by Welsh, Hope
“Who would follow us, Mandy? Just go to sleep before I gag you!” he growled, tightening his arms around her. “No more talking.”
Mandy. He’d called her Mandy. He was the only one that ever had. It was his own special nickname for her. It only made her heart break a little more to hear it from him in that furious, worn out, tone of voice. “All right.”
Soon, the exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she closed her eyes. She was tired.
So tired.
Chapter Six
The sound of the shower running in the bathroom woke her up the next morning.
She came awake instantly, and sat up on the edge of the bed.
A look at her watch showed that it was almost ten. She’d slept much longer than she’d thought she would.
How long had he been in the shower? Could she make it of the house before he could stop her?
She had to try, didn’t she? She climbed from the bed and ran to her bag and grabbed out a pair of the jeans and a shirt, then grabbed her shoes. She’d dress once she was out of the house.
Turning, she ran to the bedside table for the keys she’d seen him put in there the night before, then sighed when she’d opened the drawer.
The keys were gone.
Both to the door and to the car.
The window!
She went to the window and tried to push up the sash, but it wouldn’t budge. With a curse, she slammed her hand against the glass, then cried out as the window shattered and a piece of glass sliced into her hand and another into her wrist.
Brandon was by her side in an instant. He lifted her and carried her into the bathroom and sat her on the commode. “Don’t move,” he snapped.
He grabbed a cloth and wet it, then turned back to her. Picking up her hand, his eyes narrowed at the gouge in the side of her palm. It was bleeding badly, and would need stitches. But the cut on her wrist was deeper, and he knew it had at least nicked an artery, if the brighter blood that was pulsing rather than flowing was any indication—and he’d seen enough arterial bleeds to know what they looked like.
“Hold this,” he snapped. He grabbed her other hand and pushed it against the cloth. “Hold it!”
He lifted her hand up over her head and pressed against the wound on her wrist with a second cloth. “What the hell did you think you were going to do?” he bit out. “I told you, there was nowhere to run to.”
As he looked down into her paper-white face, he cursed again. She was seconds away from passing out on him. He gentled his voice and knelt in front of her, still holding the firm pressure on the cut to her wrist. “What were you thinking?”
“I didn’t mean to break it,” she admitted. “I-I hit it out of temper.”
Now that, he believed. Mandy had always had a temper. “Ah. Well, your little temper tantrum is going to cost you a few stitches. This is going to need sutured.”
“No,” she said flatly. “No sutures.”
Brandon wrapped her hand around the make-shift bandage so he could find his first-aid kit. “Just hold onto that. Keep the pressure on, and keep it elevated,” he ordered. “I’m going to go get the first-aid kit. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
He didn’t bother waiting for her to reply. He grabbed his jeans on the run and went to the car for the first-aid kit. Good thing he’d thought to take the keys out of the drawer. He’d put them back into his jeans before taking his shower.
Damn, he really hadn’t thought she’d try to get away so soon—at least not when she had no idea where they were.
But then, he guessed he couldn’t blame her. What else was she supposed to do? She had to know that he wasn’t going to take her home until he got some answers.
When he went back into the cabin, and to the bathroom, he found her slumped against the commode. Her eyes closed.
“Mandy!”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Stop yelling,” she slurred.
Damn it, she was going into shock. The cut was bad, but he hadn’t thought she’d lost that much blood.
He automatically looked down at her hand, though, and saw the small puddle of blood that had run down her arm and onto the floor.
She’d done more than nicked the artery, she’d obviously sliced it. Without a word, he opened the kit and drew out a roll of gauze and several packages of pads. “Stay with me, Mandy,” he ordered as he pressed the pads against the wound on her wrist, then wrapped it tightly with the gauze. It was the best he could do, short of putting on a tourniquet, which he didn’t want to do unless he had to.
“I’ve got to take you to the hospital, Mandy. Let me grab you some clothes, and we’ll go.” Who knew how long it would take for an ambulance to get to them here.
He was sure he’d seen a hospital when he’d went through the town the day before. His major concern was what she’d say when they got there.
Lifting her in his arms, he carried her out to the car, and placed her gently on the front seat. “Try to hold some pressure on it, okay?”
She gave a weak nod, but didn’t open her eyes or say a word.
Brandon raced back inside and grabbed his own shirt and shoes, then something for her to put on as well, and was back outside in less than a minute.
He was absolutely shocked to find that she’d actually gotten out of the car and tried to run.
Again.
She hadn’t made it far.
She was unconscious on the ground ten feet from the car.
What the hell was she trying to do to herself? he wondered. She had to know that she was in no shape to run. Not with a damn sliced wrist and all the blood she’d lost.
He grabbed his cell phone out of the glove-box and dialed 9-1-1. If she’d lost enough blood to be unconscious, she needed fluids.
Chances were very good that she’d give him up to the cops when they came, but he had little choice. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let her sit out here and die in the damn yard.
For half a minute, he considered leaving the minute the ambulance arrived, but knew he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t leave until and unless he was sure she was going to be all right.
Brandon knelt next to her and lifted her into his arms again and carried her back into the house and put her on the couch.
