kind of handsome in a television doctor sort of way. I laughed out loud. I must be going crazy.
He reached up and placed his hands on either side of my neck.
"Without moving too much, try to move your legs. I want to make sure you aren't pinned in here." He soothed me and annoyed me. Why was he so calm? I was upside down and trapped in a car.
I did as he asked and drew my legs up toward my chest, but something inside wasn't right. I screamed from the pain.
"Okay. I know it hurts. Keep your head still." He reached down and pressed on my side.
I screamed. The pain seared hot across my stomach and into my lower back. It knocked the wind out of me all over again.
"Okay. Sorry. Might be a few broken ribs, too. Possible internal bleeding."
"Dr. Andrews. The ambulance is four minutes out." Someone spoke. A weird squawking noise hurt my ears. "Are you going to extract the patient?"
I looked around the inside of the car. A tree limb had punctured the windshield on the driver’s side. I reached out and touched it, pulled off a piece of bark and dropped it. I watched it fall to the ground.
My chest hurt. I couldn't take a deep breath. Something was wrong with this picture, and then it hit me.
If the tree is in the driver seat, then where is . . .?
"Doctor," I said. I couldn't remember his name. "The guy." I couldn't remember his name, either.
"Stand by, SJ6." He adjusted, and the car rocked. "Whoa, I'm not sure this is stable?"
"Where's Paul?" The name popped into my head. I breathed out the words.
Dr. Adams jumped down to the ground.
"No, please don't leave me." I strained to follow him. I gripped at the seatbelt but couldn't get it to release.
"Brooklyn. I'm right here." He poked his head up again. "See. Right here. Stop moving. Take short, shallow breaths, okay?"
The sirens calmed me a little.
Breathing became easier.
"Harrison." I took a minute to breathe. "He's going to be pissed."
"Who's Harrison?" Dr. Andrews asked.
"My boyfriend." I laughed and grimaced from the pain.
He scrunched his face.
I focused on it. My head hurt, and I still didn't know what happened to Paul.
"Please. What happened to the guy in the car with me?" I croaked out the words.
"I'm sorry, Brooklyn. He was ejected from the car a few feet back. He didn't make it." Dr. Andrews looked away.
"Oh, my God." I sucked in a breath.
"Who was he?" Dr. Andrew asked.
"My ex-husband." Or was he my husband? My head hurt.
"You have any idea why he would drive off the road like that?" Dr. Andrew asked.
"He didn't want to be my ex-husband anymore," I said as tears dripped off my face onto Dr. Andrews.
"Oh, Brooklyn." He stepped up into the car again. "It's going to be okay."
I let out a gut-wrenching sob that shook my broken body.
I tried to move away from Dr. Andrews.
I needed to get out of here.
I needed to get to Harrison, but the pain was too much to bear.
I closed my eyes.
Every move took so much effort.
I'd rest for a minute and then try again.
"In a minute. Tell Harrison I'll be there soon. I just need to rest a minute." It was the last thing I said.
"Brooklyn. Open your eyes. Don't . . ." The car shifted again. "Brooklyn. Dammit, Brooklyn," was the last thing I heard.
Harrison
I peeked at the clock on my phone again for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. I gave her an hour to finish dinner, ten minutes to get home, thirty minutes to get packed, and another ten minutes to drive to my place. If my calculations were correct, she should have been here two hours ago.
I didn't misunderstand. I had her. She responded to my command, and she was ready to obey.
She didn't have to protect me. I needed her, and she needed me. We needed each other. Why wasn't she here, in my arms?
I tried calling her number again, and for the thousandth time, it went straight to voicemail. I grabbed my keys and headed toward the door but stopped. I threw them across the room, and they clanked to the floor and slid underneath my dresser.
"Ugh," I growled and screamed. I couldn't go get her. I told her she had to come to me, but if she didn't, what did that mean.
I didn't even want to think about that as an option. I needed her here now.
I paced, looked at the time, and then paced more. I spotted my golf clubs in the corner.
When was the last time I played golf?
I grabbed my seven iron out of the bag and took some practice swings. I placed the club over my shoulder and fished my phone out of my pocket. I squeezed my eyes shut. Every image I didn't want to think about entered my head.
That man had touched what was mine.
It was bad enough he kissed her on the cheek and held her hand in front of me. It took every bit of control I had not to snatch him up by his scrawny neck and throw him across the restaurant.
I growled, thinking about what he had done to her over the last two days.
