****
Time seemed to pass at a turtle’s pace. With every glance at the clock, anxiety pulled at Zoe’s muscles like weights, tightening her shoulders and neck. As her anxiety rose, so did her anger. Damn the man responsible for Brett’s injuries. She wished every vile thing she could think of on him while stifling the urge to scream.
She paced the floor more out of a need to burn off some of her emotion than an inherent restlessness.
Hawk arrived bringing with him the scent of the ocean. Just seeing him brought every defense she had crashing down. Her fear for her brother spurred her toward him, and she pressed close.
“What is it?” he asked, his arms tight around her. It was a moment before she could trust her composure and explain what Dr. Connelly was going to try.
His features grew taut and his black brows fisted. “How dangerous is this?”
“Connelly said he believed the benefits outweighed the risks. There could be a few side effects, but that’s all. Brett doesn’t have much to lose at this point, Hawk.”
His jaw tightened. “I suppose not.”
She started to tell him the rest, but held back. If she repeated Dr. Connelly’s words, it would give them credence. If she gave them credence, she’d begin to accept them. She wasn’t ready to do that yet, not as long as there were other things they could try. Not while there was still hope Brett would wake up.
She moved to her brother’s side. They had removed the bandages from his head and pale bristle-like fuzz was beginning to cover his scalp. The liquid nutrition, fed into a tube through his nose and down the back of his throat, was keeping him from losing weight, but his muscle tone was growing less pronounced. They had begun to turn him more often to make certain he didn’t develop bedsores. She wanted to grab him and shake him. Her throat ached with her desire to scream at him to wake up.
Hawk’s hands rested on her shoulders from behind offering comfort. The gesture brought her emotions close to the surface, and her eyes stung with tears. She wouldn’t give into them. To give into them was like giving up.
“It’s going to be all right, Zo.”
She nodded. She folded her arms and leaned back against him, drawing strength from his closeness.
He slipped an arm around her waist. When Angela came in, he continued to hold Zoe. The nurse piggybacked a new IV onto the one Brett already had in his arm, and hung the bag of medication on the IV pole.
Hope, excitement, and fear crashed together inside Zoe making it difficult for her to breathe. She squeezed Hawk’s arm. “How quickly will it work, if it’s going to?” she asked, her voice sounding husky as it worked around the knot of emotion in her throat.
The nurse looked up as she adjusted the tubing. “It could be minutes, or a few hours, or even days. It just depends on him.”
Zoe nodded, her eyes going to Brett’s face.
Angela gave her arm an encouraging pat as she brushed by. “Call me if there’s any change.”
Zoe gave her a brief nod.
“If Cutter opens his eyes and sees me holding you like this, he’s likely to climb out of bed and kick my butt,” Hawk said as the door closed behind Angela.
It took real work, but she managed a smile as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Don’t take this wrong, but I hope he tries.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze and released her. “Try and relax, Zoe. Like Angela said, it may take a while.”
She sat down beside Brett’s bed and picked up a book she had been attempting to read but didn’t open it.
Hawk settled in the other chair and turned the TV onto a sports channel, but he looked at her instead of the screen.
Brett took a deep breath and turned on his side. The book landed with a dull thud as Zoe leaped to her feet.
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