She begged off Brandon’s party and told him that she was going to call it a night. But she was too hyped to enjoy a tub and her bed, so after changing into her jeans, a sweater and her favorite heeled boots, she slipped out of the hotel.
It wasn’t sneaking out, she told herself as she tucked her chin into her scarf and flipped up the collar of her coat. She just wasn’t up for company. She needed a little time to decompress.
She ended up at an Italian restaurant about five blocks away where she whiled away a good ninety minutes drinking sparkling water and eating a to-die-for mushroom linguine. She was feeling no pain when she left the comfort of the family-run restaurant and headed back to her hotel.
The night was bright. Stars shone more brilliantly out here than in Vancouver, where they had to compete with city lights, and the moon was almost full, spilling out a cool wash of blue. But it was icy cold. The air was sharp when she breathed, and her exposed skin tingled. She tucked her hands into her coat pockets and picked up her pace.
Main Street, which had been bustling on her way to the restaurant, was empty now, the partiers indoors under the protection of the clubs and lounges where the music would be pumping and the martinis plentiful. Brandon was probably having a blast, but Ava was glad she’d skipped it. Now that her on-air adrenaline had run down, all she wanted was a soft pillow and a thick blanket.
She turned down the side street that she thought led to the hotel. She hadn’t paid attention to the street names on her walk here, but Rockdale was small, and Ava knew she was going in the right direction. If she’d chosen wrong, it wouldn’t take long to rectify her error.
It was a nice town, all the shops with their gingerbread molding and roofs dusted with snow, like the North Pole come to life. Not that she’d want to live here—too cold for her coastal blood—but it was a nice break from the norm. She’d just finished looking at a cheerful window display of local art, wondering if she might take a piece back home with her, when she stepped on a stretch of black ice.
She yelped as her heel started to skid, and flung out her hands in a weak attempt to steady herself, but it was too late. She took the brunt of the fall on her left wrist, an awful crunch echoing through the night. Immediately, a wave of pain so intense that she thought she might go blind swamped her. “Oh, my God,” she moaned. But there was no one around to hear her.
She managed to roll herself into a sitting position, blinking away the black edges of her vision and praying she wouldn’t pass out and end up here all night. She could freeze to death. Tunnel vision averted, she swallowed and forced herself to look at her wrist. Bile rose in the back of her throat. Even with only the limited moonlight, she could see its unnatural angle.
She needed medical attention. But when she tried to stand, her knees buckled and her vision blackened around the edges again, so she sank back onto the icy sidewalk, thinking that staying still for just a moment was probably a good idea.
Maybe for a couple of moments.
Wind whistled down the street. She could hear the thumping beats of nearby clubs and an occasional drunken hoot, so it wasn’t as if she was in Siberia, even though the cold seeping into her butt felt like it. But she didn’t see anyone.
As the shock started to wear off, the pain expanded, throbbing through her entire body. Everything hurt. Her side, her back, her wrist worst of all.
She tried to stand again, but the wooziness returned and she was afraid she might faint. A few long breaths later, she felt strong enough to dig out her BlackBerry, though even that little movement made her wrist feel as if it was going to explode, and punched in 911.
It rang four times before a recorded voice informed her that all lines were currently busy and asked her to wait for the next available operator. She hung up and called Brandon, hoping that his vodka party hadn’t started yet, but she only got his voice mail.
She left a message asking him to call her back immediately. It was a slim hope. Chances were he was already at the party and who knew when he’d listen to the message. Particularly if there were any Italian noblewomen in town.
Ava checked her wrist, noting that at least it didn’t have that weird angle anymore. Of course, that was because it was so swollen there were no angles.
She dialed 911 again. Got the same recorded message. Hung up again.
Now what? She couldn’t just sit here. Obviously, emergency personnel were overburdened by the flood of visitors to the area and unable to attend to her call, Brandon might never get her message, and she couldn’t make it back to the hotel without help.
Her stomach soured. There was only one option left. And she was just desperate enough to take it.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT TOOK JAKE LESS THAN a minute to shove aside his room-service meal and get down to the hotel lobby. Food and whatever game he could find on TV were no longer his primary concerns.
What the hell was Ava doing out wandering the streets alone? What had happened?
In what felt like the first turn of good luck he’d had in the past week, a string of cabs were sitting out front of the hotel, no doubt waiting for the fashionably late to decide that it was time to hit the first party of the evening. He hopped in the one at the head of the line and said, “I need to drive around the area.”
“Got a location?” the cabbie asked, looking at him in the rearview mirror as he started the engine.
If only. Ava hadn’t known exactly where she was. On a side street a few blocks from the hotel, she thought. But she wasn’t certain which direction. “Nearby,” Jake answered.
The cabbie frowned, clearly not thrilled by the lack of details. Jake didn’t blame him. He wasn’t too thrilled, either.
