“Nervous?” I asked.
She nodded again. “Overwrought, thrilled.”
I forced myself to relax and ran my hand down her throat. Lazily, I unbuttoned the top of her coat and ran my hand over the lace across her breastplate. I breathed deeply in and out of my nose. My hand followed back up her neck and gently closed around her throat once more. I lowered my face and hovered just above her lips. Ever so lightly, I ran my bottom lip across her hers eliciting a shiver. I did the same thing once more, but this time I skimmed the tip of my tongue as well, just so I could taste her, just so I could know what I was in for, and my God did she taste extraordinary.
I pulled away and she objected, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me so close, I could taste her without touching.
“Kiss me,” she ordered, and I was helpless to comply.
I crushed my mouth with hers and she moaned into my throat, spurring me on. I moved with her and we kissed like we were made for each other. Her saccharine tongue melted with mine, and I found my hands pressing her back, pushing her deeper into me.
We broke to catch our breath and to gauge the other, to see if it was truly as powerful as it appeared. Click. It seemed it was. Her labored breaths fanned across my face and she grappled to get nearer. I drove my tongue into hers once again, and I felt intact once more, as if a piece of me hadn’t gone suddenly missing.
“Blackwell,” she exhaled into my lips.
“Hunt,” I answered against her mouth.
But she forgot what she needed to say and showed me instead, sitting up, never breaking our kiss and tossing her jacket to the side, her arms now completely unconstrained. She threaded her hands through my hair, frenzied in her need to get closer, and pressed the kiss even deeper.
The kiss broke and my lips found her throat. “You belong to me,” I claimed possessively, biting her carefully, reaping me a cottony gasp.
Her lips found mine again and we kissed with renewed fervor, eager to learn the other’s lips and mouth and tongue.
We kissed for hours, no one curious as to where we were, more than likely because my truck was still outside the main house. When the sun started to make an appearance, I knew it was time to go, though I was loath to leave.
“Cricket,” I pleaded between kisses, “I have to take you back or your grandmother will kill me.”
“No,” she defied, making me laugh against her lips.
“Please,” I groaned, “for Ellie.”
“Fine,” she said, sitting back, before attacking me again, knocking me back.
My hands found the small of her back and I kissed her once again. I pulled her away and sat up once more.
She huffed and her mussed hair flopped in front of her face.
“You look beautiful after I’ve ravished you,” I teased.
“You look awful, just awful,” she ribbed.
“It won’t work,” I told her, laughing.
“What won’t?” she asked, a brow raised.
“Taunting me.”
She smiled her clever smile at me.
“Come on,” I said, grabbing our coats and helping her down the bales.
Once on the ground, she sat on a bale and put her shoes back on that had found themselves somehow removed throughout the night.
“You have hay all over you,” I told her.
“So do you,” she said, giggling.
“Stand up,” I ordered, and picked straws of hay out of her lace dress and hair.
She shook out her hair and swept her bangs. She looked flawless, like she hadn’t just rolled around in a hayloft, as cliche as that sounds. She did the same for me and we put our coats back on.
I picked her up and she whooped when I swept her legs beneath my arm.
“How chivalrous,” she said, smiling.
She was so light, I sort of manhandled her, bouncing her around in my arms. When she rolled her eyes, I kissed her nose.
“What a lovely first date,” she commented.
“We didn’t do anything but make out,” I laughed.
She winked. “Exactly.”
“You’re a cheeky little thing.”
“Um, you also got me a present. A very beautiful present, actually.”
“It was nothing,” I told her.
“It was not! It was so thoughtful!”
“I’m glad you like it,” I said.
“How could I—” she began, but the smile on her face fell. “Oh God,” she said, her back stiffening.
I set her down.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Cramp?”
“Uh, n-no,” she said, her hand at her back. “I need—” She stopped short, falling against me.
“Cricket?” I asked, worried.
“Home,” she whispered, the color draining from her face.
