“Good news,” a bubbly voice announced, and suddenly a very chipper blonde woman stood at the foot of my bed. “Hi, Quinn. I’m Dr. Graham.”
“I can’t feel my legs,” I repeated.
The doctor’s smile did nothing to calm my rising panic. I could not feel my legs, as a matter of fact, I couldn’t feel much of anything. I tried to lift my arm but it was too heavy. Then I felt Brice’s fingers tighten on mine and I thought that was a good sign. But I still couldn’t move.
Nothing was working.
“Are you in pain?”
“No.”
“Good. You’re on a high dose of pain meds. Give me a few minutes to examine you then we’ll sit and chat and I’ll answer all of your questions.”
“But my legs.”
To say I was freaked out was an understatement. Maybe I should’ve been more concerned about being shot in the chest, which I remembered, or asking Brice to fill in the gaps of what happened after I passed out from the pain. But all I could think about was not being able to move my extremities. And I was trying, but there was a disconnect—no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get my feet to move.
“Quinn, baby, calm down and let Dr. Graham check you over.”
“I am calm,” I lied.
Brice looked at a bank of beeping monitors and smiled. “As much as I love to see that wave on your EKG—and I watched it for hours over the last three days, reminding myself your heart is beating—baby, it’s telling me you are not calm. Your heartrate is elevated, and right now, that is not a good thing. Relax.”
“How can I relax—”
“Baby, breathe. Just breathe and trust me.” Brice leaned forward, his handsome, albeit scruffy face filled my vision. “Damn, I missed you. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Breathe with me, Quinn.”
I took a deep breath and pain seared through my chest.
“That hurt,” I complained and Brice’s mouth twisted.
Suddenly I felt pressure on my foot and my eyes widened.
“I felt that,” I whispered. Then something tickled the bottom of my foot. “And that, too.”
“Good,” Brice whispered back and pressed a kiss to my forehead before sitting back down. “I’m going to step into the hall and make a few calls. I’ll be right outside your door.”
“Okay.”
Brice stood, but before he moved, he stared down at me. A look of pure love crossed his face, mixed with something that looked like wonder. As if it was the first time he’d ever seen me.
His eyes fluttered closed and when they opened they were glassy. “Scared the shit out of me. Every second that passed I felt my life slipping away.”
And with that he walked out of the room, leaving me speechless.
“You’re very lucky,” Dr. Graham said.
“Was it that bad?”
“I’m not talking about your injuries, though yes, they were life-threatening. I’m talking about Brice. That man hasn’t left and it wasn’t for lack of trying on your family’s part. They all told him to go home, eat, rest, shower, but he refused to leave your side. No one is supposed to stay the night in CCU, but the nurses gave up trying to kick him out. He hasn’t left your side since you got out of surgery.”
I didn’t know what to do with any of that. I knew Brice loved me, he told me. But the truth was, he showed it more than he said it. So instead of thinking about Brice sitting vigil at my bedside, which warmed me from the inside out—and if I continued to think on it too hard I would burst into tears—I focused on what wouldn’t turn me into a babbling fool.
“How long was I out for?”
“Three days.”
“Three?”
“Three days that felt like an eternity. I’ve been a doctor a long time. Never seen more love surrounding one of my patients. You’re blessed.”
“I am.”
For the next twenty minutes, Dr. Graham did her examination. The good news was, I could feel my legs, feet, arms, and hands. I couldn’t move them because of the pain medication, which she told me they would be tapering down but would continue to administer so that I was comfortable. She also informed me that depending how my vitals looked over the next twenty-four hours, I would be moved to a step-down unit.
Then she sat next to my bed and told me about my injuries. She did this softly and with kindness though she didn’t sugarcoat it. When they brought me in I was near-dead. Brice performed CPR because my heart stopped in the ambulance. I also flatlined during surgery. The knowledge that I basically died twice was something I couldn’t begin to process. Sure, it was a terrifying thought, but obviously I was alive so the doctor was able to resuscitate me. What I couldn’t stop thinking about was Brice and my family and what they must’ve been going through. All of them, but most especially Brice. He was the one who had saved me and I couldn’t imagine what he’d been through.
He’d said I’d scared the shit out of him, and I figured that was the truth. But there was more he wasn’t telling me. And my heart ached for him. I hated that my strong man had been scared. But even more, I hated that he saw me shot and left for dead.
“Do you know what happened? I mean, who did it or how I was found?” I asked.
“I think the police would prefer to speak to you about that.” Dr. Graham patted my arm and stood. “And please remember you still need to rest.”
She’d explained that, too. I was still recuperating and the chest tube would remain in a few more days, as well as another very unpleasant tube that was inserted in a place I didn’t want to think about. I could deal with all the sticky pads placed over my chest, the blood pressure cuff that was annoying but not intrusive, the machines beeping, the dressings that covered my wounds, the hospital stay, but what I didn’t want to think about was the catheter and the fact that Brice had been sitting next to my bed with a bag full of…gah…I couldn’t even think about it.
I knew it was stupid, immature, and the least of my worries, but it was embarrassing as fuck.