She looked tired and worn out. She wore heavy makeup around her eyes, but the bags were visible. Her beautiful brown skin was pale. When she looked at me, when it registered in her mind that I wanted her, I saw the spark. The cloud lift, and my beautiful sweet pup came alive.
We shined brighter when we were
together. Right now, I was in a dark place. I felt it all around me, consuming me as the minutes ticked away. The longer it went, and she didn't walk through that door, the darker my world became.
I peeked at the time; it was 1 a.m.
I lost it.
I smashed the club down on the wooden workbench so many times, it molded to the corner of the surface. I threw it across the room, and it smashed a few dishes I had sitting on the kitchen counter. I picked up a chair and smashed it against the wall. It shattered into a thousand little pieces, wood sprayed and cut into my hands and face. I tried to pick up the matching table, but my muscles were exhausted, and my brain was mush. I manage to lift it waist high before I collapsed on the floor.
She wasn't coming.
The devastating thought hit me like a ton of bricks. Hot tears ran down my face, and I curled up on the floor and cried. The pain was new. I had never felt this kind of pain. Not when my mom died. Not when I broke my arm in the fourth grade. My arm hurt like a motherfucker. The pain in my chest hurt much, much worse.
In time, my arm healed, but I wasn't going to recover from this.
She thought Paul could hurt me.
She had broken my heart and ruined my world.
My phone rang, and I jolted up out of a crazy sleep. I was disoriented, and my body ached all over.
"What?" I roared in the phone.
"Mr. Crawford." I pulled the phone away and looked at the caller id.
"Jason." I scrambled to my feet. "What's going on?"
"The police are here. They said Mr. and Mrs. McIntyre were in a car accident last night," Jason said.
"What?" I yelled into the phone as I searched my pockets. "Where is she? Is she okay?"
"They said she's in serious but stable condition." He said the words like he was reading them to make sure he got them right. "She's at Baylor Southwest."
I ran over to my dresser and pushed it out of the way with a grunt.
"Thanks, Jason. I appreciate you calling me."
"Sure, no problem. I hope she's okay."
"I'll let you know." I headed for the door. "I got to go."
"Harrison." His voice dropped in volume.
I stopped at the door.
"Yeah."
"Mr. McIntyre is dead."
"Whoa." I placed my hand on the wall to steady myself. I didn't know how to feel about that news. I wasn't sure how Brooklyn would feel. "Okay. I'll call you once I find out how she's doing."
I hung up and called Justin.
"Hey, buddy," he said.
"Brooklyn's in the hospital. I don't . . ." My voice shook. "She got in a car wreck. She's at Baylor . . ."
I ran to my car in the parking garage.
"Dude, where are you?"
"I'm in my car." I fumbled to put the keys in the ignition.
"We're at the office, swing by and get us."
“Fuck.” I screamed.
“Harrison, calm down,” Justin yelled.
I took a deep breath, put the key in the ignition.
I skidded to a stop in front of their office five minutes later.
Seth was on his phone. Justin opened my door. Seth climbed into the back.
"I'm driving," Justin said.
I was relieved. I wasn't sure how I’d made it to their place. My mind was blank. I couldn’t think. When I did, it went to a bad place.
I climbed out and went around to the passenger side and climbed back in.
As soon as I shut the door, Justin had it in drive.
"Yeah, sweetheart. I am so loving you right now. Thanks so much," Seth said into his cell.
I glared back at Seth. We were in crisis mode, and he was fucking flirting with some chick on his phone.
He looked up and shook his head.
"She's in the ICU, head trauma unit on the tenth floor. Her doctor is a Dr. Andrews. Went to John's Hopkins."
My face softened. "Who were you talking to?"
"Jennifer. She's an ER nurse." He showed me his phone. "She's hot, right?"
I rolled my eyes and laughed.
"She said Brooklyn was brought in last night around eleven. She couldn't tell me any details. Just said it was a car accident." He looked up at me. "She said only Brooklyn was brought in."
"Paul died on scene."
"How'd you hear that?" Seth asked.
"Jason, the doorman at her place." I answered.
"You got a little spy on the inside. Nice.” Seth held on as Justin made a sharp turn onto Harry Hines. He drove fast but in control.
"I shouldn't have left her last night." I stared out the window.
"What do you mean?" Justin glanced at me. "Where did you see her?"
"I went to Cafe Pacific."
"Harrison." Seth poked his head up between the seats. "What did you do?"
"I just told her I still wanted her and that Paul couldn't hurt us. But I told her I needed her to come to me, that I wasn't going to drag her back." I brushed the tear from my face. "Then I left her with him."
