by J. C. Reed
I reach his door and my chest tightens, as if a string is wrapped around it and someone’s tugging at it. My stomach recoils at the thought that I might be too late.
I push the door open and stop.
Kade’s lying on the bed, surrounded by whirring machines.
He’s not alone.
Sitting in a chair beside his bed is a woman, her brown hair falling into her face as she’s busying herself with her cell phone. She’s sitting so close she might be his girlfriend, or at least someone close.
I’m frozen to the spot, unsure whether to say something or head back out.
As if sensing my presence, she raises her head and frowns.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t be here.”
She’s beautiful, I can’t help but think. We’re about the same age, but she looks glowing and sophisticated. Her skin is tanned, as if she’s recently been on vacation to some tropical island. And she’s wearing nice clothes.
Definitely girlfriend.
“Stupid,” I mutter, realizing I’ve just spoken out loud.
“Who are you?” a male voice asks behind me.
My body freezes. Slowly I turn around and look up, tilting my head back to meet the guy’s gaze.
Definitely hot.
Definitely not a doctor.
Definitely not Kade.
Of course, it’s not him.
But there’s something about this guy that has me on edge. For some reason, I feel a need to make him like me.
“I’m Victoria.”
“Victoria? As in Victoria Sullivan?” The guy asks, brows raised. I regard his expensive, fitted suit and the briefcase in his hand which makes him seem out of place here.
“Yeah, that one. Kade…” My voice breaks. “We met at the LAA Center.”
I force myself not to peer at the woman, even though I wish I could catch her expression. Kade had me convinced that he wasn’t into relationships, and I was stupid enough to believe it.
“I know who you are,” the guy says, drawing my attention back to him. “I’m Chase. Kade’s brother. He told me everything about you. I’m not surprised to see you here. It just took you a while.”
I don’t know why his statement throws me off. I meet his piercing blue eyes and the reproach in them.
“Therapy finished yesterday. I came as fast as I could.”
Chase frowns, and I realize that I might not be welcome.
“I should go.” My grip tightens around my handbag as I consider whether to wait for him to move aside or squeeze past him.
“Please stay,” Chase says. “There’s a cafeteria downstairs. We’d like to discuss something with you.”
We?
And what could there possibly be to discuss? I want to ask when soft footsteps thud behind me. I don’t turn to regard the beautiful woman, but I can smell her expensive perfume.
“This is my wife, Laurie,” Chase says.
I stare at her as she shifts past me, right into his arms. He places a soft kiss onto her cheek and for a moment all they seem to see is each other. There’s so much love in their gaze, I feel like an intruder.
That’s when realization finally descends.
Wife.
Chase’s wife.
She’s Kade’s sister-in-law.
Suddenly everything he told me comes back.
I’m so happy I almost laugh as I remember everything Kade told me about his family. The adoption. Losing his parents. His brother marrying the one woman whose family ruined the Wrights. Kade’s struggle to accept her.
“We finally get to meet the woman who’s changed him,” Laurie says, offering me the kind of smile that makes me like her instantly.
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Ready?” Chase asks.
I sense a certain impatience about him, so I nod and let him lead the way.
The hospital cafeteria is a busy place. Chase chooses a relatively private table near the back and disappears to get us drinks. Laurie and I have barely settled into our seats when the blaring sound of an EMS vehicle carries over from outside. I imagine one bringing Kade in, the people inside fighting for his life. The thought is too grim to pursue, not least because the fight isn’t over. I only glimpsed him for a second, but the bruises on his face were hard to miss. And there’s also the fact that he hasn’t woken up yet. That’s all Sylvie could tell me about his condition. This is my chance to find out more.
Chase returns with our drinks and places a cup of hot coffee in front of me. I whisper a ‘thank you’ and wrap my hands around the cup, letting the warmth seep into me as I consider how to start the conversation.
There are too many thoughts, too many emotions. Too much fear to put into words. I want to find out as much as I can and yet I can’t bring myself to ask.
Luckily, I don’t have to.
“The doctors tried everything,” Chase says slowly. “In the end we’ve decided that an artificial coma might be our best option to give his body time to heal.”
I bury my hands in my face. “How did this happen? I know it was an accident but—”
“The car was on the way to the airport when a van crashed into it,” Chase says. “The driver didn’t make it.”
In spite of the heat, my body begins to shake again as I prepare to ask the one question that’s been keeping me awake at night. “Has he opened his eyes yet?”
He must have.
Silence.
As I look up, I instantly know the answer and a dull ache forms in my chest. The prognosis is poor then. His chances are slim.
Chase shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Victoria.”
I take a deep breath to compose myself, but the glimmer of hope in me dies with every second that passes.
“What did the doctors say, exactly?” I whisper.
“That he needs a kidney transplant. And even then he might not make it,” Laurie says softly. “Time will tell but—”
She breaks off, leaving the rest unspoken. She doesn’t have to spell out the obvious. I’m a nurse. I’m familiar with the statistics.
