Chapter Eighteen
Startled awake to the sound of her phone ringing, Shannon’s heart leapt up into her throat. One quick glance at the clock told her it was two in the morning.
“H...” she cleared her throat and tried again. “Hello.”
“Mrs. McKenzie?”
Oh God. It was never a good sign when people called her Mrs. McKenzie. “Yes.” Her head began to pound in tune with her heart.
“I’m Doctor Splaine from St. Joseph’s Hospital in Denver. There’s been an accident and your son Cameron has been injured.”
Shannon had a hard time replying because her entire body shuddered, causing her to nearly drop the phone. A huge part of her was afraid to ask how badly her son was hurt. So instead of answering the good doctor, she a prayed to God to spare her son’s life.
“He’s pretty banged up. Broke several bones.”
She’d had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach when she’d gone to bed, almost as though she knew. “How...how bad is it?” She held her breath and waited.”
“Unfortunately...”
Oh God, her hand flew to her throat. Here it comes.
“He suffered a severe blow to the head. He’s unconscious. We had to operate on his leg because of a compound fracture and he lost quite a bit of blood. However, that’s not my concern right now. His head injury is. How soon can you get here?”
Shannon’s life became a tunnel, and the phone and the person on the other end were billions of miles away. Miles she’d never be able to travel in time. This could not be happening, not to her Cameron. Somehow she reeled herself back to the situation at hand and managed to answer with what she thought was someone else’s voice entirely.
“First flight out.”
“Good.”
After the call ended, she stared at the wall, trying to come to terms with what the doctor told her. Cameron hurt. Hurt badly. His head injured. And then the reality of the situation slammed into her, and she cried for five solid minutes before she reeled herself in once again and dreaded what she had to do next. She had to call John. She’d dialed his number thousands of times before, but she couldn’t remember it now. It took her three tries to get it right. Her brain had gone numb along with the rest of her body. When she heard John’s clipped voice answer, she broke down again and began to blubber. It was a wonder John understood anything she said. He would make the travel arrangements as she drove to his house.
Frantically she tossed clothes carelessly into an overnight bag, pulled on jeans and a sweater and grabbed her leather jacket on her way out the door. As she drove, squinting through her tears, she thought about the fact that Mitch had gone home. She wished he’d stayed because she wasn’t confident in her driving skills at the moment.
It was a dark and drizzly night, and Shannon never did much care for driving at night in the rain. The glare from other car lights nearly blinded her. She leaned forward, white knuckling the steering wheel and drove as fast as she possibly could. When she approached the exit, she said her silent thanks to God for getting her safely to John’s and her hands loosened their grip on the steering wheel somewhat. Several miles later, she pulled up to his well-lit antique colonial.
Before she could knock, the door flew open and she found herself wrapped in John’s arms. He stroked her back as she quivered in shock and fear of the unknown. “I couldn’t get us a flight until seven in the morning. Come in and get comfortable.”
Shannon entered their family room and sat on the couch. The television glowed in the dark telling her John must’ve been watching it. He left her briefly and came back carrying a pillow and blanket. “You might as well sleep for a couple hours.”
Shannon took the things he offered and tried to settle in. But she knew sleep would never be possible. “Will you stay with me?”
John sighed, ran his hands through his hair and her cheeks heated with embarrassment. Why would he stay with her when he had Cheryl’s comforting arms waiting for him in their bed? She took a deep breath and let him off the hook. “Never mind, I think I might sleep after all.”
He raised a brow. “You sure?”
She waved him off. “Go. Just don’t forget to set the alarm.”
Before he left, he shut off the television and Shannon found herself alone in the room. The glow from the nightlight plugged into the wall gave her welcomed comfort. She lay on the couch and prayed. When she felt there was nothing left she could do or pray about she turned the television back on, muted the volume and rummaged around in her pocketbook for her cell phone. She desperately needed to hear Cole’s voice. She didn’t want to call her parents or her sisters or Mitch until she had a better understanding of Cameron’s injuries. She scrolled through her address book, touched Cole’s name and counted the rings until she heard his deep, sleepy voice answer on the third ring.
“Hello.”
“Hi, sorry I woke you.”
Bed covers rustled. “Shannon, honey is everything okay?”
“No,” she choked out. “I’m at John’s house and we’re on our way to Denver.” She paused, hoping to stop her voice from vibrating. “Cameron was in an accident.”
Cole groaned and cursed. “How bad is it?”
She explained what she knew, which wasn’t much.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital tomorrow.”
“But...what about AJ?”
“I can’t take his body back until it’s released from the autopsy, probably three days, besides I’d go stir crazy here worrying about Cameron.” He paused and added, “Worrying about you.”
She began to cry. Jeez, she’d done nothing but cry lately, albeit she had plenty of reasons.
Shannon kept Cole on the phone for over an hour. They talked about everything and anything. Talking to him was easy. It seemed as if she could tell him anything, and he’d understand. Not to mention hearing his voice soothed her. He understood her so well. If she didn’t already accept their connection, she’d be freaked out that someone knew her almost better than she knew herself. And hell, maybe he did. She finally let him go because her battery kept flashing low. So before her phone died, she hung up and lay there silently as her heart pounded so loudly against her ribs they hurt.