"It's not your fault. It was an accident," Justin said as he reached out and grabbed my arm.
Even if it was an accident, it didn't make me feel better.
I lost her once, and now, I might lose her again.
Twenty-Seven
Harrison
We pulled up to the valet at the hospital. We all rushed in and found the elevators. We were silent on the ride up. When we reached the tenth floor, Seth guided us to ICU. We entered the room to find a huge desk with a bank of monitors and three nurses sitting in front of them.
"Good morning. We're here to see Brooklyn McIntyre." Justin flashed a smile. It seemed out of place in the somber setting. The nurses all looked up and gave him a frown.
"Are you family?" One of the nurses asked.
"No, but—"
The large nurse, with big brown eyes, held up her hand.
"Then I can't help you. I can't even confirm if she is here or not. We need permission from her family . . ."
"She doesn't have family." I stepped up, and the nurses all stepped back. Justin put a hand on my arm. "We're the only family she has. Please, let me see her."
The shorter nurse came out from behind the desk and took my hand.
"I'm sorry. But it's hospital policy. She is here." The nurse glared at the taller nurse. "She's stable, but that's all I can say." She pulled me to the bank of windows. "See for yourself."
The nurse pointed through the glass down a row of beds full of patients. They were hooked up to monitors and sleeping peacefully.
Brooklyn was the third from the end.
My hand laid flat against the glass. I watched as her chest rose and fell.
She had a bandage on her forehead and her arm laid on a pillow in a cast at her side. She looked so small and fragile in the bed. She was alone.
"Please, you have to let me in," I grunted toward the glass.
The nurse had tears in her eyes as she shook her head.
A doctor walked into the room with his head buried in a chart.
"Mary, can you check Mr. Baker's vitals again. And keep checking them every thirty minutes. I don't want to give him any more . . ." His words trailed off.
"Dr. Andrews," the nurse said. "They're here to see Brooklyn McIntyre."
"You're Harrison?" the doctor asked.
I blinked and nodded.
"I was the one who treated Brooklyn at the scene," he said.
"You were at the scene?" Justin asked.
"I was out for a jog and saw the whole thing. Scary stuff." Dr. Andrews pulled another chart off the desk.
The nurse went back to her post and sat down hard on her chair.
"She was conscious when I made it to her, still strapped into her seat belt." The doctor smirked. "She said you were going to be pissed."
"What happened?" Seth asked.
"I heard the car make a sharp turn on Turtle Creek; it hit one of those concrete pillars at the entrance to the park and shot in the air, flipped, and skidded
into a tree."
"Oh, my God," I said.
"It was . . ." His voice trailed off again. "She lost consciousness shortly after I arrived. We found some minor swelling in her brain, nothing unexpected based on what happened. She needs time to heal."
"Does she know about Paul?" I asked.
"Yes, she found out before she lost consciousness. He was ejected when the car flipped. Wasn't wearing a seat belt." Dr. Andrews set the chart on the counter. "Come on. I'll take you in to see her for a few minutes, but she needs to rest."
"Dr. Andrews, that's not allowed," the nurse stood up.
"Mary, I was with this woman last night. The first person she asked about was him. Maybe knowing he's here will make a difference in her recovery."
The nurse nodded.
"You two have to stay out here." Dr. Andrews pointed at Justin and Seth.
Justin nodded. Seth held up his hands and winked at the nurse and smiled.
She actually blushed.
I approached Brooklyn's bedside.
"Can she hear me?" I touched her arm.
"I think so." Dr. Andrews checked the machine hooked up to her on her left. He placed his hand on her hand for a few minutes and then let it go. "I'll be over here if you need anything."
When he walked away, I took Brooklyn's hand. I was careful. It was warm and soft.
"Hey, pup pup." I leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "I know these last weeks have been exhausting. You rest as long as you need. I'll be right here when you wake up."
I kissed her again. My lips lingered on her smooth skin. Her warmth made me feel better.
God, I missed her so much. I took in every inch of what I could see. I wanted to pick her up and hold her. I wanted to kiss her so hard and fuck her harder. I wanted to punish her and praise her. Any and everything I could do as long as she was here with me, and she was mine.
I ran a hand down her arm and leaned in a few times to make sure her breathing wasn't my imagination. When I got close and whispered in her ear, her heart rate increased, and it made me smile. It was her way of telling me she heard me.
The sound of my voice excited her.
"That's it, baby. You take it easy. We'll have the rest of our lives to be together." I squeezed her hand.
Salvage Him (Highland Park Chronicles Book 1) Page 21