Still Go Crazy (Swoon Series Book 5)

by J. H. Croix

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Boone

  I felt the rock slide and fall above me, its descent silent. Yet, I could feel it coming right when it struck my shoulder. Hard. My voice pierced the darkness, a gruff shout of pain.

  “You okay?” Walker called.

  We were scaling a cliff in the darkness with floodlights to illuminate the area. Because for the thousandth time, some idiot had taken a slick corner on a winter road in the mountains too fast and hurtled through the guardrail.

  I looked up into the lights angled over the cliff face for our team. I met Walker’s eyes, where he was situated a few feet above me on a little outcropping. My shoulder stiffened as the sharp pain of the rock striking me receded. “I’m okay,” I bit out, relieved I was in a harness with my feet pressed against the rock face.

  “You got this?” Walker asked.

  I couldn’t see his eyes very well. Although we had floodlights shining down from above to assist us, the light was glaring and cast long shadows in the dark, rainy night. Only minutes within receiving this call out, the soft, icy drizzle falling outside had picked up its pace, making a dicey rescue even more questionable.

  “I think so,” I said. “Just need to get a little further down.”

  Wade was at the top, feeding rope down to Walker, who was then feeding it down to me. Jackson was already below me, working to free one of the two passengers out of the vehicle. Fortunately, he had already ascertained that they both appeared okay, beyond minor injuries.

  With Walker steadily lowering me, I bounced further down the cliff, my feet coming to rest on a ledge where the car was cradled at the bottom of this embankment.

  “How’s it looking?” I asked Jackson as I picked my way in the darkness around where the vehicle had landed.

  “All right.” Jackson’s reply was followed by a grunt.

  I rolled my shoulder, testing it to find that it still ached, but my range of motion hadn’t been affected.

  “What do you need?” I stopped at his side, peering inside the vehicle.

  “Hey, man,” the driver slurred.

  “If you could help me prop this door open, we should be able to get them both out on this side,” Jackson explained, nudging the door in question with his knee.

  The passenger rolled his head to the side, his eyes glassy. “My leg is fucking killing me,” he muttered.

  “We’ll have you out in just a few,” I said. I reached inside the window to pull the door latch open. Meanwhile, Jackson curled his hands around the frame. Between the two of us pulling, the door finally gave way and opened abruptly.

  The next few moments passed quickly as Jackson and I checked on the driver and passenger before moving them. The driver had a broken arm, and the passenger had a nasty gash on his forehead and on his leg above his knee.

  “We’ll have to make sure they do the head injury protocol at the hospital,” I murmured to Jackson.

  Jackson nodded before radioing up to the guys waiting at the top of the cliff. More of our crew rappelled down to help us get the guys up to the top of the cliff in safety harnesses. The ambulance was already waiting.

  I was the last to come up, and Walker called down to check on me as he gathered the slack in the climbing rope. “Your shoulder holding up okay?”

  “I’m good. I’m sure I’ll have a bruise and be sore tomorrow,” I called in return.

  I opened my mouth to say something else when I heard him call, “Watch out!”

  When the car had careened through the guardrail, it hit the loose gravel and rocks at the top of this cliff. Another rock came crashing down when I looked up. It didn’t seem too big until it clocked me on the side of the head. Everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Boone

  A beeping sound woke me, and I rolled my head to the side, confused about where I was.

  “What the hell?” I asked abruptly as I sat up. The simple act of speaking and moving sent a sharp pain through my head.

  “Take it easy, Mr. Reeves,” a man’s voice reached me from across the room.

  Befuddled, I collapsed against the pillows and looked around the room, taking in the white walls, the machine beeping beside me, and the hospital bed. “What the hell am I doing in the hospital?”

  I glanced down to see an IV in my arm. The lights were dim, so I presumed it was in the middle of the night. The man finished doing whatever he was doing over at the sink mounted against the wall. Turning, he strode to the side of my bed, quickly tapping a button to look at a screen mounted on a wheeled cart nearby. “Your vitals look good.” The man’s eyes scanned me. He had dark brown hair sprinkled with silver and grayish-blue eyes.

