Tunnel-visioned, I sweep behind Marcy. With the lights on, I see how pale Kate is. How her lips are no longer pink. It’s a complete one-eighty from the flushed face I left her with. Like all of the blood has drained from her.
Pat yelps when I shove her out of my way. “Kate, I’m here. I’m here, Kate.” I fold her hand into mine.
“You need to step back, young man,” I hear her say. I ignore her because if she’d have only listened to me in the first place, then…
Her voice rises when she says my name. “Damian, you need to—”
“Pat,” Tammy cuts her off, shaking her head. Tammy’s all business, and I could fucking hug her for it. “Page Doctor Lowell.”
Pat shuts up, nods once, and hurries out of the room.
“Is it that bad?” Marcy asks, her arms wrapped around herself.
Tammy checks Kate’s IV before answering. “Her blood pressure’s dropped, and it’s straining her heart.” She sighs, her eyes teetering to me. “I’m sorry, but when Dr. Lowell arrives, you’ll need to wait outside.”
I open my mouth to object when Marcy says, “Of course. Whatever you need.” She’s on the verge of tears.
I rake my hand through my hair, frustrated. The last thing I want is to leave Kate here alone. But I feel myself nodding my agreement.
Slowly, I raise Kate’s fingers to my lips. “You’re in good hands, baby.”
I don’t care that Tammy heard me and is now staring at me. I let Kate’s hand slip from mine, and it takes everything I have to follow Marcy out.
As soon as we leave, I see my dad rushing toward us. He doesn’t look at me, not that I expect him to. Like me, his only concern is Kate.
I watch him enter Kate’s room, Pat right behind him. At the same time, I see Matt the security guard step off the elevator. Perfect fucking timing.
“I’ll go grab us some coffee,” I tell Marcy.
“Thank you, Damian,” she says, and walks down the hallway to the Commons.
I, on the other hand, saunter toward Matt. The man doesn’t look happy.
“I received a call from Patricia that you assaulted her. Damian—”
Assaulted? What the fuck?
I hold up a palm. “Now’s not a good time, man.”
Matt gives me a skeptical once-over and sniffs the air around me. “Have you been drinking?”
I wish.
“No. Kate needed help. It was an emergency. The shit with Pat, dude that was all a misunderstanding.” He doesn’t know who Kate is, and I doubt he cares.
Matt glares at me, and I don’t think he’s buying my story. I need to do something because I’m not getting kicked out of here. Not today.
“Where’s Patricia?” he asks.
“I told you. There was an emergency. She’s in there.” I point toward Kate’s closed door.
“Damian,” he starts, “you have a history here, and assault is a very serious accusation.”
“I’m not leaving. Not as long as Kate’s here in this hospital.”
Matt sighs as he considers his next move. I’m resilient, and he knows it. No one on earth could get away with the shit I’ve evaded here. My dad’s the best oncologist they have, and they don’t want to lose him. It’s the only reason I’m allowed inside.
“Tammy,” he says, pushing past me.
I swing around to see her exiting Kate’s room, her face solemn. What does it mean that she left? Her eyes bounce up to me for a split second before they fall on Matt.
I move in closer to hear them.
“—assaulted her,” Matt finishes.
Again, Tammy’s gaze flashes to me then back to the security guard. “It was a misunderstanding, Matt. We’ve all had a rough morning. I’ll talk to Pat. Thank you for your quick response in this matter, but I assure you, everything is fine.”
Mat hesitates. “Okay, then,” he says, before he turns to me. “Stay out of trouble, Damian.”
“Yes, sir,” I mutter as he stalks away. “Tammy—”
“You really care about Kate, don’t you?” she interrupts me.
All I can do is nod because I don’t think I’m strong enough to say it out loud. “Is she okay?”
“They’re still working on her. She’s a tough girl.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Hang in there, Damian,” Tammy says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Kate has a lot worth fighting for.”
~*~
Kate’s dad is with Marcy when I return to the Commons with our coffees. The Browdys sit at a small table, heads leaned in together.
