Sweet Escape (Sugar Rush #2)

by Nina Lane

  Evan shook his head. “You’re not walking all the way alone. We’re waiting. Someone will come by.”

  “But it will double our chances of getting help.”

  “No. It’ll be dark soon.”

  Hannah smothered her protest, torn between wanting to stay with him and needing to get help. But the last thing Evan needed was for them to get into an argument. She released his hand and climbed into the back of the van, pulling their sleeping bags out and spreading them on the floor.

  “Come back here,” she said.

  He followed her, lowering himself to sit. Hannah grabbed her phone and checked it again, as if somehow a signal would miraculously appear. Nothing.

  Evan rested against the side of the van, his hand still on his chest. Leaving the back doors open for air, Hannah moved to sit beside him. She nudged the water bottle toward him, and he drank.

  “Was it because of the fight?” Guilt rose thick and hot in her throat.

  He shook his head. “It’s… it’s nothing new. Trust me.”

  “What do you need me to do?” Hannah asked.

  He regarded her, the light in his eyes faded but still there. “Just be Hannah.”

  She tried to smile. “I can do that.”

  “That’s all I need.”

  She settled beside him, resting her hand on his thigh. Her own heart beat too fast, the thumping sound echoing in her head. She wished she could somehow give part of it to Evan, to make his heart whole again.

  The light began to fade. She tucked her body against his and looked into the gloaming. The road remained deserted.

  *

  His breathing became labored, raspy. With every breath Evan took, Hannah’s fear increased by increments, as if she were climbing the hill of a roller coaster that was about to plunge downward. She made him take sips of water and wiped his face with the T-shirt, but other than that there was nothing she could think of to do.

  Her cell phone died after a few hours. The desert fell cold and silent around them. She didn’t leave the van, not wanting to see the endless fields of stars, the moonlight that hadn’t led anyone their way.

  Finally they both lay down on the sleeping bags, Hannah pillowed against Evan’s side as if the body contact would somehow help him. He folded one arm around her, guiding her head to his chest. His heartbeat thumped against her ear, the rhythmic sound reassuring despite his shallow breaths.

  “Tell me more of the things you like.” He stroked his hand slowly down her back.

  “A little café in Stockholm called Sturekatten,” Hannah said. “Mosaics. Grappa. Walking all the way up a mountainside cliff to a Tibetan temple. Local grocery stores. Postcards. Indian women’s saris. Teapots. Spices. Welsh lovespoons.”

  “And when you leave here,” Evan said, letting his fingers linger on her tattoo, “where are you going?”

  Hannah closed her eyes, suddenly unsure if she could stand the idea of leaving any more than she could the idea of staying.

  “I’d like to see the region of Umbria in Italy. Visit the San Francesco basilica in Assisi. Maybe I’ll make my way there.”

  You could come with me.

  The words hovered on the tip of her tongue, held back by the uncertainty of what the rest of the night would bring. But deep inside, Hannah knew the truth from which that wish had bloomed. She wanted Evan to come with her. For all her solo traveling, for all her pride in being alone, she could now picture traveling the world with Evan. She could see herself taking him to her favorite places, exploring new ones, comparing notes about European cities. She could see them together.

  “What else do you like?” she whispered.

  “You. Sahnehäubchen.”

  They fell silent. A low hum seemed to reverberate around them, emanating from the stars and the inky blackness of the desert. It took Hannah a second to realize that the hum was growing louder.

  And it wasn’t a hum… it was an increasing rumble… an engine.

  “Evan!” Her heart jumped up into her throat as she hurried to yank on her shoes. “I think a car is coming.”

  He started to pull himself upright, but Hannah was already leaping out of the van and peering down the road. Sure enough, two bright headlights appeared through the dark.

  “A truck!” Hannah called, excitement and relief flooding her like a tidal wave.

  She ran along the side of the road, waving her arms as a small truck crested the hill and headed directly toward them.

