His eyes narrowed. His peripheral vision tunneled. The smooth water and pewter sky made it easier to focus. All he had to do was make sure he kept the shoreline parallel with the boat. He’d spent hours out here over the years and that time stood him in good stead. He reached the southern portion of the lake in record time. No way they could have made it that fast in a car. No way.
He rounded a peninsula, blew past the nuclear plant powered by the Cowans Ford Dam and spotted his home on the eastern edge of the lake less than five minutes later.
“Isn’t your car back at the camp?” she asked when he slowed down.
“I have other cars.”
It took them far too long to tie the boat off—at least to Todd’s mind—the two of them making a dash toward his garage at such a rate of speed he could hear the dock rocking in their wake. Fortunately, he had a house key on his key ring or else he didn’t know what they’d have done. Smashed a window maybe. That would have worked, he thought, letting them in a second later. He was in the mood to break something.
They made it to the garage in record time, Indi hardly sparing a glance at the cherry-red Mustang Cobra parked in his garage.
“How far to the hospital?” she asked, sliding into the black leather seat next to him.
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. Depends on traffic.”
He made it in a little over ten. Todd had no doubt there was an APB out on him by the time he arrived. He didn’t care. All he cared about was finding Benjamin in the multistory hospital.
That turned out to be harder than anticipated. They were told to go to the Emergency Room. Only when they arrived there, they were told Benjamin had been moved. A frustrated phone call later and Linda informed them that Benjamin was in the pediatric ward’s ICU. She met them at the elevator.
“How is he?” Indi asked immediately.
Linda, her face as pale as bone china, shook her head. “Not good,” she said softly, her eyes rimmed with unshed tears. “They’ve been giving him blood. Pumping him full of coagulants. Doing their best to get the bleeding to stop.”
Todd turned away.
“Can we see him?”
“They’re bandaging him up right now. The spot where they inserted the IV, it keeps bleeding and bleeding…”
He hadn’t realized he’d shut his eyes until he heard Indi’s gentle shushing sounds and the soft cries of Linda’s sobs. When he opened his eyes, the roomed seemed to tilt. Todd, a man who’d wrecked in cars at over 180 miles per hour and walked away, suddenly felt like passing out. He had to use the wall next to the elevator bank for support.
“Is Art here?” Indi asked.
When he turned around it was to see Linda nod her head, Indi’s hands on Linda’s upper arms. “He’s in with Benjamin.”
“We’ll just wait until it’s a good time for us to go in,” Indi said.
How did she do it? Todd wondered. How did she keep it so together?
“Indi,” Linda said, wiping at her eyes. “When you go in to see him, don’t let him see…” She took a deep, shuddery breath. “Don’t let him see your concern. I thought he was…” She took another breath. “I thought he was ready for this. He’s been so brave. But, Indi, suddenly he’s very scared.”
And Todd had to turn away again because the pain in Linda’s eyes, the agony he heard in that one word—scared—was too much for him to bear.
“I need some fresh air,” he said, jabbing at the elevator button as if the more he pushed it, the faster it would come and take him away.
Indi was too busy soothing Linda to give him much of a response. Go on, she silently mouthed.
Yeah, he’d do that because if he didn’t, he might just throw up. Unlike Indi. She looked as serene as a Madonna.
Todd realized in that instant that he’d never be half good at this. God help him, he didn’t want to be good at this at all.
BLACK FLAG
CHAPTER TWENTY
THEY ENDED UP having to wait hours before they were allowed to see Benjamin. Indi spent the morning canceling their appointments. The team from Miracles offered to come to the hospital for moral support, but Indi could tell Todd was in no shape to shake hands. That only became more obvious when they learned that Benjamin had been taken in for a full-body scan. The resulting diagnosis looked grim. Tiny tumors were now in Benjamin’s liver.
“So that’s it then?” Todd asked. “This is the beginning of the end.”
Indi had to swallow before answering. “Unless a miracle happens.”
She’d known he wouldn’t take the news well. Ever since they’d arrived he’d looked about ready to pass out. For a man with olive skin, he had next to no color.
“Have we done everything we can do?” he asked.
Indi bit her lip for a second, then said, “We can pray.”
They did that, too. But no amount of begging could stave off Benjamin’s worsening condition. Indi knew from experience that he had less than a month to live, more than likely less than that.
“You can go in and see him now,” one of the pediatric nurses said.
They both looked up from their position on one of two plush couches. The waiting room was typical of hospitals, Indi thought. Low lighting, natural beige carpet, box of tissues on the corner table out of the way for those people who suffered emotional breakdowns.
“Indi.”
She found herself having to crane her neck back because Todd had stood up while she’d been taking stock of their surroundings.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, smoothing back her hair. It’d come loose from the knot she’d tied it in. Maybe she should go to the bathroom and fix it before…
“Indi.”
She jerked up. What the heck was wrong with her? She felt odd. Almost anxious. But that wasn’t possible. She always held it together when visiting patients and their families. It was one of the things she was good at—keeping her cool. Staving off emotions. Being the shoulder to cry on.