“Thank you,” Marcy says as I hand her the Styrofoam cup.
Wordlessly, I slump onto the sofa on the other side of the room by myself. I want to be alone with my thoughts. It’s definitely not what Liam would do, but I’m done caring what he would do. Kate never wanted Liam. She didn’t even know him, so I can begin fresh. I don’t have his perfect-ass standard to live up to with her.
I drag a hand down my face, sliding my fingers over the stubble on my jaw. Six days ago, I was considering leaving Kate because I couldn’t handle her disease. Because I wasn’t strong enough.
Today, I’m still not strong enough, but thanks to Ellie, I realize that I don’t have to be. She didn’t love Liam because he was perfect. No, she loved him because he was genuine.
Kate doesn’t need me to be strong. She needs me to be there. To be me. The rest we can work out together.
Now all Kate has to do is beat the virus and wake the hell the up.
An hour passes, and beams of sunlight scatter through the blinds. No one has come in to give us an update on Kate’s condition. My coffee is long gone, and I cross my arms.
I’m cold. I’m hot. I’m scared.
I’m so fucking scared.
Finally, my dad appears in the doorway. His face is long, tired. He glances in my direction before he approaches Kate’s parents. I don’t follow him over. I just sit here, watching as he speaks quietly to the Browdys.
Marcy’s hand covers her mouth, tears slipping onto her cheeks. Mr. Browdy cradles her in his arms, and my heart drops into my stomach. Kate has to be okay.
The need to see her for myself overwhelms me. Quietly, I slip out of the Commons and head to Kate’s room. There’s one nurse at the nurses’ station, but she doesn’t look up when I walk past. The door to Kate’s room is shut, and I hesitate as I reach for the handle. I don’t know what I’ll find behind it, but I don’t want to dwell on the possibilities, either.
I push the fear away and open the door.
The soft hum of machines greets me, and for once, it’s a welcoming sound. But it’s not enough to back me off the edge. That won’t happen until I know she’ll be okay. Hell, until she says my name.
Whoever left the room last closed the curtain. I gather the material in my hand and slide it back. She’s lying there, hooked up like when I left her. I can’t see if she’s breathing. My eyes flick up to the monitor, and the first thing I notice is the steady heartbeat.
I hear myself exhale as relief floods through me like a damn breaking free.
She’s alive.
My gaze returns to her. The same body I woke up to this morning rests on top of the mattress, but it’s different. Stronger. More resilient.
This girl. This beautiful girl in front of me amazes me with everything she is.
Her skin’s not as pale as earlier. Her lips are pink again. I lean over her, my hands on either side of her head, smashing into her pillow. Closing my eyes, I hold my position over her, not touching her. I want to feel her warmth on my face, her breath on my mouth.
“It’s just us, Katie,” I whisper. “Give me something to let me know you can hear me.”
Closing my eyes, I wait. I don’t move or breathe. She offers nothing, and I open my eyes to take her in. I lower myself until my nose grazes hers. Then I repeat the words I told her a week ago in front of the fireplace. This time I understand what I’m saying.
This time it’s for real.
“Don’t leave me, Katie. Don’t leave me.”
~*~
Kate is under constant supervision. If my father wants a nurse watching over her, that must mean he’s worried. Dad’s even been in Kate’s room more than his typical once every twenty-four hours. The rest of the time, he’s in his office. What the fuck is up with that? Why isn’t he doing something to fix her?
I’m sick of waiting for him. He’s had enough time. I may not know much about medicine, but I’m pretty damn sure that jacking her up on all these drugs is a shock to her system. Doc of the Year has spoken with the Browdys numerous times, but now I want answers.
I round the corner to the hallway that leads to his office. The door is cracked open, so I have no doubt he’s in there. The thought pisses me off even more. He’s a fucking oncologist. His job is to heal his patients, not sit on his ass in his damn office.
I shove the door open without knocking. As predicted, he’s behind his desk, staring at his computer screen. He glances up and wipes his brow like he’s been expecting this confrontation. Placing both hands on his desk, I lean forward.