He brushed her hair off her too-pale face. “Wake up, Mandy,” he said softly, touching her cheek. “Open those blue eyes for me.”
Slowly, her lashes fluttered open. “W-what happened?”
“You fainted,” he said flatly. “When you tried to run. Are you trying to kill yourself?”
She closed her eyes. “Go away. I don’t like you.”
He had to chuckle at that, knowing it was true. “I’m sure you don’t, Mandy. But, you’ll stay awake all the same until the medics get here to take you to the hospital.”
Those huge blue eyes opened again. He couldn’t place it, but would almost have said there was something like hope in them. “Why?”
“Why did I call the medics?” he said. “I can’t get my answers from you if you’re not well enough to give them to me.”
“I don’t want to go to the hospital. I told you that.”
“Should have thought of that before you broke the window,” he drawled.
“I’m thirsty,” she mumbled.
“Sorry, can’t give you anything yet. I don’t know if you’re going to need operated on. I have no idea how much damage you’ve done to yourself.”
They both heard the sirens at the same time. They’d arrived fast, thankfully.
Brandon went to the door, but turned back to her. “Don’t tell them, Amanda. Don’t say anything that we’ll both regret.”
He sighed as the paramedics walked into the house. He figured she’d immediately tell them that he’d kidnapped her, and waited for her to.
“What happened here?” a young man asked Brandon.
Brandon thought the kid looked about eighteen, but did see “EMT” on his sleeve. “She cut her hand on the window when she tried to open it.
”
“The hospital is only a few miles from here.”
He knew what they were thinking. Calling an ambulance for a cut. People did it every day, and it likely got on their nerves. That wasn’t the case here. “Yes, but then she passed out. She cut her radial artery, I think. She lost a lot of blood.”
That got their attention. They took her blood pressure and whatever other readings they needed, before finally turning to Brandon. “She’s going to need to go in, I guess you know. Her BP is a bit low, so we’re going to start an IV. Can you give me her name and age?”
Brandon nodded and gave them the information. “I’ll get her things. I was just trying to get her to the car to drive her when she passed out.”
The medics frowned. “Where did this happen?”
Brandon knew that look. They injury could easily be mistaken for an attempted suicide. She wouldn’t be the first woman to slit her own wrists—or the first to lie about it.
“In the bedroom. You’re welcome to go look. This isn’t a suicide attempt.”
The two medics looked at each other, but the older of the two shrugged. “Let’s get her loaded.”
Chapter Seven
Brandon became more concerned once they’d loaded her into the ambulance. She’d passed out again. Damn it, she’d lost more blood than he’d thought. “How is she?” he demanded.
The EMT ignored him, of course, as he put a pressure dressing on Amanda’s arm. The other EMT started an IV—to give her fluids, he knew. He waited, not patiently, for them to finish their work so they could give him some answers.
When the younger of the two went to the front of the ambulance to drive, Brandon asked his question again. “How is she?” he demanded, his voice hard.
The EMT looked at him. “She’s lost too much blood. Her pulse is weaker than I’d like, but there is no reason to think she’s not going to be just fine once they get some blood into her,” he explained. “You can follow us to the hospital.”
Brandon had intended on riding to the hospital with her, but realized that he just couldn’t do that. He had no way to get them back to the house if he didn’t take his car, though he was loathe to leave her alone. Damn it, and not just because of what he feared she could tell them. He’d worry about his feelings later, though. “Right. Keep her safe,” he snapped, and closed the doors.
He was in his own car and following within ten seconds. The ambulance ran hot—lights and sirens—which only worried him more. That just wasn’t the norm for non-life-threatening conditions, and he knew it.
Admittedly, he was a nervous wreck by the time they pulled into the hospital a few minutes later.
He was on the heels of the EMTs as they wheeled her through the ER entrance. It didn’t take a medic to notice that she had not regained consciousness.
“What have you got?” a harried nurse asked as they wheeled her in.
“Female, twenty-three, radial artery sliced. BP 80/40, pulse 140 and weak,” the EMT reported.
The nurse’s eyes met the EMTs. “Suicide attempt?”
The medic shook his head. “He says not.” His head jerked toward Brandon. “Says a window broke. We found her on the couch in the living room.”
The nurse gave Brandon a look as the EMTs took Mandy into an empty cubicle.
Brandon met her gaze steadily. Just like attempted suicides were common—so were lies to keep them quiet. “She tried to open a window. I think she hit it when it wouldn’t open, and her hand slipped to the glass. Believe me, I know Amanda. She’s not at all suicidal.” The words were calm—much calmer than he was feeling. He wanted to tell the young nurse to get her ass in the room to take care of Amanda, but he also knew that causing a scene would only cause them to either call security or the cops.
He could afford neither.
“All right, then. And you are?”
“Her husband,” he lied smoothly. “We’re on our honeymoon.” It was a quick lie, but not one easily verified quickly. It was the only way he could think of quickly to be assured information.
“I won’t ask you to wait in the lounge, but you need to stay out of our way,” she said sternly.
Brandon gave her a smile. “Of course. I just want her taken care of. She means the world to me.” There was a ring of truth to his words that—again—he’d worry about later.