They pulled away from the curb, the click of the indicator filling the car. “You know,” the cabbie said conversationally as he took a left out of the hotel parking lot, “there are clubs for this kind of thing.”
Kind of thing? It took Jake a second to twig. “No, I’m looking for a friend.”
“Clubs for that, too,” the cabbie continued. “I know they do things differently in L.A. than here, and I’m not one to judge, but it might be safer to meet her or him indoors. You Californians don’t really understand how cold it gets here. Do you know last year I picked up a couple of girls wearing only skirts and bikini tops?”
“My friend slipped on some ice and fell,” Jake told him before the man could get into his lecture on frostbite and how getting it on your privates wasn’t a good time for anyone. “We’re picking her up and taking her to the hospital.”
At least Jake assumed that was the plan. Ava hadn’t said how badly she was hurt, but since she’d called for help, he figured it was a safe bet that she’d need a medical evaluation.
“The hospital?” A line appeared between the cabbie’s eyebrows. “This isn’t an ambulance.”
“I’ll pay extra.”
The line disappeared. “Just so long as she’s not bleeding.”
“She’s not,” he said, though he had no idea if that was the case. He hadn’t thought to ask.
They drove down a couple of empty streets with no sign of anyone before they turned a corner and hit pay dirt. “There.” Jake pointed as the vehicle’s headlights lit up Ava’s face. It was tight and drawn and her skin looked pasty even in the minimal light. Christ. She looked like hell.
Fear that had nothing to do with finding a replacement for the festival rolled through him. He shoved it back. Right now, she needed hi
s help. He could worry about everything else later.
He was out of the cab before it stopped rolling, eyes searching for signs of injury. There was no blood, but she was cradling her left arm against her chest. And when she tried to smile at him, it was more like a grimace.
“Jake. You came.”
Of course he’d come. Did she think he’d leave her hurt on the street in a strange town? He didn’t say any of that, though. She was probably shocky and not aware of what she was saying. He crouched down beside her, eyes on her arm. “What happened?”
“It’s my wrist.”
As he bent closer, a gust of wind whipped past them. Though Jake barely noticed the biting chill, he saw Ava shiver and then turn an ugly shade of green as pain washed over her face.
She pulled up the sleeve of her coat enough for him to see that the joint was already swollen and a blossom of dark bruises was rising on her pale skin. Where it wasn’t discolored, the skin appeared tight and sore. In his nonmedical opinion, things did not look good. “Anywhere else?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral.
Ava shook her head. “I don’t think so. But it feels like I’m going to faint when I try to get up on my own.”
“I’ll help you stand,” he said. He wanted to carry her over to the cab, but was afraid she might fight him and end up with a more serious injury. It looked bad enough as it was.
He was careful not to touch her arm, but she brushed against him accidentally as she tried to get her feet beneath her. The small touch made her gasp and then exhale sharply through her teeth.
She was clearly hurting. And he was clearly a sick and twisted man because damned if that touch didn’t send a jolt of awareness through him. He ignored it and helped her find her balance so that she wouldn’t have another date with the concrete. “I think we should go to the hospital.”
She nodded and allowed him to lead her toward the cab. Her shoes clicked across the sidewalk as they moved. High-heeled boots that stopped at her knees and clung to the curve of her calf. Black. Leather. Sexy.
“Shouldn’t be wearing those boots,” he said. Not that he had anything personal against the boots. In fact, he liked the boots a lot.
She glared at him. “There is nothing wrong with my boots. These boots are—” She sucked in a breath when they stepped off the curb.
“You can take that up with the doctor,” Jake said and helped her into the cab. She continued to glare at him, but kept her lips clamped shut. He prayed the backseat didn’t turn into a splash zone, as he was pretty sure Mr. No Blood in the Cab also had a no-puking policy.
“You okay, lady?” the cabbie asked as Jake closed the door behind them.
“Fine,” she said.
“Not fine,” Jake corrected, looking at her swollen wrist again. “Where’s the nearest hospital?”
The cabbie glanced in his rearview mirror. “She’s not bleeding, is she?”
“No blood,” Jake said, pulling some money out of his pocket and waving it to convince the cabbie that this wasn’t the time for a discussion. “Nearest hospital.”
He didn’t know whether it was the money or the worry that any delay might turn his cab into a biohazard, but the cabbie shoved the car into gear and sped off as if he was in the Indy 500. No one said a word during the five-minute ride.
A sense of relief began to creep in when he spotted the blinding-white lights of Emergency. They were here. Everything was going to be fine.
He came around to open the door for her, but she only got as far as swinging her legs out of the cab before she stopped, face contorted again.
“You going to make it?” Jake asked, sliding a hand around her back to help her up.
“Just give me a second and I’ll be okay.” But her gritted teeth and pale complexion said otherwise.