“What’s wrong with Kate? Why haven’t you woken her up?” I demand.
He’s got the calm doctor thing going on, which only fuels the fire in me. He removes his glasses like he has all the time in the goddamn world.
“Damian, you know I can’t—”
I pound my hands on the wood. “I’m not in the mood for your doctor-patient confidentiality bullshit. Kate’s obviously not out of the woods if you have a fucking nurse stationed in her room.”
“Son, the rules have already been bent for you. You’ve been told more than you should about her situation, and I haven’t said anything about you staying in her room all night,” he says.
“Gee, thank you, king of the universe.”
“But,” he continues, ignoring me, “I can’t discuss this with you, no matter how much you care about her.”
“This isn’t about me.”
His eyebrows perk up. “Isn’t it?”
I don’t hesitate. “No. It’s about Kate. All the drugs she’s on are destroying her body.” I have no right to question my dad’s medical expertise, but I’m confident in my stance. I have to know that Kate will be okay.
He nods, like he’s actually considering what I said. “I know what I’m doing, son.”
“So why the hell are you holed up in here?” I push.
“What do you want me to do, Damian? Stand over her bed? I’ve been here at the hospital twenty-four-seven since I admitted her. I’m keeping a close eye on her, despite what you think. She’s been my patient for seven years, and I want nothing more than to see her walk out of this hospital cancer-free.” He’s losing his cool some. Good.
“Then what are you doing to make that happen?” My voice dips low. I came for answers, and god damn it, I’m going to get them!
“Everything I can,” he says through gritted teeth. He’s trying to keep his composure, but he’s beginning to fray.
I shake my head, annoyed. “It’s not good enough. It’s been six days. Six days and she hasn’t even batted an eyelash!”
Now I’ve really gotten to him. He shoots out of his chair. “You need to let me do my job and stop questioning me. What is Kate to you, anyway? Because I’ll be damned if I allow you to use her like you use Ellie. Kate’s sick, Damian.”
I’m shaking now. How dare he insinuate that I’m using her? I pick up a paperweight and hurl it at a fake Monet painting behind me. The glass shatters, and I spin around to face my father again.
“Fuck you!” I spit out.
“I know Ellie’s father was admitted a few days ago. I also know that you met up with her.” He steps out from behind his desk. Close enough for me to throw a punch into his face.
His voice lowers, his eyes drilling into me. “Let me tell you something, son. You’d better figure things out, because when Kate wakes up, you have a choice to make. She merits every happiness, and if you can’t give her that, you need to walk away.”
When she wakes up?
I have no reply to the rest of what he said. I don’t want him to know that he’s right. I’ll end up fucking this up somehow.
I take a step toward him, glaring at him. He doesn’t budge. I’m still pissed, but I got the answer I came for. Kate will wake up.
When I speak, my tone mimics his. Low and menacing. He made his point, now I will make mine.
“You told me once that Kate was different. That her disease makes her different, and I want to tell you that you’re wrong. Yeah, Kate’s different, but it isn’t leukemia that makes her that way. She doesn’t let the cancer define her, and that’s what makes her so damn special.”
Day 7
Kate remained stable the rest of yesterday, and by the time Mr. Browdy left for the night, so had the nurse. Dad even made a couple extra appearances in Kate’s room after our fallout.
I have a hard time sleeping, and from the sound of sheets rubbing together in the other bed, so does Marcy. Even though the Doc said Kate was in the clear for now, it does nothing to ease my mind.
At three a.m. I stop trying to sleep. I scoop up Kate’s hand and hold it to my lips. The temperature of her skin has returned to normal, making slipping into bed with her difficult to resist. I don’t, though, because I don’t want to overheat her.
Quietly, I slide my chair up so that I’m closer to Kate’s head. Even though I assume Marcy’s awake, I speak softly to Kate anyway. I’m beyond caring who hears.