  Evan shouted behind her. She almost flung herself in front of the truck in the desperate attempt to get the driver to stop. Thankfully, she didn’t need to risk life and limb, as the headlights caught her in their beam and the driver pulled off the road.

  Hannah sprinted toward the truck. The door opened, and a middle-aged man wearing a baseball cap descended, his face shadowed and wary.

  “You got some trouble, miss?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Hannah gasped. “I’m… our van broke down, and my… my boyfriend is sick. We couldn’t get any cell service. Can you drive us somewhere or call an ambulance?”

  “Take a while for an ambulance to get to you out here,” he said, clambering back into the truck and reaching for the CB radio. “But I’ll call for one to meet us back at the gas station. Can your boyfriend get into my truck?”

  Hannah raced back to the van. The driver introduced himself as Charlie and helped transfer their belongings to the back of his truck. Once they’d gotten everything they needed, they sat in the front seat beside Charlie.

  Hannah’s insides churned with a combination of fear and relief. They returned to the gas station. Another short wait for the ambulance ensued, and she took the opportunity to start recharging their cell phones. Evan barely spoke at all now—he sat in a chair by the counter, his skin tinged with gray and his blue eyes so dull it looked as if a light switch inside him had been turned off.

  The wailing of the siren was the sweetest sound Hannah had ever heard. Tears of relief spilled down her face when the medics hurried out to tend to Evan. Within seconds, they were checking his blood pressure, shining a penlight into his eyes, asking him questions, giving him oxygen. They got him into the ambulance and offered Hannah the front passenger seat for the trip to the hospital.

  The lights of civilization appeared in the distance. The ambulance drove up to the emergency room entrance of a modest, one-story hospital on the outskirts of a town. As they rushed to get Evan inside, he reached out and grabbed Hannah’s hand. Her insides went cold at the sight of him—so pale his skin was white, his eyes shot through with blood.

  “Don’t tell my father,” he said hoarsely.

  Hannah stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Don’t tell him.” His grip tightened on her wrist. “Not yet.”

  Not knowing what else to do, but needing him to get inside where medical care waited, Hannah nodded.

  Evan released her. The medics wheeled him into the hospital.

  “Miss, you can fill out the paperwork over there,” one of them called over his shoulder, pointing to the reception desk.

  Hannah stood outside, gulping in a rush of night air. A tremble rocketed through her, and then she started shaking so hard her teeth rattled. She pulled in a few deep breaths and walked to the desk, where a weary-looking receptionist pushed a clipboard toward her.

  “Are you the next of kin?” she asked.

  Hannah shook her head mutely.

  “Fill those out, please. We’ll verify the info with the patient.”

  Hannah sank into a hard plastic chair and stared at the paperwork through blurred vision. Name—Evan Stone. Middle name—no idea. Address—no idea. On a beach in Indigo Bay. Date of birth—no idea. Insurance—no idea.

  She rested the clipboard on her knees and dragged her hands over her face.

  He likes the color navy blue.

  When he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the corners.

  His stubble feels like fine-grained sandpaper against my skin.

/>   He knows the history of cream puffs.

  Cherry-flavored Sparkle Pops are his favorite.

  Why was it the most important things you could know about a person were irrelevant in a situation like this? A sudden yearning rose in Hannah, so acute her chest ached. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Polly’s number.

  “Hannah?” Her sister’s voice sounded thick with sleep.

  “I’m sorry. I woke you up.”

  “It’s okay. Hold on.” There was a shuffling noise in the background. “What’s going on?”

  “I… I’m at the hospital.”

  “What? Are you all right?”

  Hannah wasn’t certain she was, but she said, “Yes. I’m fine. It’s… it’s Evan.”

  “Evan? Oh my God. What happened?”

  The shock in Polly’s voice brought a fresh sting of tears to Hannah’s eyes. “We’re east of Los Angeles. We ended up heading into the desert. He started having chest pains, and we had to call an ambulance to take him to the hospital. They just took him into the emergency room.”