The cabbie stuck his head over the seat. “You sure she’s not bleeding back there? Because I have to charge you for that. Costs a lot to get the upholstery professionally cleaned and I can’t pick up any other fares if it’s not clean.”
“She’s not bleeding,” Jake said, though if the guy didn’t quit asking, he might end up with a bloody nose.
Ava still hadn’t moved. Jake reached an arm around her, feeling how delicate she was. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. “Just give me another second.”
He recognized that look on her face. It was one he’d seen at many college beer bashes and generally preceded a lot of hair holding. “Brace your arm against your chest so it doesn’t move,” he told her, and slid his other arm under her knees. “I’m going to lift you.”
He figured it was a testament to how bad she was feeling that she only put up token resistance before resting her head against his shoulder and letting him haul her out. She sucked in a few deep breaths. “I just need some air.”
The tires of the cab squealed off, the driver obviously grateful to get away with a backseat that didn’t require a bottle of disinfectant, as Jake turned to the front of the building. Ava was still green, so he stopped short of the sliding doors, letting her suck in a few more breaths.
“Better?”
She nodded. “You can put me down now.”
“No.” He stepped through the doors and into the waiting room. There were about a dozen chairs, only a couple of them filled, and those people didn’t look too badly off. Probably friends and family members waiting for loved ones. He got Ava settled and then strode over to the large white desk and the nurse on duty.
It took less than five minutes before another nurse, a woman whose tidy gray curls and tightly laced runners indicated that she didn’t put up with any nonsense, arrived pushing a wheelchair. She informed Ava that they weren’t going anywhere until she sat in it, and if Ava refused she wouldn’t be permitted to see the doctor. Jake hid his smile when he saw the fire light up in Ava’s eyes.
“This is ridiculous. I’m perfectly capable of walking to the exam room.” The sitting had done her some good. Besides the fact that she was obviously well enough to argue, the sickly cast to her skin had receded.
The nurse shook her head and pointed at the wheelchair. “No chair, no exam. Standard procedure.”
“But—”
The nurse pointed at the chair.
“Fine,” Ava grumbled. “But for the record, this is a waste of time and resources.” She let Jake help her up and into the wheelchair.
“How long will this take?” Jake asked the nurse. Now that he was sure Ava was in good hands, his stomach was reminding him that he’d never gotten a chance to eat. Didn’t most hospitals have a twenty-four-hour cafeteria?
“As soon as a doctor is available.”
He looked at Ava. “I’ll check back in twenty minutes, okay?”
“You’re not coming with me?” Ava stared back at him, wide-eyed.
Oh, hell. He was a sucker for those big blue eyes. Especially when she was looking at him as if he was her lifeline instead of as if she wanted to kill him. “I...” He looked from Ava to the nurse. “Is that allowed?”
The nurse shrugged. “If she wants you there, the doctor won’t have a problem with it.”
He felt Ava’s good hand clamp over his as she turned to face the nurse. “I’d like him to come along.”
Jake guessed that meant he was coming along.
They passed through a set of swinging doors and into the treatment area. The bitter scent of medicine filled his nose. A row of beds lined one wall. Some of the curtains were pulled closed, t
he shadow of bodies visible through the thin material, while others sat open. But the nurse led them beyond the beds to a door marked Exam Room A. The nurse wheeled Ava inside and handed Jake a flat-bottomed pan. “In case she feels sick.”
“I’m not going to be sick,” Ava said.
The nurse merely nodded, probably having seen this same situation a hundred times already this week, and reached for the door. “The doctor will be with you shortly.” Then she closed the door behind her.
Jake looked at the pan and then at Ava. “You sure you don’t need this?”
“No.” Her jaw was clenched again.
He put the pan on a table near her good arm and took a step back. Just in case she didn’t have a strong hold on her gag reflex.
She exhaled slowly and more of her color seemed to return, loosening the knot of concern in his stomach. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“No problem.” Jake glanced around the small room. Though tiny, the space was packed. Along one wall was a short counter with a sink and a stack of cupboards above it, no doubt stuffed with gauze and gloves and whatever else the medical staff might need. The examination table filled another wall, and a stool with rolling wheels sat in a corner. Really, with the addition of the wheelchair, there was barely enough room for Ava in here, let alone him.
She had lowered her wrist to her lap. Under the indoor lights, Jake had a better view of her injury. It looked worse than he’d thought.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like Godzilla just stomped my arm.” She glanced at it and he recognized the worry in the lines edging her mouth. “Do you think it’s broken?”
“Possibly.” He was positive that it was. It looked worse than the time Dave Newton had jumped off the swings during recess and shattered his elbow. Dave had sported a full arm cast for weeks and hadn’t been able to participate in gym for the rest of the year. But telling her that would only scare her.
That Weekend... Page 6
