“I’m dispatching a unit now, Mrs. Anderson. Is there anywhere you can pull over until help arrives?”
“I’m scared to pull over! What if they attack me?”
“Can you give me a description of the vehicles?”
I called out as many details as I could as my car drove down the street and I white-knuckled the wheel. It wasn’t much. I was almost to the point of not being able to think. Just then, the man behind me laid on his horn, the disruptive sound blaring through the night.
I heard the acceleration of his car behind me and braced for impact, but none came. When I glanced in the mirror, I couldn’t see his headlights anymore because he was so close.
“Please hurry,” I whispered.
“We’re on our way. Can you pull over?”
I glanced up ahead. There was a gas station with lots of overhead lighting a couple blocks away. “There’s a GoGas station up on my right. I’ll pull in there.”
“I’ll direct the officers.”
Tears ran down my cheeks. I hadn’t even felt them. My stomach and body was so tense it cramped, and the feeling reminded me of the day I lost Evie.
Just thinking about her, just reliving even a fraction of something from that day broke something inside me. A cry ripped from my lips, and I leaned over the steering wheel.
The car beside me swerved in again, and I tried to avoid him. My Range Rover fishtailed a bit, and I fought for control. The lights of the gas station drew closer, offering me some kind of safety. I focused on them, but all I saw was flashes of the press and all I heard was the screeching of tires.
The car at my side slammed over again, this time catching me off guard. I cried out and jerked the wheel, trying with everything I had to avoid getting sideswiped. The car behind me clipped my bumper. I heard it rather than felt it.
The next thing I knew, the Rover was out of my control, skidding off the road and toward the gas station I’d been so desperate to reach.
The huge overhead lights that had once seemed like a beacon and promise of safety, turned out to be just the opposite.
The Range Rover collided head on with one of the cement lamp poles. The ear-splitting sound of crunching metal and the airbag exploding at my face was all I knew.
Burning pain burst across my entire body as dust and debris clogged my airways.
Everything went dark.
Romeo
“Mr. Anderson?” the voice on the other end of the phone said.
“This is Roman Anderson,” I said, a feeling of dread worming its way through my guts.
“This is Paul Ryken. I’m a first responder in Maryland. I’m calling to let you know I’m here with your wife,”
“What!” I yelled. My fingers went numb. I fumbled to hold the phone. Black spots swam before my vision as I struggled to hear everything.
“She was involved in a car accident tonight. We’re at the scene now. I wanted to let you know she’s being transported to Primary Hospital—”
The phone hit my foot. I didn’t even know where it went after that.
Now here I was in a helicopter, on my way to the hospital. I had no idea what Rim’s condition was, but it didn’t matter.
I was scared.
More scared than I’d been in my entire life.
Including the day we’d lost Evie and I watched Rimmel nearly crumble.
Never again. I didn’t want to do that ever again.
A fine tremor worked through my joints, always there, reminding me nothing was steady, nothing was solid. It wouldn’t be ever again until I saw my wife, until she looked at me with clear eyes that weren’t wracked with pain.
“Almost there,” Braeden said quietly at my side.
My eyes flicked to the window. All I saw were lights. Lights that blurred together.
I should have asked what her condition was. I should have asked to speak with her. Anything. I should have demanded any shred of information that would make this ride just a little more bearable.
Braeden’s leg was bouncing, his own agitation showing.
The second I rushed off the field, he’d been right at my heels. I couldn’t even tell him what was wrong. I’d just looked up from grabbing my shit out of the locker and said her name.
He knew.
He knew from the tone of my voice, from the rigid set of my body… There was nothing else on this planet that could make me lose my shit like this.
He hadn’t asked for details. He didn’t say anything at all.
Instead, my brother made a call to Gamble himself, roused the man out of a closed-door meeting, and spoke quietly into the line. I was already running toward the exit of the building. Just before I stepped out into the lot—I’d run if I had to—B grabbed me, yanked me back, and pointed to the stairs.
He still spoke, but I didn’t listen. I ran the stairs without even stopping. I took all ten floors double-time.
When I hit the door that led to the roof, I burst through and stared at the sky.
Braeden slid his phone away. “Any second now. You’re going to have to tell the pilot where to go.”
I did. The hospital name ripped right out of me, and Braeden took the news like he’d been punched in the face.
Here we were… the chopper descending out of the sky toward the giant X on a large building.
The second we touched down, I was out, despite warnings from the pilot. The wind was so strong it was like running against gale-force hurricane gusts.
I withstood it.
Nothing, not even wind brought forth by our creator himself, would keep me from getting to her.
Braeden kept pace but fell behind me. Even he knew not to get in my way. I burst into the ER like a man with a bomb strapped to his chest. People stopped what they were doing and stared.
“Where is she?” I bellowed to no one and everyone.
A nurse behind the station rushed around. “Follow me.”
I ran after her. She glanced behind me at B, and I growled. She turned back without another word. I wasn’t putting up with any kind of rules from the staff. We were both going in. No arguments.
It seemed I went down the longest hallway ever, despite the speed at which we walked.
