Unbreakable (Unrestrained #4)

by S. E. Lund

  I knew she had the very best care possible and so all that was left for me was to wait. And pray.

  I sat in the small waiting room off the ICU that was designated for families and held my head in my hands, trying to catch my breath. A nurse came up to me and I glanced up, wiping my eyes so I could see her more clearly.

  “Dr. Morgan, your baby girl is doing fine and is in the NICU if you want to go and see her. They have her stabilized and she’s doing well.”

  “Thank you,” I said and stood, torn between waiting to see how Kate was and wanting to see Sophia. Then, I thought about Ethan and Elaine and felt I had to call them, to let them know Kate was in the hospital.

  I dialed Ethan’s number and waited. Elaine answered, her voice soft.

  “Hi, Drake,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind me answering but Ethan’s asleep right now.”

  “No, that’s fine,” I said and cleared my throat. “Kate was involved in a hit and run and is in the ICU at New York University hospital. They did a crash C-section and Sophia is in the neonatal intensive care unit, but she’s doing well. Kate is being sedated and they’ll be watching her for the next 24 hours. She’s critical, but she’s stable. You should come down as soon as you can.”

  “Oh, my God, Drake!” she cried out, and I heard her sharp intake of breath. “They’re both alive? When did this happen? Oh, God, poor Kate. The baby was delivered?”

  “Yes, Kate had an abruption and they had to take her uterus and spleen as well. They’re going to do a head CT and get a better idea of whether there’s any brain damage, but so far, she looks stable.”

  “I’ll wake up Ethan and we’ll be down as soon as possible. I’m so sorry, Drake. You must be out of your mind.”

  “I’m trying to hold it together, but it’s hard.”

  “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

  I ended the call and closed my eyes, trying to calm down.

  I heard someone clear their throat and opened my eyes to see a couple of burly middle-aged men dressed in suits and trench coats standing before me.

  “Dr. Morgan?” the one man said. Blond, brush cut, and sharp blue eyes, he had a grim expression on his face.

  “Yes,” I said and stood up, thinking it might be the police. “Drake Morgan.”

  “I’m Detective McDonald and this is my partner, Detective St. James. We’re here to ask you a few questions about your wife’s accident.”

  I nodded and slipped my hands in my pockets. “I understand it was a hit and run. That’s what my security detail said when I was notified of the accident.”

  “We have a few questions to ask,” McDonald said. “I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course.” I glanced around and saw the unused conference room off to the side of the hallway. “Why don’t we go in there to talk?” I said and pointed to the room. “It’s more private.”

  We went inside and sat down and I waited, eager to hear their thoughts on the hit and run.

  “Dr. Morgan, can you tell us why you had a bodyguard for your wife?”

  I leaned forward and took in a deep breath, composing my thoughts carefully.

  “There was a former sexual partner who seemed to be a potential threat to both Kate and me, so I hired a security firm to provide Kate with protection when I wasn’t there with her.” Until that moment, I hadn’t even thought about Lisa, but then a sinking feeling overtook me and I felt as if the blood all left my body. “Why? Do you think this was a deliberate act?”

  St. James flipped through his notepad. “A witness claimed that the car had been driving slowly, but when your wife stepped off the curb to cross the street, the car sped up and struck her before taking off. Several witnesses chased after the vehicle and we have a partial license plate and model and will do our best to track it down. We think it was a rental.”

  McDonald stared at me pointedly. “Can you tell us where you were this afternoon between five and six o’clock?”

  “I was here,” I said defensively. “I have a fellowship at NYU and had just finished up some paperwork. You can ask my admin person because she was doing some work for me and knows I was here.”

  “You have to understand that we’re obliged to interview the spouse of a victim of a potential attempted homicide,” St. James said.

  I nodded, and exhaled heavily, trying to relax. Of course they had to ask. The first person that they should suspect when an adult has been murdered or there has been an attempt on their life is the spouse or other family member. Sadly, all too often, it’s someone close to the victim who is the perpetrator. Having worked in enough ERs over the years, I knew that well.