“Cricket!” I yelled, scooping her up in my arms as she collapsed toward the ground.
“Cricket,” I demanded, panicking, but she didn’t respond.
I checked for a pulse but it was weak. She was breathing though, shallowly. I ran with her in my arms up the deck and into the living room, shouting.
“Ellie! Emmett!”
I laid Cricket on the sofa and reached for the phone, dialing nine-one-one.
“Ellie!” I shouted once more before the operator answered.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“Uh, my girlfriend just collapsed and I’m not sure what’s wrong with her. Please,” I pleaded, “send an ambulance immediately.”
Ellie came bounding into the room, tying a robe around her waist. “What’s wrong?” she began but took in Cricket on the sofa.
“Emmett!” she shouted and ran over to her. “Oh Lord! Cricket,” she said, crying, “can you hear me?”
I hung up the phone and kneeled at her side. “I don’t know what happened,” I explained. “One minute she was fine, and the next she was grabbing at her back.”
Ellie was crying and smoothing Cricket’s hair from her face. “She, uh, she has kidney failure, Spencer.”
It felt like a bomb had just been dropped, shattering my perfect world.
“What?” I asked.
“The past year, she’s needed dialysis several times a week. She needs a transplant.”
My chest felt constricted and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t have time to worry about anything other than getting Cricket help.
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Are they sending an ambulance?”
I shook my head. “No, a medevac.”
“Keep an eye out and guide them in?” she asked.
“Of course.”
I felt so helpless. I paced the deck back and forth, praying harder than I ever had before, begging God to save her, to keep her here. An agonizing, seven minutes later, the helicopter made its appearance in the sky. I jumped on the balls of my feet in anticipation. It felt like they took forever to set down in the bit of driveway in front of the main house. Two EMTs emerged, and I led them into the house while the pilot sat ready to leave as soon as possible. They rushed past me and into the house. I followed them, panicked, on the verge of falling to my knees and yanking out my hair. I had no idea what was going on. Just an hour before she was normal, happy, in my arms. I was kissing her. Falling more and more in love with her.
In a whirlwind, they had her on a gurney, and had flown off with the love of my life. I was left standing alone on the deck wondering what in the hell I was supposed to do.
“Come on, son,” Ellie said, wrapping her arm around me. “The hospital,” she explained.
I bounded down the deck stairs and opened Ellie’s door for her. Emmett promised to follow within minutes after he informed Jonah, Bridge and the rest of the hands.
The thirty minutes it took to drive to Kalispell were the longest of my life. We drove in absolute silence, both praying, both hoping when we got to the hospital that she’d be fine. That it’d be a false alarm. That she would be walking, talking, being her nor
mal, happy, funny self.
My hands gripped the steering wheel, the whites of my knuckles shining through. I periodically would run a hand down the length of my face in disbelief. I was so pissed at myself for not seeing the signs. Her multi-weekly trips to Kalispell with Ethan. Her refusing the alcohol. She told me on more than one occasion that the ranch, the people of her town, did not define her correctly. At Bridge’s doctor’s office, that receptionist asking how she was doing. Ethan and her “fight.” Ellie crying at the bottom of the stairs. Cricket’s profound thoughts of death. Her mother. Ethan and the list.
“Oh my God, Ellie,” I said, my body starting to shake.
“Yes,” she spoke quietly.
“Was Ethan Cricket’s kidney donor?”
She looked at me. “Yes.”
“Oh my God,” I said, feeling the need to wretch. “Oh my God,” I said again, my hands shaking so badly I could barely clutch the wheel.
That day, in the trailer, before their fight. You’re only in your relationship with Ethan because he’s giving you something you think you can’t live without, and you’re too scared to give up.
I pulled over, opened the door and vomited everything I had, which wasn’t much since my stomach was empty. When I came back up, Ellie had found an old t-shirt on the ground and handed it to me.