The hell with cardio workouts, all it took to get one’s heart rate pumping was having a family crisis.
John came in to wake her not long after she’d hung up with Cole and she was ready. The sun had yet to rise, but at least the rain had let up. As they walked to her car John held out his hand. “I’ll drive.” Relieved, she gladly handed the keys over.
John drove in silence so she sat back and listened to her car stereo. When a BlackJack song played she witnessed John physically tense up. So even though Cole was innocent of Lindsey’s death, John still didn’t approve. Too damn bad for him. She was going for the brass ring. He had, so why not her?
They breezed into Logan Airport as traffic was light this early in the morning. When they went through security, John removed his shoes. She almost laughed at the expression on his face when they both saw his big toe protruding through his sock.
“Did you forget you had to remove your shoes?”
“Nope. These were the only matching socks I could find.”
“Having a hard time with the laundry?”
He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath which Shannon was quite sure wasn’t nice.
The flight left on time and was uneventful. They arrived in Denver almost on time to the minute. If only all of her flights went this smoothly. Which reminded her she had to contact her publicist and cancel her tour on the west coast. Christ, with all the worries and thoughts going on in her head, how had that popped up?
They drove straight to the hospital from the airport and the closer she got the more nauseated she was. She’d not eaten anything, but that didn’t mean her stomach didn’t want to revolt and throw up something. She swallowed and fought the bile down as she clasped her hands on her lap to keep them steady. Her whole b
ody ached from her trembling and tense muscles. When they pulled up to the hospital, she felt almost faint from stress and anxiety and shit—fear. Fear of the unknown. Without a word, she linked her arm through John’s, hoping to help steady her legs and hoping his were steady enough for both of them.
They entered through the main lobby, went to the volunteer at the desk who gave them Cameron’s room number. When Shannon walked down the long sterile hallway, it gave her the illusion of getting longer and narrower, making her wonder if she’d ever reach the end before the walls closed in on her, crushing her, suffocating her, causing her to never see her son again. With a huge sigh of relief, she finally did reach the end.
One of the nurses at the station outside Cameron’s room stopped them before they could enter. “May I help you?”
John answered for them in his deep commanding voice. “Yes. We’re Cameron McKenzie’s parents.”
“Go on in, I’ll page Doctor Splaine and let him know you’ve arrived.”
“Thank you,” John mumbled and practically sprinted toward his son’s door.
When Shannon stepped inside the first thing she noticed was his left leg up in traction, his right arm in a cast and his head bandaged. She sucked in her breath as she took in the many cuts and bruises on his face.
His ribs were wrapped as well. My God, he was banged up badly. But he’d survived. Yes, thank God. He’d survived. They’d actually heard a radio report about the crash on the way here. There had been over a dozen vehicles involved. Heavy fog played a huge part in it. It started when a truck carrying logs jack-knifed causing a chain reaction. There were several fatalities. She tried not to let her mind drift into dangerous places. But it was impossible, and she couldn’t help but think Cameron could become one of those casualties?
Shannon stood paralyzed to the floor as she thought about what ifs? Jesus, she honestly didn’t know how she would go on if the worst happened. And her heart bled for those families who had lost cherished loved ones in the crash.
She fought down her tears. She would be strong from now on and cry on the inside, not outside. Gently, she placed her hand on Cameron’s unbroken arm and was shocked when his eyes fluttered open, one all the way, the bruised one only part way. He licked his parched lips. “Mom, Dad,” he said, sounding weak and dazed.
The doctor had said he was unconscious. She expected to find him in a coma. Relief washed over her, and her knees nearly gave way so she rested against the side of his bed. She couldn’t begin to explain how it felt to see her beautiful son’s hazel eyes staring at her. “Does it hurt badly?”
“I’m sorry,” he strained to talk. “I was on my way back home. I got off and turned around. I missed you.”
Shannon’s heart fluttered and she took his hand in hers, the one without the cast. The hand with the intravenous line feeding him much needed fluids and medicine. Tears streamed down John’s face as he rested his hand on Cameron’s shoulder and said, “its okay. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you’re going to be okay. You’ll heal and be fine.”
“Do me a favor,” Cameron struggled to speak, and Shannon could well imagine the painkillers throwing him for a loop. “I keep asking for Amber and nobody will tell me anything.” His eyes bored into hers, and she saw the fear and desperation in them. “Find Amber for me,” he pleaded.
“I’ll find her. Don’t you worry,” she said gently.
He closed his eyes and slept in a drug induced state, leaving Shannon to wonder who Amber was?
“Mr. and Mrs. McKenzie, I’m Doctor Splaine. I spoke with you, Mrs. McKenzie, on the phone.”
“It’s Gallagher. Shannon Gallagher.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Gallagher.” He turned toward John. “Are you Mr. McKenzie?”