  So I told them about Lisa Monroe. I told them about my participation in the BDSM lifestyle and was amazed that neither man raised an eyebrow. I told them about having been intimate with Lisa at dungeon parties before I met my wife. I told them that she’d been using that past to force me to be her ‘friend’ but that she offered more and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  McDonald took down her name and particulars without a change of expression or sideways glance at his partner. I felt such incredible guilt for not going to the police earlier, for not stopping this whole thing months earlier, when I realized who Lisa was and when she kept trying to be part of my life, but I didn’t want my perfect life to be upended.

  Now, that’s exactly what happened. My baby was almost twelve weeks early, and my wife was in critical condition due to internal injuries and possible brain damage. I covered my eyes with my hand and wept.

  The two officers said nothing while I tried to regain my composure, offering no sympathy nor passing any judgement. Once I was in control again, they continued the interview, asking about Lisa and whether we had been intimate since we met again.

  “No,” I said and shook my head. “No, I refused her advances. She tried to get me to comply, but I refused. I told her we could be colleagues but nothing else.”

  If they believed me, they didn’t show it. I didn’t expect them to believe me. How many cheating husbands had they interviewed over the years? How many spouses had they interviewed who had a hand in their partner’s death?

  When they were finished with the interview, McDonald handed me his card. “If you think of anything else that might help us track down who did this to your wife, please call me at that number.”

  I took the card and tucked it into my jacket pocket and then went to see my baby.

  I gowned and masked up and went to where they had Sophia. I saw her in the incubator in the NICU, and felt a tightness in my chest.

  My daughter.

  She was doing surprisingly well and had pinked up a bit, her skin not so red. At just over three pounds, she was at a good weight for survival, but there were still a lot of potential complications. They had removed the tube that fed her oxygen directly to her lungs for her condition had improved since delivery. They kept her on oxygen because her lungs weren’t as developed as they should be but she had on a CPAP instead of being intubated, the plastic tube covering her nose.

  She also had an IV, a feeding tube and several leads on her tiny chest, so they could monitor her breathing and heart, but she looked good. Her diaper was huge on her tiny body, and she had a pink tag on her ankle with her identification.

  “She’s doing well,” the NICU nurse said with a smile. “Surprisingly well given her gestational age, but each baby is individual. Do you want to touch her? You can.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said and went to the incubator, my blue gown billowing out around me, my mask muffling the sound of my voice. I slipped my hand in the opening and stroked her tiny head, watching as she slept, tears blurring my vision. When an alarm went off on a neighboring incubator, Sophia startled and her tiny limbs jerked. I pulled my hand away, but then she settled down again and so I continued to touch her.

  “Hi, Sophia,” I said to her, even though she could probably not really hear me over the hiss of oxygen. “Daddy’s here, and is watching over you.”


  I had to bite back more tears, and smiled as I watched her, amazed that this was our baby. I hadn’t expected to see her so soon, but I was thankful that she was alive and doing well.

  I stayed for as long as I could but then it was time for the nurses to do a check so I pulled my hand out and moved away, watching as they checked her over and spoke amongst themselves.

  I left the NICU, removing my gown and face mask and gloves, so I could go back and see if Ethan and Elaine had arrived, but they were still not there. I imagined that it would take some time to get Ethan up and ready.

  As to Kate, I was now allowed to go see her so I gowned back up and went inside her tiny ICU bay and watched her, taking her hand in mine and squeezing.

  “Kate,” I said. “Katie, I’m here. I just saw our daughter, Sophia, and she’s doing fine. She’s breathing on her own and is stable.”

  There was no response except for the bleep bleep of her monitors and the hiss of oxygen, but I didn’t care. I wanted to talk to her and let her know I was there. As a neurosurgeon, I knew that although she might not seem to hear me, she might be unable to respond. Even if she couldn’t hear me, she might sense that someone was there.

