“I have to go make a call. And a plane reservation back to Maine.”
“Yeah you do.” Trace embraces me and plants a kiss on my cheek.
“Okay. That’ll be enough of that,” Dak laughs and pulls us apart. “Go get your own lady back.” He hooks my head in a lock and this time the fucker gives me a noogie, but I don’t elbow him in the gut because I owe him big. My bro’s wisdom may have just saved me from losing the woman of my dreams.
***
I head out to my rented Rubicon, parked in Dak’s driveway. I left my phone plugged into the charger. When I pull up the screen I see I have a missed voice message from Nikki from last night. Shit. She probably thinks I’m ignoring her. I push play on the message screen and when I hear Nik’s sweet voice plead with me to wait for her and then tell me she loves me, I get a stab of pain in my heart. I don’t know how I’m going to wait five hours to get back to her, but when I do I’m going to drop to my knees and beg her for forgiveness.
I push Nikki’s number to return the call. After several rings a woman answers. For a second I think I called the wrong number, but when I pull the phone away from my ear and the screen lights up, Nikki’s number is displayed across it.
“Hello? Is Nikki there?”
“I’m sorry, Dalt. Nikki can’t come to the phone right now.” The woman’s voice on the other end of the line is quiet. I don’t recognize it and can barely hear what she’s saying. “This is Rose. She’s—”
“Oh, Mrs. Dixon. Rose. Please. I know Nikki probably doesn’t want to speak to me. I shouldn’t have left. It was a stupid kneejerk reaction to finding out about Chloe. But please, I need to speak to her. I want to tell her how sorry I am. I—”
“Nikki’s been in an accident. She’s…she’s in a coma.”
I don’t know if the call disconnects before or after I drop my phone. I can’t have heard her right. I try to call back several times on my way to the airport but Nikki’s phone keeps going straight to voicemail and I don’t have any other number to contact her mom.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I slam the steering wheel as I drive about a hundred miles an hour to the airport. The next few hours are the longest hours of my life.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Dalt
I drive straight to the farm from the airport, praying someone will be there to tell me where Nikki is and what the hell is going on. It’s nine o’clock by the time I get there and already dark. I can see lights on in some of the downstairs windows of the farmhouse. They’re home. Maybe I misunderstood what Rose said on the phone.
Please God. Let it be a misunderstanding.
After I pound on the door like a wild man, Matt answers. He’s clearly distraught. It’s unnerving to see a guy his size with a swollen face and red eyes. His hair is disheveled and his face is covered with unshaven scruff. It’s like seeing a cement wall crumble right before my eyes.
“You. What do you want?” he spits the question at me and swipes his palm across his face.
“I…I’m looking for Nikki. Is she here?”
“No.” He starts to close the door in my face but I slam my hand onto the peeling paint to stop him.
“Is she…is she okay?” I want to scream ‘please stop wasting time. I have to get to her.’ But I’m afraid if I don’t remain calm, he won’t give me any information.
“No. She’s not okay. She’s at the hospital. She flipped the truck chasing down your sorry ass. She’s unconscious. Her mom is with her. I have Chloe. Not that you give a rat’s ass.”
Thank God. Chloe is okay.
“Hospital. What hospital?”
“What do you care, pretty boy? Leave her the fuck alone. Haven’t you hurt her enough?” Jesus Christ. This guy is bigger than me and might crush me but if I have to I’m going to beat the information out of him to get to Nikki.
“No. I mean, yes. Please. I know you must hate me right now and I don’t blame you. I hate myself, but I have to go to her. Please. She needs me. I know she would want me there. Please.”
Does he want me to beg? If I have to get down on my knees and grovel, I will.
He doesn’t say a word.
“Just tell me where the fuck she is!” I swear I see fire flash in his eyes when I yell. “Please, sir,” I lower my voice. “I’m a big, dumb jackass and all the rotten things you’re thinking about me are probably true, but I’m in love with Nikki and I think she loves me. I have to be with her.”