  “Are you my doctor? If so, can you get me the hell out of here?”

  The man shook his head. “No can do, I’m afraid. I’m one of your nurses. Brent Carlson. You won’t be checking out because it’s too early. The doctor on duty tomorrow morning will take a look at everything and decide whether you can be cleared for discharge. Meanwhile, how are you feeling?”

  By Brent’s demeanor, I’d have had no idea it was dark outside. He was far too chipper and cheerful for that. “Can I just leave?” I pressed.

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  “But I feel fine,” I protested as I began to set up, wincing at the sharp, throbbing pain on the side of my head.

  “Yeah, you look like you feel fine,” Brent observed dryly.

  “What the hell happened, and what time is it?”

  Brent turned slightly in his chair, opening a laptop behind him on the counter on the wall. “It’s going on five a.m. Let’s get you some ibuprofen.” I wasn’t going to turn that down, so I nodded. He filled a paper cup from a pitcher of water on the table beside my bed and handed me two pills.

  After I gulped down the ibuprofen, he finally answered my question. “I don’t know what you remember, but you got clocked pretty good on the head with a rock late last night during a rescue operation.”

  As I stared at him, flickers of recognition filtered in. “I remember everything but that part.”

  “I would imagine. It knocked you out completely. You didn’t regain consciousness until after you were in the ambulance.”

  “We’ve been checking you every two hours since you got here and waking you up. It’s part of the head injury protocol.”

  “Damn. Any of my crew around?”

  Brent tilted his head. “It’s not even five a.m. I’m sure they would’ve stayed here in solidarity, but I assured them you were fine. They went home to a well-deserved night of rest. If you need company, I’m here for now.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  “Are you waiting on anyone to visit?” he asked.

  My mind swooped in the direction of Grace, and I wondered if she even knew I was here.

  “What’s that look for?”

  I slid my gaze back to Brent. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

  “I am,” he said brightly. Most of the patients are still asleep. Do tell.”

  “I don’t know if I have a girlfriend,” I said with a sigh, thinking the dull ache in my head was easier to bear than the sight of Grace storming out of the bar last week. She’d been gone for the last two nights. I’d only found out she was at her weekend classes in Asheville from Evie.

  “Oh, darn. You’re straight.”

  That got a chuckle from me. “Yeah, sorry to disappoint you.”

  “No worries. My boyfriend would think you’re cute too. Anyway, I love giving relationship advice to strangers. I’ve also found that straight men can be stupid when it comes to romance, so perhaps I can help.”

  I laughed, ignoring the pain in my head. “Well, the woman I’d like to call my girlfriend accused me of going caveman last week. She said she wanted to slow things down.”

  “Oh dear, caveman? You pulled that stunt?”

  “It all made sense at the time. Some guy who screwed around on her when they dated showed up, and he laughed when I c
alled him out.”

  “Hmm. She didn’t appreciate it, I take it?”

  “No. And we’re just kind of getting back together.”

  Next thing I knew, I spilled the whole messy tale to Brent in my quiet hospital room. He was a good listener. He also told me he didn’t think Grace would have let anything happen between us if she didn’t care.

  “Okay then, what do I do?”

  This was what it had come to. Me asking an almost-stranger in the hospital for relationship advice before the sun came up.

  Brent looked at the clock mounted on the wall at the foot of my bed. “Does she even know you’re here?”

  “Seeing as I didn’t even know why I was here at first, I have no fucking clue if she knows I’m here.”

  Brent nodded slowly. “Good point. Well, I say you call her.”

  “Now?”

  “What time does she normally get up?”

  “Probably six or seven.”

  “Seven. It’s safe.”

  “And what?”

  “Am I gonna have to give you a script?”