  I hoped that was the case.

  “You’re doing fine,” I said, clearing my throat, trying to sound hopeful. I didn’t know for certain that she was fine, although she was stable. I hadn’t had a chance to read her most recent vitals, nor had she gone for her second CT scan yet. They had done one when she first came in, but it was negative. The first twenty-four hours were critical. If she had any swelling in her brain due to a hemorrhage or damage to any part of her brain, she could remain unconscious for some time and potentially lose function if and when she did wake up.

  “Come back to me,” I whispered, kissing her hand, her palm, her fingers. “I can’t do this without you.”

  I heard a rustle at the door to the alcove and turned to see Ethan and Elaine standing in the hallway. I let go of Kate’s hand after kissing it once more and left her, knowing that Ethan would want to go in and see his beloved daughter. As much as I hated leaving her, I had to let him in.

  “Ethan,” I said when I emerged from Kate’s room.

  “Son,” he said and opened his arms, his face pale, his eyes dark under a furrowed brow. I had to admit I welcomed the show of affection and we embraced, Ethan clapping my back. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “Kate’s nurse told us what happened and how she is. What do you know?”

  I shook my head and we ended the embrace. I was barely able to speak.

  “Nothing more than you do,” I said and wiped my eyes. “She’s being kept sedated until her vitals stabilize and then they’ll wake her up. They’ll be taking her for a second head CT to check on any swelling or bleeding on her brain. We’ll know more then but her first CT looked good.”

  “How is Sophia?” Elaine asked, giving me a hug as well. “The nurse said she was doing well.”

  “She is,” I said and nodded, my emotions overwhelming me. “She’s beautiful and is breathing on her own already. She’s strong.” I smiled through my tears, thinking of Sophia in her incubator.

  “Can we go in and see Katie?” Ethan asked, his mind focused on his daughter. “She was there for me, and I want to be there for her.”

  The nurse had come over to us and was listening.

  “Yes, go right ahead, but only one person at a time.”

  “Ethan, you go in and talk to her,” Elaine said. “I’ll go and see Sophia in the NICU.”

  “There’s a chair beside the bed and you can sit for a few minutes,” the nurse said and pointed to Kate’s room. Ethan made his way into the room and leaned over Kate with some difficulty, managing his semi-useless arm and cane as best he could so he could take Kate’s hand and kiss it.

  My chest tightened at the sight of the two of them together as I remembered Kate with Ethan just over a year earlier when he had his stroke.

  “I’ll go to the NICU,” Elaine said and laid a hand on my arm. “You stay here and help Ethan if he needs a hand. I know my way,” she said and leaned up to kiss my cheek. “Poor Drake,” she said softly. “You must have been frantic.”

  “I tried to keep calm, but I felt sick when I got the call from Kate’s bodyguard that she’d been in a hit and run.”

  “Her bodyguard?” Elaine said, her face shocked. “When did she get a bodyguard and why?”

  “It’s a long story, Elaine,” I said. “We can talk about it later. Go and see Sophia. She looks really good for twenty-nine weeks.” I smiled and gave her another brief hug and she went down the hallway towards the bank of elevators.

  My phone rang, and I checked the call display. It was Fred Parker. I answered.

  “Drake,” he said, his voice alarmed. “I just heard that Kate was hit by a car by Central Park. Did they find who did it?”

  “No,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Not yet, but they have a partial plate and think it’s a rental. They’ll track it down.”

  There was a silence on the other end for a moment. “What is it, Fred?”

  “It’s just that, I called Lisa in this afternoon after you left and let her go, so I was worried that maybe she was angry…”

  “You let her go?” I said, dread filling me that this was all my fault.

  “I spoke with a few of the other department heads and they concurred that she wasn’t a good fit with the program, given her behavior. She was upset, of course, but she didn’t say or do anything to make me suspect she might do something like this…”

  I rubbed my forehead. “We don’t know for sure that she did it,” I said, although it seemed like a real possibility. “But I think she may have.”