Time?
There isn’t much of that.
Maybe three weeks. Maybe a little more. But the more time passes, the smaller the chance that Kade will make a full recovery.
A tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe at it angrily.
“There has to be something they can do,” I say even though I know better. “How can I help? What can I do? You said something about a transplant. I’d be happy to test whether I’m a match.”
Chase smiles kindly.
“I really want to,” I add, in case he thinks I’m not serious.
His gaze moves to his wife, lingering there, and then back to me. “That’s kind of you, Victoria. We appreciate the offer, but my wife’s a match. We’ve already prepared the papers.”
That’s a lucky coincidence. Finding a donor never happens so fast. A wave of relief pours through me, while at the same time I regard her intently. Even her eyes are the same color, which is probably nothing but a figment of my imagination. I seem to see parts of Kade everywhere, in everyone, in everything I pass and do.
“So you’re a registered nurse?” Laurie asks.
“I’ve been working in a nursing home for the past year.”
“Before that you worked in the ER?”
I nod, surprised that she’s familiar with my résumé.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” I take a deep breath and shake my head, fighting the urge to get up and leave. “It was my fault that we were discovered and consequently transferred. I shouldn’t have let him go.”
“What happened wasn’t your fault, Victoria,” Chase says. “We know Kade better than you do. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll chase it—come Heaven or Hell. He has the most stubborn mind.”
I soak up his words, but the consolation in them doesn’t quite reach my heart. “I want to help. I just don’t know how.”
“There is something yo
u can do, which is the reason why we’ve been meaning to get in touch with you.” He leans back, hesitating.
“Yes?” I prompt.
“Laurie and I can’t be here all the time and we need someone we can trust. We’ve checked your credentials and feel that you’re the right person for the job, not least because I think you care about him as much as we do.”
“I don’t work here,” I mumble. “And even if I applied it would take forever to be transferred. And it might not even be to the intensive care unit.”
“Say that you want to and I’ll make it happen,” Chase says.
“You can make it happen?” I repeat, suddenly filled with excitement.
He nods gravely. “I’ll get it done by Monday. It goes without saying that you’ll get paid for your work and we’ll also take care of all living arrangements.”
“We trust you,” Laurie says. “We really do.”
“But you don’t know me.”
“Kade does,” Chase says. “We respect his choices.”
I regard him for a few moments. His expression is unreadable but there’s something in his eyes. Whatever differences the brothers had, I realize it never rattled their relationship. “How do you know that Kade trusted me?”
“He told me.” He leans back in his seat, and for the first time there’s the slightest hint of a smile. “Kade isn’t just my brother; we’ve been best friends forever. While we might not always see eye to eye, he still tells me everything, even when he knows I might not agree.” He cocks his head. “For a long time, we only had each other. Our past has made us stronger, has brought us closer together. So, what do you say?”
I don’t need any persuasion. Being near Kade is what I wanted. There’s no way I’d decline Chase’s offer. “Yes, on one condition though. I don’t want to get paid more than what I currently make.”
“Deal. Laurie will call you. If you need anything, here’s my personal number.” Chase pushes his card across the table and gets up. Laurie follows suit, shooting me a weak smile.
I take a deep breath and release it slowly as I get up. I reach out to shake their hands when Laurie wraps her arms around me, drawing me in the kind of hug that makes me like her even more.
“Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to all of us,” she whispers and pulls away.
I want to say that it means a lot to me, but my throat’s choked up and I can’t utter a word. So, I just not nod and watch them leave through the crowd.
It’s long after they’re gone and I’ve finished my second cup of coffee that I realize the magnitude of it all.
I’ll get to be near Kade without worrying about my job or any financial implications. I’ll get to take care of him. Talk to him.
I’ve read the reports of patients feeling and hearing but being trapped, incapable of communicating.
For the first time, a glimmer of hope flickers to life.
Maybe he’ll hear me.
Maybe he’ll know I’m there.
Even if Kade can’t hear me, I need to let him know how I feel about him.
Chapter Forty-One
Kaiden
I blink in an effort to adjust my eyes, unable to make sense of the unfamiliar, off-color ceiling that’s in need of a layer of white paint. I wince as another wave of sharp, throbbing pain hits the side of my head, forcing me to close my eyes again.
Two more minutes.
That’s all I need to recover from the pain.
Several minutes pass, yet the pain doesn’t subside.
The sound of humming and whirring keeps piercing through my eardrums. Every sound feels like a sharp knife is piercing my skull open. Every flutter of my eyelids feels like cement is about to dry them close. Every thought feels like a truck is hitting me over and over again. As I lie with my eyes closed, trying to make sense of what’s happening to me, I realize my thoughts might not even be my own.
Voices are overlapping. Somewhere, a child’s crying. And then a woman’s voice, soft and low, soothing. I latch onto her voice like it’s my beacon of light.