  “Is he all right? What did they say?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m in the waiting area.” Hannah stood and paced to the doors through which Evan had disappeared. “I don’t even know how much they’ll tell me since I’m not next of kin. Is Luke there?”

  “No, he went out for a run. Did you call their father?”

  “Evan asked me not to,” Hannah said.

  “Why on earth would he ask such a thing?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have his father’s contact information anyway.”

  “Well, I’ll call him then.”

  “No!” The word flew out of Hannah before she could stop it. “Can you just give me his father’s phone number? I’ll take care of it.”

  “Hold on.” There was a pause before Polly recited the number.

  Hannah scribbled it on the edge of the registration form, even though she knew she couldn’t break her promise to Evan. He didn’t, however, say anything about Luke.

  “Will you tell Luke?” she asked her sister.

  “I’m texting him right now, telling him to call me,” Polly said. “But how are you? Are you all right?”

  For a second, Hannah couldn’t respond. It was just like Polly to ask about her. Not for the first time, she wished she had Polly’s all-encompassing thoughtfulness about people.

  “I’m okay,” she finally said. “Scared. I had to tell someone.”

  “I’m glad you called me. I’ll call you right back after I talk to Luke.”

  “No, I’ll be all right. I’ll let you know when I hear something.”

  “Okay. I have my cell right with me.”

  Hannah ended the call and set the clipboard aside. She waited for what seemed like hours—leafing through magazines, checking her phone, pacing back and forth from the emergency room doors. Finally they opened, and a gray-haired man with glasses and stooped shoulders emerged to scan the waiting room.

  “You’re with Evan Stone?” he asked.

  Hannah nodded, her nerves jumping to alert. “Is he all right?”

  “He’s stable,” the doctor said. “But his heart arrhythmia is pretty severe. I have a call in to his cardiologist.”

  Heart arrhythmia. Hannah had no idea what that was, and she wasn’t at all certain she wanted to know.

  “Can I see him, please?” she asked.

  The doctor nodded, gesturing for her to follow him down a narrow corridor. They stopped at a small room where a curtain was half pulled around a bed.

  Hannah fought an urge to flee, hating the sight of her beautiful, strong Evan lying in a sterile hospital bed. An oxygen cannula crossed his face, and he was hooked up to a heart monitor that beeped at regular intervals. A nurse stood on the other side of the bed, reading the sheet of paper feeding from the machine.

  His eyelashes fluttered. Though still dull, his blue eyes fixed on her with the precision of a laser. Her heart bumped, her veins filling with a strength that anchored her to his side. Of course she wouldn’t flee. She would never leave him.

  She stepped closer and rested her hand over his, giving him a tentative smile. “Anything for attention, huh?”

  A responding smile tugged at his mouth. “Sorry.”

  “No. I’m just glad we got you here.”

  “When we hear from your cardiologist, we can make arrangements to get you back to the Bay Area,” the doctor said. “I suspect he’ll want to do the surgery as soon as possible.”

  Renewed fear clawed up Hannah’s chest. She tightened her fingers on Evan’s hand.

  “Surgery?” she repeated.

  Evan closed his eyes, fatigue washing over him like a shadow.

  “He should rest now,” the nurse said.

  “Can I please stay with him?”

  “Just for a few minutes.”

  After the doctor and nurse had left, Hannah dragged a chair up to Evan’s side. She leaned in to brush her lips across his rough cheek.

  “I tried to fill out the registration form, but I realized I didn’t know any of the answers. Like your middle name.”

  “Matthew.”

  “And your address.”

  “1500 Turtle Drive.”

  “And your birthday.”

  “May twelfth.”

  Hannah swallowed. “And what surgery is the doctor talking about?”

  “I’m having a mole removed.”

  “Evan.”

  He opened his eyes, resignation reflecting in their blue depths. “They need to replace a valve that pumps blood to my heart.”