  “I’m so sorry if this is my fault, Drake,” Fred said. “I never for a moment imagined that she could do something like this.”

  “I understand,” I said, and sighed, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “If she did, I’m sure the police will find her. Right now, I’m more concerned with Kate and my daughter.”

  “How are they?”

  I recounted what had happened and their current status and we ended the conversation. Before he hung up, Fred apologized once more.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, a bit lightheaded at the news it was probably Lisa. “It was my fault, if anyone’s to blame, for not dealing with this when I first was alarmed by her behavior.”

  We hung up and I took out McDonald’s card and called the number, relaying to him the information that Lisa’s residency had been cancelled because of my complaint about her harassment. He thanked me for the information and then I went back to the room to check on Ethan. He was seated beside the bed, Kate’s hand in his, his head bowed. He appeared to be praying, his eyes closed, his lips moving silently. I didn’t want to interrupt, so I sat back in the waiting room.

  We spent all evening in that room, and when the nurse shooed Ethan out of Kate’s room, Elaine took his place at Kate’s side.

  “Why don’t you come with me to the NICU and we can see little Sophia,” I said and took his arm, helping him down the hallway to the elevators. He was entranced by Sophia, and was choked up with emotion as he watched the nurses handle her, changing her diaper and adjusting her oxygen feed.

  So went the night with the three of us taking turns at Kate’s bedside or visiting Sophia. Little Sophie was still doing well, and in fact, seemed to have improved as the hours passed.

  Ethan and Elaine went home at my insistence, and I lay on the couch in the waiting room and caught a few hours of sleep. I could have used one of the on-call rooms but I didn’t want to be too far from the ICU so I could keep tabs on her vitals. I woke up early, the noise of the shift change waking me as the staff made their way off or onto the ward.

  After I washed my face and brushed my teeth with the extra toothbrush I kept in my office, I went to check on Kate. I read over her chart and saw that she was stable, her vitals all fine. They were going to do another CT to check and see if anything had c
hanged and then would let her wake up.

  I grabbed a cup of coffee and muffin from the cafeteria, feeling very strange to be a family member of a patient instead of a physician looking after patients. The role did not sit well with me. I liked to be in charge and it was hard for me to let go of control and allow my colleagues to do their jobs.

  Ethan and Elaine arrived early, and I could see the fatigue on their faces. The few hours of sleep they had were not enough, but like me, they could not sit at home and wait for news.

  Ethan went back in and spent some time with Kate and once more, I saw him speaking with her. I would have liked to hear what he was saying, but knew that whatever it was, it would be loving and supportive and encouraging.

  Then, the orderly arrived to take Kate for her second CT. I went into the room and helped Ethan up and out the door.

  “You can go back in later, when she returns from the CT scan,” I said, knowing that he was probably reluctant to leave Kate. I was doing my best to hold it together, but was running on adrenaline and caffeine at that point.

  While we waited for Kate to return from her CT, the three of us went to the NICU and took turns visiting with Sophia. She was doing well, considering her gestational age and the fact she had been born after a trauma to her mother. I felt bad that she hadn’t been held yet by anyone in her family, but the nurse said that we could pick her up and hold her soon. In fact, they encouraged it once the baby was stable and was not at risk of destabilizing their blood pressure or oxygen levels. Until then, we had to get by with touching Sophia and holding her tiny hand, speaking with her. I heard Elaine singing a soft lullaby to Sophia while she sat with her for a few moments, and it made my heart swell with gratitude that Sophia had such a loving family.

  On my part, I talked to Sophia, telling her all about her mother and her family, about her grandfather Liam, and about her half-brother who had been named after him. I wondered whether Liam and Sophia would ever get to know each other and what kind of relationship they would have. Most of all, I told her about how happy I was that she had been born, and how I couldn’t wait to get her home with her mother and me so that we could start our new life together.