He rubs a hand down the back of his neck. “She’s at Maine Coast Memorial.” He relents and puffs out with a shrug. “They wanted to Medevac her but it would have taken longer to get the chopper here than if I had the first responder medics from the fire station get her there.”
Christ. Medevac. It’s bad.
“Thank you.” I start to leave but hesitate for a second. “And thank you for taking such good care of Chloe.” I take the porch steps two at a time to get to my car.
“Hey, pretty boy!” Matt yells as I open my car door. “If Nikki pulls through this and you ever hurt her again, you’re going to need your own bed in the hospital. You got it?”
I nod because I know he just asked me a question, but I don’t comprehend one word he says after, ‘if she pulls through this.’
***
The woman at the receptionist desk glances up at me from over the top of her glasses.
“Sorry. Visiting hours are over. They’re from nine to seven.” She continues tapping at her keyboard.
“They brought a young woman here earlier. She was in a car accident. Nikki Dixon. I have to see her.” I sputter out into between gasps of much needed air after sprinting from the parking garage up four flights because the elevator was taking too long.
“I’m sorry. Visiting hours are—”
I stop myself from jumping over the top of the counter to push her out of the way to check the computer myself. Time to use the honey instead of the vinegar approach.
“I’m sorry to be such a pest…uh…” I take a quick glance at her nametag, “Grace, but I’ve travelled about nine hours and three-thousand miles to get here to see my fiancé. I hopped right on a plane the second I heard about her accident. I have to see her. We never go to bed without saying goodnight and giving each other a kiss.”
I lean over the counter to give her a good view of the ridiculous puppy eyes I’m throwing her way. “Even if we’re on different sides of the country we make sure to FaceTime and uh…do whatever we need to do to be sure we take care of each other before we go to sleep. You know what I mean?” I run my tongue over my lips in the flirtatious way that drives the ladies crazy. Grace’s gaze drops to my mouth and she takes off her glasses and starts using them to fan herself. They can’t be giving her much of a breeze.
I know. I’m an asshole. But since it’s become my MO these days I may as well use it to my advantage. It’s fucked up I have to be doing this crap at a time like this but I am not waiting until tomorrow morning to see Nikki.
“I just have to see her.” I suck in my bottom lip and I swear to God Grace licks her lips and sighs. Her fingers return to clicking away at the keyboard. She pulls her gaze away from mine for a quick glance down at her computer screen.
“Ms. Dixon is in the intensive care unit on the fifth floor,” she purrs. “They brought her…”
I don’t hear the rest of her sentence because I’m already on the elevator before she finishes. In the few minutes it takes to get to the fifth floor, I dial Garrett. He picks up on the first ring.
“Dalt, listen, man. I thought I was doing what was best for you, bro. I swear.”
I’m not interested in listening to his apologies or reasons right now. We can deal with all of it later. “Garrett, I need you to contact some of your connections from Mom’s hospital.” Technically it’s not my mom’s hospital but it is the hospital Garrett and I had built in her memory, the Cynthia Walker Memorial Hospital.
“I need you to find out who the best traumatic brain
injury doctor on the East Coast is and send the private jet to get him or her here.”
“Send him there? Where? Where are you?”
“I’m in Maine. I need you to do it ASAP.” The elevator dings and the doors take an eternity to open. Okay. It may have only been seconds but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to rip them open with my bare hands.
“What are you talking about? Are you okay? What the hell are you doing in Maine? Weren’t you just here this morning?”
His understandable confusion is grating on my nerves more than the elevator doors. I don’t have time for this.
I step from the elevator and search in both directions to determine which way to go. I get the answer when I see Rose pacing back in forth in front of the nurses’ station down the hall.