I wiped my mouth. “Thank you,” I could barely say.
She nodded and I pulled back out on the road.
I was selfish. A selfish asshole who, no matter where he went, what his intentions were, wreaked havoc on everyone he got near. I was toxic, making good people around me pay for my past sins.
I parked quickly and Ellie, still in her bathrobe and slippers, and I headed directly for the E.R. We approached the check-in nurse.
“My granddaughter is here, love,” Ellie spoke sweetly. “Name’s Caroline Hunt?”
“Yes,” she said, “she’s with a doctor now.”
“May we see her?” she asked.
“Just a moment,” the nurse answered, standing up and heading through double doors.
I saw a row of seats near the desk and helped Ellie sit. She was so calm, so sweet, but she was leaning on me so heavily. I knew she was emotionally wrecked. My heart bled for her. I sat next to her and set her hands in my own.
We sat quietly, waiting for the nurse. It was taking forever. It always infuriated me when hospital staff took their time. I understood that this was the day-to-day of their jobs, but to us, to the family of the sick, it was a place where every minute, every second, felt like torment. I hated the casual “wait” attitude they possessed. It made me want to shake them. There was no sense of urgency when it came to their patients’ families, and I thought that cruel. At a time where compassion should be priority, it fell so quickly to the wayside with the humdrum of their work.
The nurse finally strolled in with a “They’re working on her now. I’ll let you know something when I do.”
“Is she conscious? Still breathing?” I demanded. “Can you give us anything?”
“I’m not sure,” she explained and walked away.
Ellie and I prayed together and waited...and waited and waited and waited.
Two hours passed and we hadn’t heard anything, making Ellie so nervous she was looking pale.
I stood and marched over to the nurse’s desk. “Anything?” I asked as nicely as I could.
“Let me check,” she said, incensing me.
I stood by the doors, my arms crossed, and waited, again.
She came back ten minutes later. “I’m sorry, but she was moved to the Critical Care Unit more than half an hour ago.”
“What the hell?! Ellie,” I said, turning toward her, “she’s in CCU.”
I ignored the nurse when she tried to give us directions.
“I’ll just follow the signs,” I told her.
I supported Ellie’s arm in the elevator and guided her down the hall toward the Critical Care Unit sign.
“Can I help you?” a nurse asked as we approached.
“Yes, we’re looking for a patient. Her name’s Caroline Hunt.”
“Oh yes, she’s in room seven.”
“Is she,” I swallowed, “okay?”
“I believe so,” she said, smiling.
Ellie fell a little bit against me in relief, breaking my heart. “Thank God,” I said.
“Thank God, indeed,” she smiled.
We approached the room slowly, hoping not to wake her if she was asleep, and slid the large glass door open. I slid the curtain back a little and took in Cricket.
She leaned forward a bit and smiled at the both of us, though she looked pale beyond belief and her hair was rustled.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully.
“Oh God, Cricket,” I nearly broke down, hugging her. I kissed the top of her head, side of her face and lips. “You scared us to death.”
“It’s okay,” she told us. “I’m okay.”
“You’re not,” I told her, gesturing to her bed.
She was hooked up to numerous machines, and it was overwhelming me.
I realized I had taken over Cricket when Ellie appeared at my side. “I’m so sorry, Ellie,” I told her, making way for her.
“Granddaughter,” she said softly, “which doctor have you spoken to?”
“Caldwell was here earlier but he left. He’ll be back soon though and explain it all.”
I’d forgotten that they probably knew the physicians there, that they’d been struggling with this for who knows how many years. I looked about the room and grabbed a chair for Ellie and she sat. I wheeled the doctor’s chair over to the side of Cricket’s bed and held her hand.
“I wish you’d told me,” I said.
A tear escaped. “If I had told you, you would have seen the sick me and not the real me. I loved so much that you saw me for me. I loved that you didn’t cut me slack or make excuses for me. I loved that you called me out.”