  Leaning my head back into the pillows, I let out a sigh. “No. I just want to skip through this to the part where she trusts me again, and it’s all okay.”

  “It sounds like some of her baggage has nothing to do with you, so you might have to be patient. Tell her you know you were an idiot, you know you overshot, and tell her you fucking love her. I bet you haven’t, have you?”

  “I was trying not to rush,” I mumbled sheepishly.

  “You have to walk that fine line between not pressuring her, but letting her know precisely how you feel and how important she is to you. If she’s a woman who has trouble with trust—and based on everything you told me she has plenty of reason for that—then you’ve got to stack the deck in your favor as far as giving her a reason to trust you. That means telling her how you feel and letting her know you’re there when she’s ready.”

  “Why should I trust you on all this? You don’t even date women.”

  Brent’s brows hitched up as he pinned me with a look. “Seriously? The worst people to ask for dating advice are straight men.”

  At that moment, his pager beeped. After a quick glance at it, he looked back at me. “I actually need to check on someone. How’s your head feeling by the way?” he asked, his demeanor shifting to all business in a matter of seconds.

  Lifting my hand, I wiggled it back and forth. “Better. What’s the protocol?”

  “If you fall asleep, we wake you up every two hours until you stay awake. When you go home, you’ll need someone to monitor you until you’ve passed the twenty-four-hour window. That’ll be later tonight. You needed stitches on the side there.”

  “I did?” I lifted my hand to find my hair buzzed short on one side.

  “Yeah, I’d recommend a full trim. It’s looking like a haircut gone wrong,” he said as he stood. “I’ll check back by seven to make sure you’re awake to give Grace a call.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Grace

  It was foggy this morning. Main Street in Stolen Hearts Valley was shrouded in mist as I came to a stop and parked my car across the street from Wake & Bake Café. I was trying to ignore the yearning that just wouldn’t quit for Boone. I’d gotten home from Asheville late last night and wrestled with the disappointment of finding his truck gone. It had now been five days since I’d seen him. It felt like far more than that.

  The truth was I loved him, and I’d never stopped. I marveled at how well I’d avoided facing this truth for years. While there’d been enough chemistry with John at the beginning to push me into thinking I could move on, it had dissipated quickly. John had only added another layer to my issues of mistrust with men and left my pride stinging. So not worth my time.

  Mulling over my conversation with my mother had me tossing and turning in bed last night. Try as I might this last week, taking a break from Boone hadn’t been easy. Matters were, of course, made far worse by the fact that he was my immediate neighbor. We shared a wall, and as I stood in my kitchen every night, I wondered what he was doing.

  Before I left for Asheville, to help me stay distracted, I’d worked myself to the bone. I’d actually been relieved another waitress was on vacation because there were plenty of shifts for me to cover. Even Dani had given me the side-eye, pointing out that, while she appreciated me picking up the slack in the schedule, she knew I was doing it to avoid Boone. I’d ignored her, and she’d been too damn busy to do anything about it. Then, my reprieve came by way of my graduate classes. Between my work schedule and him being gone for a few days for an out of town training exercise with the first responder crew, I had five days to myself to run laps in my brain. I’d eventually come to the conclusion that avoidance wasn’t solving anything, and I missed Boone.

  The piercing sense of his absence echoed so much that I couldn’t bear to ignore it any longer. This morning, I couldn’t help but notice his truck wasn’t home. It was bothering me.

  I hoped I’d finally have a chance to talk to him later today. Shouldering through the doorway into Wake & Bake Café, I sighed as the warm, coffee-scented air surrounded me. With a glance around, I saw the other early morning customers sitting at tables reading and chatting. Even though it wasn’t even six a.m. yet, there was a short line at the counter.

  When I reached the front of the line, Nancy smiled. “What’ll it be, dear?”

  “Just black coffee. The strongest you’ve got.”

  Nancy nodded and turned to begin prepping my coffee. “You hear about Boone Reeves?”