The nurse pointed to the very last room at the end of the hall, and I rushed past. She was smart because she got the hell out of my way. I didn’t hesitate at the door. I didn’t debate on the sight I might find.
I didn’t care.
Please just let her be breathing.
There was a curtain drawn around the bed, still hiding her from sight. It pissed me off, and I grabbed a handful of the material and ripped it back.
“Rimmel!” I roared as I yanked. The sound of seams ripping and metal groaning against metal filled the room.
A nurse looked up from the bedside; her loud gasp didn’t even register.
Rimmel’s body jerked with shock. The bed was in a sitting position, her body relaxed against the mattress. Her eyes went wide like saucers, and her too-pale cheeks began to bloom with faint color.
“Romeo!” Her voice was muffled, and she grabbed at the oxygen mask covering her face.
An oxygen mask.
I had a brief moment of tunnel vision when all I could see was that thing covering her mouth and nose. A thing helping her breathe.
She’s supposed to be able to breathe on her own.
A sound I’d never heard before ripped from deep inside me. I dove at her. My entire body wrapped around hers, and I pulled her close, squeezing her as tight as I dared. Half her body was lifted off the bed. I supported almost all her weight.
She was small. Fragile. So easily broken.
She’s having trouble breathing.
My face disappeared in her neck. The strands of her naturally unruly hair threatened to suffocate me, but I barely noticed. She smelled like home.
She was my entire life.
A tremor racked my chest. I felt it move beneath my ribs.
Her hands splayed out across my back, gripp
ing with strength I thanked God for. A few seconds went by, and she tried to pull back, but I refused to budge. I wasn’t letting go.
Her head wiggled, but I still didn’t move.
“Sir,” the nurse said from the bedside.
I growled.
“Rome,” B said, kicking me lightly. “You’re squishing Rim’s mask.”
I pulled back only inches, enough so she could reach between us and pull down the mask so it hung around her neck.
“Don’t worry. I’m not pregnant.” She hurried to assure me. The tone of her voice nearly severed the only thread that was still holding me together.
But then her words sank in.
I drew back, staring down into her eyes. “Why would you say that to me right now,” I demanded, anger punching me in my already scrambled and twisted guts.
“I…” Her mouth opened and closed, her features surprised.
Did she really think I cared about that more than I did her? What. The. Fuck?
Did she care about that more than herself? Again: What. The. Fuck?
I made a sound, unable to even process that shit. I grabbed her close again, holding her tighter than I should. “It’s you I’m worried about, baby. Only you.”
I felt her hands on my face, my cheeks; she was smoothing her cool fingers over my overheated skin. “I’m okay. Everything is fine.”
“You need to put the oxygen back on,” the nurse told Rimmel, stepping closer.
My head whipped around, my arms yanking her back into my chest. Daggers flashed from my eyes. I felt them piercing her busybody skin. She took a step back. I actually saw a look of fear cross her face.
“I got her,” I intoned.
“But the doctor—” she protested.
Was she really fucking speaking? Oh, hells no.
I started to pull back from Rim, my spine rigid, eyes locked on a nurse who should have just turned around and run.
Once again, Braeden intervened. “Why don’t you go get the doctor, ma’am? We’d like to talk to him.”
He physically guided her away from my wife. I stared at her the entire way. Braeden was muttering some shit about how I was half out of my mind and how the long ride messed with my head…
Bunch of bullshit.
She left the room, and all my attention zeroed back in on my wife. I glanced down. She was literally plastered against me. I gentled my hold and pulled her back a fraction.
“Is anything broken?” I asked, praying to God there wasn’t.
“No.”
I shifted, lifting her completely, and slid my body under hers. She settled between my legs, her back against my chest. I locked my arms around her waist and pushed her head back against my chest.
Braeden came back in the room and looked Rim up and down. “Tutor girl, this shit ain’t funny.”
“Good thing I’m not joking,” she said. Her voice was weak and strained. She sounded a little high. There were some red, aggravated cuts and scratches on her face… and her glasses were missing.
I didn’t like it.
Her body felt like rubber against mine, like she was too weak to even hold herself up.
Braeden came forward like he was going to lean in and kiss her.
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” I rumbled. B shifted back and dropped into a chair right beside the bed.
“Roman Anderson!” Rimmel scolded, but it lacked her usual charm and heat.
It made my heart squeeze.
“It’s all right, sis. I’ll touch you later. When it ain’t a threat to my life.”
“What the hell happened, Rim? Why did I get a call from a stranger that took about twenty years off my life?”
“Maybe you should put the mask back on your face,” B said, leaning forward, his eyes intent on Rimmel.
I leaned around her, scrutinizing her face. It was pale. Her lips were cracked, and her eyes seemed even larger than normal.
I cursed low and gently lifted the mask, pressing it over her nose and mouth.
She rolled her eyes.
“Hush,” I told her and adjusted the straps so they held it around her head. After I smoothed her hair back, I leaned back, bringing her with me. “Just breathe,” I said. “You can tell us later.”
I wanted to know now, but it wasn’t the most important thing.