“Yes.”John shook the doctor’s hand.
Doctor Splaine gestured toward the doorway. “Why don’t we speak in the lounge, and I’ll fill you in on everything.”
Shannon and John followed the stone-faced, tall, slim, middle-aged doctor to a small waiting room at the end of the pristine white hall. There were several anxious looking people waiting there. They took three seats in a row, and Doctor Splaine explained Cameron’s injuries in great detail. Not only did he break his wrist, he broke his leg in two places, one resulted in a compound fracture and they had to insert rods. He broke several ribs and punctured his lung. He also had a serious concussion as well as many lacerations and bruises. Yet he was a lucky boy. Out of the fifteen people on the bus, only nine survived the crash.
Shannon reached for John’s hand and squeezed it. A thousand questions raced through her mind, but they all seemed trivial in light of the fact so many lives were lost and her son survived. There was one question, however.
“Cameron asked for a girl, Amber. Can you tell me anything about her?”
Doctor Splaine exhaled and his features turned grim.
Shannon didn’t think she wanted to hear what he had to say.
“We came across her student identification card an hour ago and just notified her father. Unfortunately it doesn’t look good.”
Shannon bit her lip to hold back an anguished cry for this Amber person she didn’t know. She must, however, be the girl Cameron appeared to be traveling with.
The doctor continued, “other than that I can’t divulge anything else without her father’s consent.”
“How old is she?” Silly question but the only one Shannon could think to ask?
“Seventeen,” he replied.
Oh God, the poor girl and the poor father. “Could you please let me know when Amber’s father arrives?”
“Yes.” He unfolded his long, lanky body and stood. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Nothing now, thanks for everything you’ve done,” John replied as Shannon suddenly looked a million miles away and the miles between here and there were laced with sadness and pain.
For the next several hours Shannon and John sat vigil beside Cameron’s bed. He slept most of the time, but occasionally he’d wake up and try to smile. His nurse came and went. The lab came and drew blood. The respiratory therapist came in and checked his lungs. The orthopedic surgeon came to check his broken ribs and his handy work with his broken arm and his leg. It was, Shannon mused, as though Cameron’s hospital room had a revolving door. But it was a good thing. They were taking very good care of him.
Shannon’s body was completely drained of all energy, and her brain barely functioned. She’d gone way beyond tired. The chair she sat in was okay at best, and every few minutes she felt herself fading out and her head would drop forward and then she’d snap it back up. One of these times she was going to slither off the chair and hit the ground. At least maybe then she could get some much needed rest.
A knock sounded on the door, causing Shannon’s head to snap up again.
“Hey, can I come in?” said a gorgeous, but exhausted looking man, her man, and her heart fluttered.
“Sure.”
He reached her side in three long strides, she stood and then fell into his outstretched arms. He held her tight, stroking her hair and murmuring soothing words into her ear.
***
“I’m here. Everything will be okay.” He pulled back and kissed her mouth, tasting her salty tears. He wanted nothing more than to inhale her, but this was neither the time nor the place. Reluctantly he peeled his lips from hers, looked at Cameron and sucked in air as pain pierced his chest. Cole dropped his arms and reached for Shannon’s hand with one of his and entwined them together. “How is he?”
Shannon explained everything she knew and what muscles Cole had that were not already tense, tightened up. Cameron looked awful, young, pale and fragile lying in the bed against the stark white sheets. He struggled to fight back his own tears, which in the past twenty-four hours was nothing new.
“He’s strong and he’s a fighter. He’ll be up and around in no time.” Cole prayed his words rang true. They had to for Shannon’s sake, for John’s and for his own an
d especially for Cameron’s.
Shannon squeezed his hand and leaned closer into him with her head resting against his. Her scent drifted to his nostrils, reminding him how much he’d missed her, missed everything about her. He dropped her hand and circled his arms around her waist, pulling her close. It was then he noticed John sitting tense and quiet in the corner watching them. Cole might be free from the stigma of being a murderer, but John still clearly didn’t approve of him being with Shannon. Well hell, too bad. He’d have to get over it because nothing could keep him from being with her now. Nothing would stop him from loving her, marrying her and having a family with her. John be dammed.
“Hey John,” he drawled.
“Jackson?”
That went well, Cole mused.
Cameron coughed and all eyes flew to him. His eyes fluttered open and when he saw Cole he smiled big time and his eyes sparkled.
***
Great, John thought. His son never looked at him like that and certainly not when he got here. What was it about the guy that not only his ex-wife, but his son as well, went ape over? Just because he was some big shot musician didn’t they know he put his jeans on one leg at a time like all working stiffs?
He mumbled something and left the room. Coffee, all he could think about was the fact he needed a caffeine boost and a bottle of his favorite pink drink. Suddenly his stomach had turned sour. He stopped his fingers just as they were about to comb through his thinning hair. If he didn’t stop the habit, he’d be bald by next week.
“Excuse me,” said a young nurse from behind the nurses’ station. But then again, everyone seemed young to John lately.
BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1) Page 22