“What do you mean send a doctor to—”
“Garrett, I need you to shut the fuck up and listen to me. As I see it, you owe me big time for believing every fucked-up thing our father has ever told you and doing your best to ruin my life.” He doesn’t ask any more questions. I can almost hear him nodding.
“I need you to find the best TBI doctor and get his ass on our jet to Bangor International ASAP. I’ll have a chopper waiting to bring him to Maine Coast Memorial. Do you understand me?”
“Yes. I understand you,” he says in a slow and distinct tone, as if to assure me he’s not an idiot. Since yesterday, however, I question his genius level I.Q.
“Good.”
“But why do you need a TBI doc and how am I supposed to find out who that is and get him out there at this short notice? I’m not a magician for chrissakes.”
“I don’t fuckin’ care if you have to pull him off his yacht, or out of his woman, just get his ass out here. Nikki’s been in an accident. She’s unconscious. I don’t know if she’s…just get him out here.”
My throat tightens at the thought of using words like coma or survive. I have to hold it together. Nikki needs me to be strong.
“Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry, bro. I’ll get him out there. What else can I do?”
“Call me back with the info as soon as you’ve contacted him. I want to know when to expect him.”
“Got it. What else?”
“Have your lawyer contact the administrator of this hospital and get me clearance to stay with Nikki. I don’t want to deal with their bullshit rules. I don’t care if we have to build them a wing in Mom’s name. Give them whatever it takes because I am not leaving her side. Also, Dak is out there on break. Can you give him a call and let him know what happened? He’ll want to know.”
“Will do. Dalt, man, I’m so sorr—”
“I gotta go.”
The thought of my vibrant Nikki lying helpless in a hospital bed because of me flashes across my mind. I can’t deal with my dysfunctional family issues right now.
“Do this for me, Garrett. Please.” My voice cracks. “I can’t lose her.”
“It’s done. Hang in there. She needs you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dalt
It’s easy to see where Nikki gets her amazing piercing blue eyes. Her mom’s are the same stunning color. Although, even from twenty feet away, I can see Rose Dixon’s are red and swollen right now. As she watches me approaching, her tired weary eyes are doing the pulverizing laser-beam glare thing Nikki has thrown me more than once in the past few months. Needless to say, Rose isn’t happy to see me. Every bone in her small frame stiffens as I walk toward her.
Her stature is different than Nikki’s. Where Nik has the strong, solid frame of an athlete, her mom is petite and fragile in appearance, though from everything Nikki has told me about her, Rose is as resilient as they come in tough situations. Her delicate appearance but irrepressible character reminds me of the way my mom described the Verbena daisies she had in the flower garden she spent hours in before she died, delicate in appearance but resistant to harsh conditions.
Rose’s shoulders pull back and her stance widens like she’s about to block the fire breathing dragon from getting to her daughter.
I surge ahead. “How is she? Can I see her?”
I should be begging for her forgiveness for what I’ve done to Nikki, but there will be time for apologies later. Right now, being by Nikki’s side is the most important thing. When I get within five feet of Rose, I discover the entire wall across the hall from the nurses’ station is glass.
I’m unable to breathe while at the same time my heartbeat kicks up and pounds against my ribs when I see Nikki lying in a bed on the other side of the glass. Aside from the tubes and lines protruding from everywhere on her body and the full leg cast covering her right leg, she looks like Sleeping Beauty. Her platinum hair is spread out on the pillow propped under her head, her blue bangs are brushed to one side, and there’s not one scratch or mark on her beautiful face to indicate she was in a horrific accident.
I press my hand onto the cold glass trying to will Nikki to open her eyes.
“What have they told you? What’s her diagnosis?”
Rose walks up beside me and stares through the window at her broken daughter. Fresh tears follow trails down her already stained face.
“They’re not sure,” she whispers. “They won’t know anything for a day or two unless she wakes up before that. They can’t get an accurate evaluation because of the tracheal tube and residual effects of surgery.”
“Surgery? She had surgery?”