“Let’s go,” she said as if he’d been the one holding things up, not her. She walked away before he could see that her hands shook.
It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like it. Square, fluorescent fixtures lit the way, but Indi’s vision seemed to darken around the edges the closer they got to Benjamin’s room. A turn to the left here, another corridor, and all too soon the nurse said, “Go on in,” in a soft voice.
“Knock-knock,” Indi said, her standard greeting when entering a room.
This time, her voice came out as nothing more than a scratch.
“Come in,” Linda said softly.
Indi looked toward the bed, only to immediately look away. She couldn’t. Oh, Lord…she thought for a moment she couldn’t breathe.
“Todd,” a little voice said over the sound of the automatic blood-pressure machine. “You came.” The words barely audible.
“Been here all day, buddy,” Todd said, using the hand sanitizer without being told. Trouble was, Benjamin didn’t have a free hand to clasp. Both hands were bandaged. One had an IV in it and one was resting atop a light blue blanket, bandaged from Lex’s scratch. The ball cap he always seemed to wear had been removed, too, the hairless scalp a brazen reminder of what the child had been through.
Indi could see the horror on Todd’s face, as well as the question he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t ask because Benjamin would hear.
How had he regressed so quickly?
“All day?” Benjamin said, looking around the room.
Art, Benjamin’s dad, stood silently in a corner. Indi realized he and Todd had never met.
“Todd,” she said, having to clear her throat before she spoke. “Have you met Benjamin’s dad?”
“Ah, no,” he said softly, his own voice sounding hoarse. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Koch.”
“Heard a lot about you,” the tall man said, his dark hair and eyes making him look like he could be Todd’s brother.
“And I’ve heard a lot about you,” Todd echoed, his eyes shifting back to the bed. She
saw him glance at Benjamin’s arm, the one with the bandage on it, then up at the IV. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought he paled.
“Sorry…had…to leave,” Benjamin said.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Todd said. “You’ll be back.”
“No,” Benjamin said, his eyes shooting to his mother’s. “I don’t think so.”
Todd seemed to sense that the time for half-truths was over. He looked away without saying a word.
Indi felt her stomach begin to burn. The shaking in her hands seemed to worsen. She crossed her arms to hide it from the room’s occupants.
“Sleepy,” Benjamin said.
“You look tired, buddy,” Todd said. “Maybe we should come back tomorrow.”
“’Morrow’s Thursday.”
“I know,” Todd said. “And I can be here all day if you want.”
“No, ya can’t.”
“Actually, I can,” Todd said. “I had Jen cancel all my plans.”
“Practice,” Benjamin said.
“Someone else can do that for me.”
Benjamin shook his head. Indi knew what the effort must have cost him. She saw the boy grit his teeth, saw him try to sit up a bit. “Can’t do that,” he said.
“Benj,” Todd said. “It’s no big deal if someone else practices my car. In fact, they’re bringing some new guy in. An open-wheel star—Brandon something or other—to do it for me. It’s totally cool.”
“No,” Benjamin said, sounding as firm as a desperately ill child could sound. “You have to.”
“Benjamin—”
“Maybe we could discuss this later,” Indi said. She’d caught Linda and Art exchanging concerned glances.
“Todd, please,” a little voice said. “Don’t let someone else…” He blinked a few times, seemed to have to struggle to stay awake.
“Morphine,” Linda said. “His spleen is swollen and it’s causing him some pain.”
Indi should have known. From here on out the child would be injected with a mix of painkillers and nausea medicine that would knock him for a loop.
The pain in her stomach worsened. She wondered if she were coming down with something. That would explain the shaking hands, too.
“Don’t let someone else,” Benjamin tried again, his eyes opening wide for a moment in a vain attempt to stay alert. “You drive,” he managed to get out.
“But, buddy. If I do that, I’ll miss out on spending time with you.”
Benjamin’s glassy eyes hardened. “Don’t care.” His lids fluttered for a second. “Championship,” he said. “Important…you…win.”
“Not to me,” Todd said, moving closer to Benjamin’s bedside. He reached out and stroked Benjamin’s forehead. “Not to me,” he said softly.
Benjamin looked as if he dozed off for a moment. All at once his little body jerked. Indi saw Linda flinch then start to move toward him. But it was nothing more than the child forcing himself awake, his eyes immediately moving to Todd’s.
“Is to me,” Benjamin said softly. “It is to me.”
And the words were so clear, they had such a ring of truth to them, Indi knew Todd couldn’t help but be moved.
“Is it really?” he asked.
All Benjamin could manage was a nod before his eyes closed again.
“Then it is to me, too,” Todd whispered.
“YOU DON’T HAVE TO practice your car tomorrow if you don’t want to,” Indi told him later on. They were in the patient waiting room again, Todd standing, Indi sitting. “He’s so full of medication he’ll never know the difference.”
Todd turned toward her. Behind him the Charlotte skyline could be seen through tinted glass. Todd stood in a patch of sunlight that surrounded his feet and crept up his legs. It was still early afternoon, but it felt as if they’d been there for hours.