“I will,” I promised.
Brice entered and the doctor exited, giving him a pat on the shoulder as she passed.
“Thank you,” I murmured when he sat down next to me.
“For what?” His head tilted and he held my gaze.
So much pain lingered on his face.
“For saving my life. For staying with me.”
“I didn’t—”
“I know what you did in the ambulance. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“Quinn—”
“We have to talk about it.”
“Can’t,” he choked. “Not now. Maybe not ever.”
“We need to,” I pressed. “You can’t bottle it up.”
A knock at the door interrupted our conversation. And for the next two hours every member of my family came to visit. Their time was limited to five minutes a person but as soon as someone walked out the door someone new walked in.
I’d done a good job holding it together until my mom and dad came in together. That was when I lost it.
My dad looked ravaged with grief and my mom was no better. Tears flowed freely down my mom’s cheeks and while my dad tried to hide his—I saw them.
All the fear I had instantly turned to anger. I was so damn angry at the world. Furious at the man who shot me. My heart shattered seeing the strongest man I knew reduced to tears. I fucking hated that everyone was in pain because of me.
“I’m fine,” I told them.
My mom muffled her sob into my dad’s chest and I wished I could leave this stupid freaking hospital bed and kill the asshole who put me here.
“You need to rest,” my dad told me. “We’ll be back after dinner to say goodnight.”
His tone was gruff and full of carefully harnessed fury. Brice must’ve heard it, too, because his hand tightened in mine.
“Daddy…” My dad’s eyes slammed shut and his face screwed into something ugly before he locked it down and looked at me. “I really am okay.” He jerked his chin and I continued. “Promise. B
ut I’m worried about all of you. I was sleeping while all of you were going out of your minds. I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t you apologize,” my dad admonished. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.” He paused and took a few deep breaths. “Won’t lie to you, the last three days have been hell. Pure fucking hell. It’s going to take more than a five-minute visit to ease the knot. You get some rest and we’ll be back.”
I nodded and said, “I love you. Both of you. So, so much. I hope you know that.”
“We do,” my mom answered. “And we love you so, so much, sweet girl.”
“Brice. A word before I leave,” my dad said.
Brice got up, leaned forward, and brushed his lips against mine. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay. I’ll be here.”
Brice’s face got tight at my attempt to lighten the mood.
Damn.
“I’m fine. Go talk to my dad.”
With another press of his mouth to mine, he straightened and headed to the door.
“Mom?” She paused and turned to look at me. “Please come here.”
She untangled herself from my dad and motioned for him to leave. She gently clicked the door closed behind Brice and my dad before she made her way to the side of my bed.
Her hand went to my forehead and she brushed my hair behind my ear. Something she used to do all the time when I was a kid.
“Wanna tell me how are you really doing?” she asked.
Pure Emily Walker.
“I’m scared.”
“Of?”
My mom’s hand rested on my arm and I wasn’t ashamed to admit I was drawing all the strength I could from her.
“For Dad and Brice mostly. But I’m also worried about you and Delaney, Hadley, Adalynn, and Jason. Everyone, really.”
Mom nodded her head in understanding and smiled. “My sweet girl, always worried about those she loves and never afraid to show it. This family of ours has been through some tough stuff. Painful, scary stuff, and we always pull through it and come out stronger on the other side.”
“I know we have but—”
“Let me finish.” She grazed her hand down my arm and threaded our fingers together. “Do you know why we only get stronger?” I shook my head in the negative. “Because when one of our own stumbles, the rest of the clan closes ranks. We come together. We fight. When your dad and I had nothing left because our girl was literally fighting for her life, they lifted us up. They gave us all their strength.”
“And Brice? Who gave him strength?”
“You did.”
I sucked in a painful lungful of oxygen.
“But I was—”
“You did, Quinn. And he soaked it in, he never left you.”
“What now? How do I help him and Dad and the rest of you get over what happened?”
“You heal and be patient. Your dad is the best man I know. The fiercest, the most loyal, and most protective. For a man like him, having his child’s life threatened and all of his control stripped away? That’s going to take a long time to repair. But I’ll handle your dad.”
“And Brice?”
“Give him a few days. If he doesn’t open up, I’ll set your dad on him.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Dad can be…Dad is…”
“He’ll know how to handle it.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“I know it was only three days, but it felt like a lifetime.” My mom gave me a sad smile. “I love you.”
“I love you, Mama.”
“He loves you, Quinn,” my mom said and squeezed my hand. “I’ve had the pleasure of seeing what true love looks like. And Brice? He wears it well. Give him time, sweetie.”
My throat clogged and I nodded. I loved that my mom saw how much Brice loved me. I liked it for me, I liked it for Brice, but mostly I liked it for my parents. I knew they’d always worried about me. Dad had called me his wild child for as long as I could remember. If Dad seeing me settled and loved could bring him peace, I was happy about that.
Lethargy hit and I closed my eyes but I couldn’t find sleep. I was too worried about Brice.
29
“Brice!” I heard Jackson call as I was opening the door to Quinn’s hospital room. “Glad I caught you. I need to give you these.”