“Her leg. She had multiple fractures. I…I don’t know if…” Rose breaks down and begins sobbing.
I drape my arms around her in an awkward hug. She may push me away, but the only thing I have to offer in compensation for what I’ve done is a small amount of comfort and support. She doesn’t push me away, and instead collapses into me, sobbing uncontrollably.
“She’s going to be okay. Nikki’s strong. She’s a fighter. She’ll be okay.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, Rose or me. But her shoulders stop convulsing, her sobs quiet, and she steps back.
“Do you love her?” she asks. “Because if you do you should be by her side. But if you don’t, I don’t want you here to hurt her any more than you already have.”
“She’s my life and I’m not going anywhere,” I answer without hesitation.
Rose nods and pushes open the door to the intensive care unit, gesturing for me to go in. As she stands there holding the door for me, I note her exhausted appearance.
“Excuse me? Is there somewhere Mrs. Dixon could lie down for a few minutes to get some rest?” I ask the nurse sitting at the station desk.
“Yes. I have a bed down the hall we use for family members in these circumstances,” the nurse replies. “I suggested several times Mrs. Dixon should try to get some rest.” She comes from around the desk and puts her arm around Rose’s shoulder. “You can’t let yourself get run down and sick. Your daughter’s going to need your strength when she wakes up.”
The nurse’s encouragement works and Rose nods in agreement.
“I won’t leave Nikki’s side,” I tell her, then let her know about the specialist I have coming to evaluate Nikki.
She doesn’t ask any questions. Her exhausted mind and body are probably too drained to ask for any information. Still, the tension drops from her shoulders a bit and she breathes out, “Thank you,” and walks down the hall with the nurse.
When I’m about to enter Nikki’s room, my phone vibrates with an incoming text message.
Garrett: Dr. Daniel Hensley. Top in the field. He’s coming in from Johns Hopkins. I chartered a jet in Maryland for him. It’s faster than sending ours cross country. Four hours, tops. Hang in there.
Me: Thank you
***
Standing next to Nikki’s bed, I feather my fingers down her cheek. Her skin is soft and warm. I lean down and replace my fingers with my lips, brushing a kiss on her cheek and then one on her forehead. “I’m here, baby. Please open your eyes, sweetheart. Wake up for me, Nik. Chloe and I need you to stay with us.”
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I pull up a chair next to her bed and continue to plead with her for the next few hours to come back to me.
I’m not sure how much time has passed when I feel a hand on my shoulder jarring me awake.
“Dr. Hensley is here, Mr. Walker.”
I must have drifted off to sleep while whispering in Nikki’s ear. I’m slumped over in the chair, my head resting on her pillow. The first thing I see when I blink open my eyes is her beautiful profile. My nose is pressed against her face.
“Dr. Hensley is here, Mr. Walker,” the person shaking my shoulder repeats. I sit up. The stiffness in my back and neck sends a painful reminder not to fall asleep hunched over in a chair.
“What time is it?” I try to get my bearings.
Nikki. Accident. Hospital.
The terrifying realities come flooding back.
A gray-haired man in a tan button-down sweater vest and olive-green corduroy pants is standing over me next to Rose and a different nurse from the one at the desk last night.
“Not the best sleeping position for your spine, son.” The man, who I assume is Dr. Hensley, points out the obvious. “This young lady must be Ms. Dixon.” He leans in to take a closer look at Nikki. His appearance is more that of Mark Twain than Charles Mayo. If we weren’t in an intensive care unit I’d expect him to pull out his corn cob pipe.
I glance at Nikki. She’s in the exact same position she was last night. Her eyes are closed, her hands still strapped to the bed to keep her from pulling out any of her lines if she should move in a sudden spasm. The dim spark of optimism I held hoping she would be awake today fizzles.
“I’m Dalton Walker, and you must be Dr. Hensley.” I pop up from my chair-bed and extend a hand in greeting.
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