“Really, Todd,” she said, getting up and placing a hand against his arm. She felt better now that they were out of Benjamin’s room. Funny. She hadn’t been that close to an anxiety attack in ages. She really must be coming down with something.
“How much longer does he have?” Todd asked, his mouth barely moving because he fought so hard to contain his emotions.
“I don’t know,” she said, although she suspected she knew the answer. “These things are hard to predict.”
“Don’t give me that crap,” Todd said. “You’ve been through this hundreds of times before. Now give me the honest truth. How much time?”
Her own temper immediately flared to life at the harshness of his words. For a second there she felt as if she spoke to the Todd of old. But then she reminded herself that this was a first for him. He’d never lost anybody close to him. “Two weeks,” she said softly. “Three weeks tops.”
“Damn.”
“He’ll be so out of it in another week or two, you could drive a golf cart around the track and he probably wouldn’t notice.”
“Then I’ll have to win this weekend so he can watch me do that.”
“Todd, he really won’t know what day it is. The morphine, it’ll knock him for a loop, especially at the dosage he’s on.”
“I’ll know,” Todd said.
“Wouldn’t you like to spend time with him? Quality time? Next week his condition will worsen. He’ll more than likely slip in and out of consciousness.”
“Damn,” he said again, louder. “I don’t know how you do this, how you can sound so…detached.”
“I’m just trying to tell it like it is.”
“And I’m telling you I’m racing this weekend because no matter what you think you know, that child will know if I’m not in my car this weekend. He’s a race fan. As sick as he is, as doped up as he is, deep inside he’s still my number-one fan.”
She heard his voice crack and reached out to console him, but he turned away before she could touch him.
“Todd,” she said softly, finding it hard to believe that just last night he’d been touching her tenderly, holding her, comforting her. “Please—”
“No,” he said, spinning back around to face her. His eyes had a sheen of wetness to them, but she noticed he didn’t let the tears fall. “I’m not going to listen to your clinical reasons as to why I should park my car for the weekend.”
“I wasn’t trying to be clinical. I’m just saying you might want to spend some time with Benjamin while he’s still lucid. When he passes—”
“No,” Todd yelled in horror, and Indi flinched at the near animalistic sound of that cry. “He’s not going to die. Not yet. Not ever.”
She debated what to say, but in the end truth won out. “Todd, be realistic.”
He took a step toward her. “You want realistic,” he said. “I’ll show you realistic. I’ll show you that the will to survive can sometimes hinge on something as stupid as a car race. And that the inner spirit can heal a soul just as effectively as medicine.”
“Not in this case.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked. “Just watch what happens when I win this weekend. Hell, when I win all six of the next races—”
“Todd, please,” she said, trying to calm him down. “That’s impossible. We need to be realistic—”
“That is realistic, damn it. I’m going to kick ass over the next few weekends. Not because I care about the championship, but because of what it will do for Benjamin.”
“It won’t do anything.”
His face flushed. It seemed impossible to believe this was the same man who’d held her so tenderly. “You watch.”
“Todd, please,” she tried again.
But he was already gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
HE DROVE LIKE A MANIAC all the way home. He didn’t care that he’d left Indi behind. He didn’t care that he was more than likely ruining what precious little chance they had at a relationship by yelling the way he had. He didn’t care about anything other than proving Indi wrong. Proving them all wrong.
Benjamin would not die.
And the first step toward provin
g that was to win Saturday’s race.
He put a call into Jen, told her to get a hold of the camp and fill them in. He hated to bail out on them, but he was in no mood to play happy in front of a bunch of kids. Next he called Linda from his cell phone. The last thing he wanted was for Benjamin to think he’d abandoned him, but Todd refused to visit him while Indi was around. Negativity was a deal breaker. He refused to put up with it.
If Linda seemed surprised by Todd’s wishes to visit her son when Indi wasn’t around, she didn’t let him hear it.
The last thing he did was put a call into one of the specialists he’d flown out to visit Benjamin. The man thought Benjamin might be a perfect candidate for a clinical trial currently underway but that they wouldn’t know for certain until his DNA was tested. Apparently, the medication was the next line of defense for cancer treatment wherein they didn’t fight the actual disease, but they treated the genetic abnormality that caused the leukemia. Todd didn’t pretend to understand how it all worked; he just knew Benjamin needed to be in on the doctor’s study.
Pronto.
He called him first thing upon arriving home, the day having turned into one of those stunning fall days that made a person think nothing could be wrong with the world. How far from the truth that was.
“I’m sorry, he’s in a meeting,” a woman said when Todd explained who he was.
“Tell him Todd Peters called, and that I need to know if that little boy he tested will work for the clinical trial he’s overseeing.”
“Got it,” the woman said, the two words sounding uppity even to Todd. She hung up in his ear.
“Damn,” he muttered, staring at the phone.
He turned away, wrenched open the door to his back patio and flung himself against the rail that separated the concrete flagstones from his yard.
His boat stood where he and Indi had left it what seemed like a lifetime ago. He’d have to put the rubber bumpers out sooner or later. They had been in such a hurry this morning he’d skipped it.
“Todd.”
Total Control Page 17