“I’m so sorry,” I told her, bringing her hand to my lips. “I am so sorry for the insensitive things I’ve done and said.”
“Didn’t you hear me?” she laughed. “I liked that you treated me normally, Spencer. I loved it.”
A tall man with white hair approached the glass doors and knocked. “Can I come in?” he asked.
“Come in, Dr. Caldwell,” Cricket instructed, waving him in. “Caldwell, this is Spencer Blackwell,” she said, introducing me. “Spencer, this is my nephrologist, Dr. Caldwell.”
I stood and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to finally put a name to a face,” he said.
I looked down at Cricket and she shrugged. “You came up a lot during dialysis.”
I smiled at her.
I gave the doctor his stool but he refused it. “No, no, sit. I won’t be long.”
“Thank you.”
He sighed, making my blood pressure spike. “Well, it’s happening, and frankly, sooner than I thought it would.”
Ellie and Cricket nodded but my blood ran cold. I didn’t understand.
“We ran a screen,” he continued, “and your levels were through the roof, Cricket.”
She nodded as if she expected this.
“I want to do an ultrasound within the hour or so.”
“Okay,” she said.
He squeezed her foot and waved to everyone else. “I’ll be back,” he said. “Hang tight.”
Ellie looked at Cricket and sighed. “I know,” Cricket said, smiling. “Everything will be okay,” she told Ellie, who began to cry. “Oh, Grandma, things are different now.”
“They feel the same,” she said, swiping beneath her eyes.
“Medicine has improved, Grandma. This is not a death sentence.”
Ellie reached forward and grabbed her other hand. Cricket squeezed her hand, then turned to me.
“This is how my mother died,” she said, shocking me to my core.
I swallowed, my mouth bone dry. “How old was your mother?” I rasped.
“My age when she was diagnosed,” she answered.
I nodded, my eyes burning. “And this?”
“Yes, she died of advanced kidney disease.” She squeezed my hand tightly. “Did you hear what I said?” she asked. “This is not a death sentence.”
“What does this all mean then?”
“Well,” she said, turning away from me, avoiding my eyes, “I’ll need a transplant more than likely.”
“And, uh, do you have one in mind?”
She looked at me but barely. “I’m on a list.”
Ellie stood when her cell phone rang. “It’s your Pop Pop. He’ll be downstairs with everyone and he brought clothing for me. Will you be okay?” she asked Cricket.
“Yes, I’ve got Spencer.”
Ellie smiled at me. “I’ll be right back.”
She left the room and slid the door shut.
A few minutes later, a nurse came in and took Cricket for an ultrasound, returning her in half an hour.
When they settled her back into place, I leaned up and pressed my face into Cricket’s neck. I smelled her, felt her warmth, listened to her inhale and exhale and kissed her throat then sat back down. I needed all my senses to recognize her.
“Tell me the truth,” I said, my voice shaking. “Was Ethan your living donor?”
Her body went still and she studied me for way too long.
“Cricket,” I pleaded.
She audibly sighed. “He was. No one matched me except Pop Pop, and he was denied because of his age. Ethan was willing.”
My eyes stung severely. “I caused that.”
“You didn’t,” she said, palming my face. She bent forward and kissed my mouth. “I chose to release him, Spencer. It wasn’t fair for me to ask that of him when I wasn’t in love with him the way he was in love with me.”
“Oh God,” I lamented, kissing her hand. “I’ve ruined your life.”
“Spencer,” she spoke quietly, “you haven’t ruined my life. You’ve awakened me.”
I shook my head.
“Don’t argue with me, Spencer. I know the truth when I see it.”
“How long does it take to get a kidney, and when do you need it?” I asked.
“I’m not sure. It all depends on what Dr. Caldwell finds.”
I nodded, ready to hear the truth, and if push came to shove, I’d crawl on my hands and knees to Ethan and beg him to consider donating.
GREED (The Seven Deadly Series) Page 25