The nurse nodded and Brandon followed her into the small cubicle. Another nurse was already putting Amanda into a gown and attaching leads to her chest. Mandy was still unconscious.
“Where’s the doctor?” Brandon asked.
“He’s with another patient. He’ll be with her in just a few moments. We need to get her settled first.”
That didn’t seem right to Brandon, but he let it go. If the doctor wasn’t in there within those few moments, though, he’d go find one himself. He watched as the nurse drew blood and rechecked the IV.
Just when he decided to go look for a doctor himself, the curtain on the cubicle opened and a tall man with white hair and a tired face walked in. “What have we got, Inez?” he asked in a serious tone.
Inez turned to him. “Radial artery injury—accidental by all reports. EMTs transported due to loss of consciousness, Dr. Brooks.”
The doctor moved to the side of the bed and started to carefully unwrap the dressing on Amanda’s arm. “Get me a suture kit, will you?”
Brandon watched as the doctor worked silently on Mandy’s arm, becoming more and more alarmed as she slept through the injection of the numbing medication and the suturing of her wrist. Finally, he could stay silent no longer. “Why isn’t she waking up?”
The doctor turned to him and smiled. “I think she’s just tuning out for a bit. Her vitals are normalizing, and her blood loss isn’t as severe as it could have been. Her blood tests show us that. She doesn’t need a transfusion. If she doesn’t wake up, though, we’ll order a head CT to be sure she didn’t injure herself when she fainted. Some people don’t deal with seeing blood well.”
Brandon frowned. “She’s been out over half an hour now.”
The doctor’s head came up. “That long?” He looked at Inez. “Order that head CT, Inez. Let’s just be sure.”
Inez nodded and left the small cubicle.
“So, what happened?” the doctor asked smoothly.
Brandon didn’t groan, but he wanted to. “She was in the bedroom in the cabin we’d rented. Apparently, the window as stuck and she hit it trying to get it open. I went in and found it broken.”
“Did she talk to you?”
Brandon nodded. “She didn’t pass out immediately. She tried to go to the other room and just fell over. I carried her to the couch.”
Well, it was mostly the truth.
The doctor frowned. “And you don’t believe this was a suicide attempt? Are you absolutely sure she hasn’t taken anything?”
God, Brandon hadn’t even thought of that. Was it possible she’d found something and taken it as a means of escape? He just couldn’t be sure, but he had watched her as she’d packed. “No, I don’t think so. We’re on our honeymoon. She’s not suicidal.” I hope.
“Can you tell me what she might have had access to anyway?”
Brandon grabbed Mandy’s purse. Inside were the normal things one would find in a female’s purse—but absolutely nothing in the way of medication—and he knew there was nothing at the cabin. “Nothing.”
“Well, let’s hold off worrying about any medications until we have the CT,” the doctor decided.
Brandon looked at the pale woman lying on the white sheets. Why wasn’t she waking up? “All right. Do you have any idea why she isn’t waking up, though?”
“Honestly, it concerns me,” he admitted. “She shouldn’t be unconscious. The blood level came back quickly; the other tests will take a bit longer.”
Brandon felt a stab of guilt, and tried to push it back, but couldn’t. He’d done this to her. He’d taken her from her school and likely terrified her.
Yes, he wanted an
d needed answers, and it was because of Amanda that he’d lost everything—but he damn well hadn’t wanted to see her hurt. “We’ve been on the road for several days. We’d just rented a cabin last night. She hasn’t been sleeping well for quite some time.”
That was the truth, if the dark circles under her eyes were any indicator. She hadn’t really looked well to him even when he’d been watching her at the college.
“Exhaustion might be partially to blame, but I’d like to keep her overnight when she rouses and run a few tests,” the doctor decided.
“I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” The last thing he needed was for her to be here where she might turn him in for illegal detention, but he wasn’t heartless enough to risk her health. He’d just be sure he was with her until she was released.
A groan from the bed turned both his and the doctor’s attention to the bed.
“Hey, Mandy,” he said gently. “Open those eyes for me.”
He watched her lids flutter and felt a surge of relief. When her eyes opened, the confusion was clear in them. “You’re at the hospital, Mandy. You fainted from blood loss.”
Mandy’s eyes darted from him to the doctor. “I’m fine,” she insisted. “I’d like to leave now.”
The doctor shook his head. “I think we need to keep you here overnight in observation. You were unconscious for too long. We need to run a few tests.”
Mandy got a mutinous look on her face and Brandon almost smiled. The good doctor had no idea what that look meant, but he did. She was going to refuse to stay.
He was torn between being grateful for that, and concern over her health. He told himself that it was only because he needed answers once more, but even as he had the thought, he knew he was lying to himself.
“Amanda, you need to listen to the doctor. I don’t want you fainting on me again,” he said, his voice hard.
“I’m not staying. I’m fine.” To prove it, she sat up and then fell back with a groan when a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her. “I just need to rest a few more minutes.”
The doctor shook his head. “I’m ordering a Cat Scan and more labs. Your blood loss from the accident doesn’t account for the time you were unconscious. No one likes to be in hospitals, but your man here and I will feel better if we know you’re healthy.”