  A chill raced over Hannah’s skin. “The doctor can already tell you need surgery?”

  “No. I knew a few weeks ago.”

  Hannah blinked. The chill turned into outright cold. She released Evan’s hand and sat back.

  “A few weeks?” she said. “You knew a few weeks ago that you need valve replacement surgery?”

  “No.” He held up a hand, as if he were trying to stop her from jumping to conclusions. “I mean, yes. I knew, but I didn’t know I’d need it so soon.”

  “What are you talking about?” Confusion washed over her. “You agreed to go on this trip with me knowing you needed surgery. Didn’t you think something might go wrong?”

  His mouth tightened. “If I spent my life not going places because I was worried something would go wrong, I’d never leave the fucking house.”

  “But you thought it was okay not to tell me about it?” All her worry and terror tumbled out in a rush of hurt. “You thought it was okay to go on a trip that you knew wasn’t safe for you because you need heart surgery? How could you put either of us in that kind of position?”

  “How could I not?” Evan pushed himself up on the bed, his eyes flashing with blue fire.

  The heart monitor beeped louder. Hannah put her hand out to stop him from flying out of the bed.

  “Evan—”

  “I thought I was done, okay?” he snapped. “I thought I was fucking done with surgeries, that maybe I could live a normal adult life without thinking about my pathetic heart. And though I’ve tried my damnedest not to let it stop me from doing what I want, the fact is there’s always been stuff I just can’t fucking do. And when you showed up with all your stories of travel and adventure, and telling me you’re leaving as soon as you can, I knew it was my chance.”

  “Your chance for what?”

  “To have an adventure of my own before I’d have to be the sick one again,” Evan said. “An adventure with you.”

  Tears flooded Hannah’s eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to move closer to him.

  “You still should have told me.”

  “Would you have come with me, if I had?”

  Hannah didn’t respond.

  Evan gave a grim nod. “That’s why I didn’t.”

  “And because you knew I’d leave again, right?” Hannah wiped her eyes with the corner of her T-shirt, trying to push down the bubble of pain rising and expanding
in her chest. “We could hit the road together, have some fun, and then when you got back to your real life with its real problems, you wouldn’t have to share any of that with me. Because I’d just leave anyway.”

  His mouth compressed. “You never gave me a reason to think you’d do anything else.”

  Hannah averted her gaze. She’d never given herself a reason to think that either. After all, leaving was what she did best.

  Evan’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He picked it up. A pulse throbbed in his forehead.

  “You called my father,” he said.

  A pit opened up inside Hannah, dark and hollow. “I called Polly. I was scared and upset, and I needed to talk to someone. Don’t you dare get mad at me for that.”

  “I’m not mad. But she must have told Luke.”

  “Of course she did. I asked her to, but she would have even if I hadn’t. You’re his brother. I’d be surprised if he didn’t catch the next flight out here.”

  “He will.” Rather than seem relieved that his brother was on the way, a cloud of defeat descended over Evan. He put the phone to his ear. “Dad. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll explain later, okay? No, you don’t have to… Dad, it’s not… I don’t want a—”

  He cursed under his breath and tossed the phone back on the nightstand. Tension bunched his shoulder muscles.

  “Did Luke tell your father?” Hannah asked.

  “The phone tree has been activated.”

  She should be relieved. She was no longer alone in trying to figure out what to do next. His family, the people who loved him, cared about him, and knew how to fill out a hospital registration form with all of his correct information, had been notified. They would galvanize into action, using their money and resources to help him in any way they could. They would take over and handle it all.

  And she would step aside. Away from him.

  “You’re lucky they’re all there for you.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “One phone call, and half a dozen people flock to your side.”

  Evan shook his head, his expression unreadable. “That’s exactly the problem.”

  “Why is it a problem?”

  “I’m just tired of being the sick one.”

  “But they still need to know you’re in the hospital. What if… what if something really bad happened and they weren’t here for you when they would want to be?”