Jackson held out a set of keys and I gladly took them.
“Everything moved?”
“Yeah.”
It had been two weeks since Quinn opened her eyes. Two weeks of ups and downs, fears of secondary complications, but mostly Quinn getting stronger. Two weeks of me planning her release. And Jackson delivering the keys to our new house was perfect timing. Dr. Graham would be around in the next hour to discharge Quinn.
I’d argued against the discharge. Fourteen days seemed like it was pushing it. I thought she could use at least another week, something Quinn was vehemently against. Jasper pulled me aside and made me see it from Quinn’s point of view, then I relented. Although I did it under duress. I still wanted her in there under medical supervision.
She had no idea I’d rented a house and had all of our belongings moved. She was never going back to the place where someone almost took her life. And neither would I force her family to go there to visit her.
“’Preciate all your help.”
I did have a moment of guilt that it was Jackson, Tuesday, Nick, and Meadow who had to pack and move everything, meaning they had to face what had happened there. However, Jackson and Nick had assured me they wanted to do it instead of me hiring movers.
“Not something you need to thank me for. I told you I’d do anything for you and I meant it.”
“Know you did. Still, you have my gratitude.”
“How ya doing?”
I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to talk about how I was. I could easily talk about Quinn and her recovery. How she was mentally handling everything. But what I didn’t want to talk about was me.
“I’ll be fine when she’s settled in at the new house.”
“Not what I was talking about.”
“Well, that’s all you’re gonna get.”
“You need to—”
“Jackson, leave it.”
“No. It’s been two weeks.”
“You think I don’t know how fuckin’ long it’s been since my hands were covered in my woman’s blood?”
Jackson flinched and I felt like shit.
Fuck, but I didn’t want to talk about this.
“I’m sorry. That was shitty.”
“If you’re sorry, then talk.”
My head dropped and I studied the gleaming linoleum floor. I fought to push back the memory of Quinn’s hair on the sidewalk, her chest oozing blood. Every image stayed fresh in my mind. Each one seared there for life. Every second burned into my soul. Every minute of agony.
“I can’t. I can’t talk about it. Every time I think about it, it feels like my insides are being ripped out of me. So close. We were all so close to losing her. I…just…can’t.”
“Brother.” Jackson stepped closer, his boots now in my field of vision. Then his hand went to the back of my neck. “We are talking about this. You can’t let it eat at you. You need help and we’re gonna get it for you.”
Jackson stepped away and muttered his goodbye. It took me awhile to gather my thoughts before I headed back into Quinn’s room.
And the moment I saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling over the side, a wide bright smile on her face, the knot in my chest tightened.
So fucking close to losing that sight forever.
“Are you ready to take me home?” She beamed and I returned her smile.
So damn beautiful.
“About that.” I lifted my hand and showed her the keys. “We moved.”
“We…we…moved?”
“Yep. Found us a house two blocks from your parents. We’re all moved in.”
“Found us a house?”
“I wanted to buy something, but there
wasn’t time,” I explained. “When your mom told me she saw the ‘for rent’ sign, I called and the house was vacant and ready for immediate move-in. Jackson and Nick did the heavy lifting while Tuesday and Meadow packed us up.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Shit, Quinn didn’t look happy.
“Baby, I thought—”
“I can guess what you were thinking. And I love how much you want to protect me, but I’m going to have to face it, you know? The police told me where I was dumped.” Her eyes came to mine and I rocked back like she’d punched me. Reminding me all over again that I wanted to beat the holy fuck out of the cop who’d given her that information.
“Quinn,” I growled.
“What? I was thrown out of a moving car. That is the very definition of being dumped. We have to face it.”
“Stop—”
“No. I know it’s hard, honey, God, do I know. But please stop hiding from me. I see it every time you look at me, I see the pain. We have to let it go.”
Fuck if she wasn’t right, but I wasn’t ready. And I was beginning to think I never would be. I was a damn coward.
Dr. Graham strolled through the door, smiling. “Ready to go home?”
“So ready,” Quinn told her.
Barely ten minutes later Dr. Graham had finished with all of her instructions, which I didn’t think was comprehensive enough, but I wisely kept my mouth shut and added looking up ‘wound care’ to my mental to-do list.
Then much to my dismay, a chipper candy-striper pushed a wheelchair into the room.
Fuck goddamn.
I wanted to rage that Quinn needed more time but I held my tongue and grabbed her bags from the bed and followed the gabbing women down the hall.
The only good thing about taking Quinn home was…well, fuck…I couldn’t think of anything other than I could shower without having to leave her bedside. I could also get her whatever she wanted to eat or drink without having to go down four floors, which meant I had to leave her to get her what she needed.
But the flip side was, I would lose the nurses coming in once an hour to check on her.
* * *
“Wow.” Quinn’s eyes widened when I pulled into the driveway of our new home. I wasn’t sure if it was because of all the cars lining the street alerting us to the fact we had company—and not a little bit of it, but by the looks of it the whole family—or if it was because she liked the house.
Keeping Quinn: The Next Generation Page 22