“You need to wake up.” Fingers, soft like butterflies, touch my arm, my face. “Please, Kade. Please. I need you. I love you. I want you, but more than that, I need you to wake up. If you leave, you’ll leave my heart in pieces and it won’t ever heal.”
My heartbeat hastens, not at hearing my name, but at the way she says it…hurt, disappointed.
I’m the source of her pain. I could take it all away.
If only I could wake up. If only I could remember what happened.
Did I hook up with her, then dump her? Because that’s the only reasonable explanation as to why she’d be crying at my bedside.
She makes me feel like a no-good bastard with only his own interests at heart.
“I wish you could hear me.”
The urgency in her voice scares me. As if something terrible is about to happen and it’s all my fault that I don’t wake up to stop it.
I force my mind to remember what happened…but nothing comes.
My mind’s a black canvas, all color and images drained from it.
It’s pathetic.
I am pathetic. Useless. Trapped in this endless loop of pain.
“Even if you can’t hear me, I want you to know that I love you. I love you, Kade Wright. I don’t know when it started. I don’t even know why, but I know that I love you and I can’t imagine being with anyone but you.” She lets out a shaky breath.
I realize with dismay that she is crying.
“People say you can choose to fall in love with someone if you want, but I didn’t just fall in love. I fell into you. Into your soul. Into your body and mind. I don’t just need someone to hold me. I need to know that you’re alive and well. I would do anything to see you smile. I need you to make it, so please, wake up for me. If not for me, then do it for your family. I could never forgive myself if you didn’t.”
Desperation.
Her voice is filled with it and I realize she isn’t blaming me. She’s blaming herself. But she can’t possibly have done anything wrong. There’s too much love in her voice, too much longing, that it’s hard to imagine she might be the kind of person who’d inflict pain upon others.
My pulse thuds as I force my eyes to open. My body feels drenched in cold sweat from the effort. The pain hits me hard—harder than ever before—but strangely it becomes bearable.
I blink against the bright light.
It’s the same off-color ceiling. No one’s painted it yet, meaning not much time could have passed since I last saw it.
The throbbing inside my skull increases as I focus on the blurred images around me. I’m lying on a bed in what looks like a hospital room.
My throat is dry, the metallic taste making me want to puke. There’s a glass of water on the bedside table but my arms feel too heavy to lift.
I turn my head to the side and glimpse the small shape of a woman.
She’s sleeping in a chair with a book clutched to her chest. There’s a blanket crumpled at her feet, and her features are relaxed, as though she’s been asleep for a while. But her face is pale and dark circles frame her eyes, as though even sleep hasn’t been quite able enough to wipe away her worries.
She’s so beautiful I forget to breathe, and memories begin to play inside my mind.
Vicky.
She’s here.
What the hell happened? Why can I remember her but not why I’m in the hospital, surrounded by whirring machines?
I take in the bouquet of flowers on the table, the iPod station, the bag on the floor next to her feet.
She’s wearing slippers and her nails are painted a soft shade of pink. A jacket is draped over the back of another chair.
She looks like she’s living here.
“Vicky.” My voice is barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to wake her, though. Her eyes fly open and she jumps up, disoriented for a moment.
Her gaze turns to me and shock passes over her face.
“Oh, my God.” She dashes for one of the machines and presses a button before turning back to me.
“Kade.” Her steps are slow, measured, and there’s hesitation in her eyes, like she’s afraid she might be dreaming. “You’re awake.” She pauses to take me in. “Do you know who I am?”
“It would take a whole lot more than an accident to forget you, Vicky.” I try to smile but even that’s too much effort.
She stares at me. “You remember.”
“I do. I think I even got the name right.”
Finally getting my attempt at infusing humor, she laughs and a tear rolls down her cheek. I wish I could get up and wipe it away.
“You remember me.” She leaps onto the bed, throwing herself on top of me as she settles into my arms.
I inhale her scent and moan slightly. Good thing some parts of me are still working the way they should be.
“You have no idea how much I missed hearing your voice.” She pushes up on her elbow and places a soft kiss on my lips. “You were asleep for so long I thought you wouldn’t make it.”
I frown, unsure what she’s talking about.
“Please don’t ever go back to sleep. Promise me. We’re all scared of losing you.” Her voice chokes up.
“I must have taken a bad fall on those stairs.” I suddenly remember that part. The stairs were slippery and I stumbled, right before getting into the car that was supposed to take me to the airport. I don’t remember the fall, but that must be it.
“Stairs?” Vicky looks at me, confused.
“I tripped.”
“Kade.” She hesitates. “You didn’t fall down the stairs. You had an accident.”
An accident?
I don’t recall any accident, not even a fragment of it. But then I don’t remember how I got here either. I only remember my last night with Vicky. Our last kiss. My promise to her. The goodbye.
As far as I remember I never got in a car. Or did I?
My mind’s blank, but it feels like I’m missing something. The gaps are there, waiting to be filled.
“You said I was asleep. For how long?”
She doesn’t reply.
“Vicky,” I prompt.