“We should go to Disney World,” I say, recalling the list of activities she wants to do. “My parents took Liam and me a couple of times when we were younger.” I snicker as a memory surfaces. “There’s this, uh, kids’ roller coaster that goes through a barn. It has Goofy and pals shape cut out as if they’d burst through the wall. I was six and Liam was nine, and he wanted to ride that thing so bad, but I took one look at it and freaked out. Mom said she’d go with me to the teacups again instead and Dad could ride with Liam on the evil roller coaster.”
I smile to myself, thinking of what my brother did next. Even as a kid, he was fucking perfect. “But Liam said no. He didn’t want to ride on anything if I couldn’t go with him. Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and told me he’d never leave me behind.” I pause as the image fades away. “We’ll ride that one first, Kate, with our hands high up in the air like it’s the scariest damn roller coaster there.” I puff out a laugh at the thought.
I kiss Kate’s hand and press it against my cheek. It’s soft, smooth, and I’d give anything for her to curl her fingers around mine. I never knew holding someone’s hand could be so intimate, so utterly incredible. But that’s how it is with her.
If only she’d open her eyes.
Behind me, I hear Marcy shuffle around, and the bed creaks as she gets up. She rounds the end of Kate’s bed and sits opposite me, taking Kate’s other hand. Her lips purse, worry lines creeping from the corners of her eyes. For the longest time she doesn’t say anything. She simply gazes at her daughter, like at any second Kate could slip away from us forever.
It’s then I realize that Marcy’s life has been made up of moments exactly like this one. Kate may be the one battling this disease, but the cancer has claimed other victims in its wake.
My father’s words rip through me. He was right. Kate does deserve to be happy.
And yet…
“Sweetheart,” Marcy murmurs, interrupting my thoughts, “you can wake up whenever you’re ready. We’re here for you, okay?”
I find myself staring at Marcy. At the tears glistening in her eyes. She’s wearing the same expression I’ve seen on my father’s face time and time again when he’s concerned over a patient and thinks no one is paying attention. Desperation.
Marcy’s eyes lift to meet mine, and she smiles at me. “It should be soon, Damian. Your father took her off the thiopental.”
I swallow. “He did?”
She nods, hopeful. “Yes, earlier this a
fternoon, Tammy came in and switched her medication.”
“This afternoon?” I repeat, thinking back.
“When you left to get coffee?”
That’s what I had told her when I went to confront my dad. He’d given the order before I spoke to him.
Holy shit.
~*~
I never did fall asleep. Marcy got in a few hours, though. Right now, she’s in the cafeteria eating lunch like I should be, but I can’t leave Kate here after what her mother told me last night. Kate could wake up any minute, and I want to be here when she does.
I want to stare into those beautiful brown eyes of hers and let her captivate me.
I shift in my seat, and as I do, my phone digs into my ass. Leaning forward, I pull it out to check for messages. My brain has been so preoccupied with Kate over the last two days that Ellie’s situation slipped my mind. I’d told her to call me, but I haven’t heard my phone go off.
I should check up on her.
I tap my fingers on the phone. None of the choices I come up with sound like good options at the moment. I can’t run down and see if she’s here, not with Kate on the verge of waking up. Calling her in front of Kate seems like an asshole move, and I’m trying not to be an asshole. Besides, neither of these fall into the category of choosing Kate and letting Ellie go, which is what I need to do.
Yet somehow, somehow, I have to fulfill my promise to Liam.
I make the decision to shoot her a text.
Hey. You doing okay?
Short. Sweet. No bullshit.
I lay my phone on the bed and wait for an answer. It never takes Ellie long to return a text.
Twenty minutes later, when Marcy arrives with a sandwich for me, I’m still waiting. And I don’t know what to think about it. Ellie’s a big girl and can handle herself, but that’s not what Liam would let her do. Especially not when she’s hurting like she is.
Fuck. Me.
I glance at Kate, then at the monitor. I find myself doing that often. Yesterday, I asked the nurse what the numbers meant and what was considered normal, so now I have a frame of reference. They all look good.
Eight Days (Love Always #1.5) Page 6