The doctor came in the room, wearing green scrubs and a lab coat, a stethoscope hanging around his neck. The nurse hovered in the doorway, unsure if she should come in.
“Mr. Anderson?” he said, staring at me in the bed.
“Yes.” I dared him to tell me to move.
He didn’t.
“I’m Dr. Westfall.” He gave me his hand. I released Rim long enough to shake it.
“Tell me what’s wrong with my wife.”
She pulled the oxygen off her face again. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just shaken up.”
The doctor glanced at Braeden. I made a rude sound. “He’s her brother.”
Dr. Westfall nodded brusquely. “Your wife was involved in a car crash this evening. Her vehicle ran off the road and hit a cement light post.”
My body went rigid under hers. Braeden jerked up in his seat. “How the hell did that happen?” I demanded.
The doctor cleared his throat. “The airbags deployed. Rimmel was hit in the face and chest. Even though the impact was heavy, she sustained minor injuries, including bruising from the seatbelt, a sore chest from the airbag, a bloody nose, and some superficial cuts and scratches to her face from her glasses shattering.”
Her glasses shattered against her face. “A bloody nose…” I murmured. The mental image of Rim with blood on her wasn’t something I ever wanted.
“As I already discussed with her, she may have a rash tomorrow from the airbag hitting her face, and a slight cough is a common occurrence for the next day or so, as a lot of dust is usually inhaled when an airbag deploys.”
“Is that why she’s on oxygen?” Braeden asked.
I wanted to know, too, but I was still trying to get past the fact she was in her car when it slammed into a fucking cement pole. Thank God I made her get a Range Rover. If she’d been in something smaller, less safe, this could have been so much worse.
Maybe for her next car, I’d just buy a damn tank.
“No, that was because she had a severe panic attack when she first arrived,” the doctor replied.
Rimmel glanced down. I noted the way her head tilted as if she were embarrassed.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whispered, hugging her close. Her hand slid around my forearm and gripped. What the fuck happened that caused her to have a panic attack? The accident? Or was it something more?
“The oxygen will help open up her lungs, though, so it might prevent a cough,” the doctor said. “I can’t say for sure.”
“Did you hit your head?” I asked, reaching up to gently probe her scalp.
“No, I didn’t.”
“No concussion, and I see no reason for her to stay overnight.” He glanced at Rimmel. “Are you feeling better? Do you feel like you need to stay?”
“I’m better now. I’d like to go home.”
“If you start feeling worse or have a terrible headache, anything like we discussed, come back to the ER immediately.”
“I will.”
“Okay, well, if there are no other questions, I’ll have the nurse bring in your discharge papers.”
I held my hand out to the doctor. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” he returned, then took his leave.
“Your driving has officially hit a new low, tutor girl. You’re supposed to stay on the road,” Braeden cracked when the doctor was gone.
“They ran me off the road!” Rimmel wailed and promptly burst into tears.
A few things happened at once:
1.) I told Braeden he was a fucking moron and I was going to nut punch him.
2.) I grabbed Rimmel up into my lap and pressed her tearstained face into my shirt.
3.) I got r
eally, really fucking furious.
She just said someone ran her off the road. As in they deliberately tried to hurt her.
“All right now, baby.” I tried to calm her down. It was like she’d been holding it in until the nurse and doctor left.
Braeden was on his feet, pacing right beside the bed. He gave me an apologetic look, and I glared at him. Without even considering the fact I was going to beat his ass, he sat on the bed, practically taking up all my space.
His hand went to Rim’s back. “Hey, I’m sorry, sis. I was just joking. Guess it was too soon. I’m an asshole. You’re a good driver.”
She sniffled, rubbing her face into my shirt.
“Rimmel…” Braeden tried again.
“Back off.” I warned.
She pulled away from me and hugged B. He hesitated a second before enclosing her in his arms.
The nurse walked in. “I have your—”
“We’re busy!” Both B and I snapped.
She backed out of the room, and we ignored her.
“I’m sorry.” Rimmel released Braeden and hiccupped. I pulled her against me once more.
“Baby, did you say someone ran you off the road?” I asked, trying not to push her but really freaking desperate to find out what the fuck was going on and why we were sitting in this ER.
“You guys came all the way here from… Where were you again?” She lifted her head and looked at me. It was like she hadn’t even heard my question. She was lost in her own thoughts.
“We were in New York. Thank fuck it wasn’t Cali,” I muttered. That was where I’d be soon. Hell, just thinking of being on the other side of the country made me break out into a cold sweat.
“How did you get here so fast?” she asked.
“I called Gamble. He was in town, and we used his chopper,” B answered.
“Thank you for coming.” Her voice was so sincere.
“As if we wouldn’t.” B scoffed.
I couldn’t talk. It was like all the words I wanted to say crowded in my throat and choked me, making it impossible to get anything out.
There was so much I wanted to tell her, so much I wanted to know.
She noticed my silence. I wasn’t sure she understood it. But I think she thought it was her fault. I hated she thought she was somehow to blame. But in way… she was.
#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8) Page 18