  My heart jolted. “What about him?”

  “Oh, I thought you’d have known before anyone else since he’s your neighbor. He got hurt last night during a rescue. A boulder hit him right in the head. I guess he’s going to be all right, but last I heard he was at the hospital.”

  “What?”

  I felt as if I were buzzing all over, fear and anxiety churning in my stomach as I stared at Nancy. She lowered her hands as she handed over my cup of coffee. “Are you okay, hon? It sounds like he’ll be fine.”

  I shook my head. “I have to go. I’m sorry, I’ll pay for this later,” I called over my shoulder as I dashed out of the café.

  It was good I had the roads in Stolen Hearts Valley memorized because I drove like a crazy woman straight to the hospital through the foggy, misty morning. The sun was barely puncturing the clouds when I skidded to a jerking stop in the parking lot, my tires squealing a little on the damp pavement at the hospital.

  Slamming the car door behind me, I raced across the parking lot and through the doors. My purse got caught on the door handle, and I didn’t even bother to pick it up as I ran to the reception desk.

  The receptionist glanced up, all business when she smiled politely at me. “How can I help you?”

  “I need to know where Boone Reeves is,” I blurted out.

  “Are you family?”

  “No, but I have to see him.”

  She gave me a searching look before she clicked on the computer screen. “Ma’am, I can’t release any patient information without explicit consent.”

  “Is this yours?” A voice came from behind me.

  Harried, I glanced over my shoulder to see a handsome man holding my purse. “Oh yes, I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out. As he handed it over, my eyes scanned his nametag—Brent. “Brent, can you help me?”

  The woman called from over my shoulder from behind the desk. “Ma’am, he cannot release private patient information either. Please have a seat, and we’ll find out if you can be added to the approved visitor list. First, I need you to give me your name.”

  Brent cast a sympathetic look in my direction before turning toward her with a polite smile. I turned back to face Miss Protocol. “Fine. My name is Grace, Grace Lakes. I’m sure Boone will want to see me.”

  I didn’t actually know if that was the case. I just knew that I needed to know he was okay. Preferably right this second.

  Wh
en I turned back, Brent had vanished. “Dammit,” I muttered to myself.

  I couldn’t say why, but I sensed he was a softer touch than Miss Protocol here. I heard her tapping on the screen and then lifting her phone. She said nothing though, so I didn’t know what the hell was going on. She glanced up again, once again offering a bland, polite smile when she hung up. “I will definitely let you know as soon as I have an update. Please have a seat, ma’am.”

  “You don’t need to call me ma’am,” I snapped as I stomped away from her and sat down in one of the chairs in the waiting area across from her.

  I quickly pulled out my phone, swiping on the screen and seeing Boone’s last text when I tapped his name.

  Hey Grace, I know you’re pissed off. Please don’t shut me out like this. I miss you.

  I’d ignored that damn text for days and hadn’t even allowed myself to open it. Until now, all I’d seen in the preview was Hey Grace, I know you’re pissed.

  My throat tightened. Sure, I had trust issues, and I needed to figure them out, but I knew there was only one man I wanted to figure them out with. That man was Boone.

  If only because I wanted to make sure he saw it, I typed out a reply.

  Hey, I hope you’re ok. I’m waiting at the hospital, and Miss Protocol at the reception desk won’t even tell me where you are or if you’re ok. I miss you too, even if you’re a caveman sometimes. xoxo

  Slipping the phone back in my purse, I stood, too restless to sit down. Glancing around when I saw Miss Protocol was occupied, I strode quickly down the hallway, trying to remember where they had coffee. The last time I’d been here was years back when my father was sick. I let out a little sigh.

  Whether I remembered it consciously, or my unconscious took me there, I found the coffee. Moments later, I was sipping on the much needed, but not-so-great coffee. I didn’t even remember if I’d taken my coffee from Wake & Bake Café. My best guess was I’d left it in my car.