I feel as if I could rip his head off his shoulders as he yells out, "This is all your fault, boy! If you'd stayed away, this woulda never happened! This is your fault!"
My fault? My fault.
He pulls against the younger Trooper and runs back at me, getting slammed down to the ground by the other officer. With his face pressed against the tile floor he yells, "If she hadn't fallen, your bastard of a son would be dead for sure. I was aiming for him." The Trooper pulls him to the door, basically carrying him out. "I was aiming for him!"
I’m flailing now, pushing and punching at my friends that are holding me. That fucking bastard just said he was aiming for my son; for my pregnant fiancée’s round stomach. What the fuck kind of crazy is that son of a bitch? I’m going to fucking kill him and I use one last burst of energy to try and get loose, but Timmons, French and Reno hold me tight.
There are people just standing here, staring at us as they struggle with me, but I don’t care. That fucker is going to get his, I’ll see to it.
I sag against the wall as Duke disappears through the automatic doors, the Troopers throwing him into the car just beyond the entrance. With my forehead against the cool painted brick, I let out the only sound that I can muster: a loud, ear shattering scream of a yell, my voice echoing and bouncing off the silent hospital around me. It makes my chest and throat hurt. I can feel Timmons’ and French's hands on my shoulders and arms as I slide down the wall, tears breaking the barrier I have tried so hard to keep up.
I'm a man. I'm a sailor. I'm a God damn SEAL. I'm not supposed to cry.
I'm human. At the end of the day, I'm just human. As I turn my back against the wall, Reno crouches down and places his hand on my shoulder, not saying anything, just giving me an understanding look and nodding his head as the tears stream down my cheek.
If they die, it's my fault. Bringing my knees up, I bury my face in my hands propped up by my elbows and let the bridge disintegrate. I can hear French and Timmons talking with Black, Reno's hand still on my shoulder squeezing ever so slightly, but I ignore it all. I'm drowning, without my Rhea, I'm just drowning. I waited so long to have her, and now look; she’s on the brink of being taken away from me all because of that crazy ass bastard.
"Mr. Payne?" My head pops up and I scrape at the tears on my face, seeing Doctor Young standing some twenty feet from my spot on the hallway floor. Scrambling to my feet, Reno helps me up and she moves closer to us, a sad look on her face as she looks me over.
"Doc, do you have news?" I nervously push my hand back through my hair. I can see my mom and Kendall standing at the doorway to the waiting room, their arms wrapped around one another.
"If you wanna come with me, you can see your son now." She smiles slightly; nodding back over her shoulder and my heart feels like it's going to jump out of my throat. I am frozen again, standing here with my eyes locked on the Doctor, my brain not be able to form any words. "Mr. Payne?" she asks, and I finally nod, following close behind her as she turns back.
"Can my mom come, too?” I ask as we get closer to the waiting room.
"Oh yes," the Doctor says cheerily, "your son is in the nursery. He's perfectly fine, so you can bring everyone if you'd like." She smiles at my mom, nodding her head for all of us to follow.
He's fine.
Those two little words just lifted part of this cloud around my heart and I can't get to the nursery fast enough, almost stepping on Dr. Young's feet more than once in my haste. I almost run into the back of her as she abruptly stops around a corner, and I have to put my hands on her shoulders. She's facing a large glass window, looking in on a room full of babies and as all my friends and mother gather around, Dr. Young taps on the glass.
"Baby Payne," she says, pointing at the nurse on the other side as she nods.
I feel as if there are a million little lightning bolts running over my skin as I watch the nurse move to a clear plastic bed, reaching down and picking up a bundle wrapped in blue. My hands go to the glass as she comes closer, holding the bundle up at an angle. I barely notice Dr. Young waving for the nurse to come out because I'm too focused. My mother's hands wrap around my forearm as the door opens and the nurse is before us, handing the bundle off to the doctor.
"Mr. Payne," she says, turning to me with a wide smile, "meet your son." The sight of him takes my breath away. I feel awkward, I feel like I don't belong. Her arms start to extend towards me and I'm nervous. He's so little. She smiles and nods, moving closer so that her bent arms bump almost into my chest. "Well, come on, dad." She smiles and I hear my friends chuckle around me.
My heart is thundering in my chest as I try to awkwardly maneuver my arms into the correct position as the doctor slides my son over. My son. My mother is right at my elbow, craning her head over and telling me softly, "Watch his head," and I nod as the doctor finishes depositing him in my arms.
With his head in the crux of my left elbow, I'm spellbound by this almost eight pound bundle before me. "Hi little guy," I whisper, tears finding my lashes and I’m amazed by his chubby little face. It makes my heart jump when his little arms stretch up by his face, a squeak making me shoot a look at the doctor, but she just laughs.
"He's perfectly okay," she says, stepping back and letting my friends gather a little closer. "He's seven pounds, ten ounces. His vitals are all strong. All he needs is a name." Meeting her eyes, I skirt a look over to my mom, but she's too absorbed with her grandbaby, cooing and placing little kisses on his forehead.
"Here Chad," Kendall reaches her hand out, a white envelope extended toward me. Taking the offered paper with my right hand while holding my son firm, I rip it open with my teeth, reaching it out to Reno so he can pull the paper out. Trading the now empty envelope for the note, I unfold the lined paper seeing Rhea's familiar handwriting on the page.
"Chad,
Well I guess today's the day, whatever day it might be. I've missed you so much, and I've probably already told you that a million times. I'm so glad you could be here for the birth of our son. So this is your job.
Pick his name. I'm trusting you, and I know you'll love either one.
Chadwick Rex Payne
-or-
Charles Randolph Payne
I know these choices will make you smile. It's all up to you. I love you.
XOXOX- Rhea"
My tears drip down to meet the paper, now crumpled in my hand. "Doc, tell me about Rhea." I look up, carefully handing my son off to my mother as the doctor motions for me to come to the side, away from the group.
"She should be in the ICU by now, but I'll go find out for sure." She looks me in the eyes, then over to the crowd of my friends fawning over my newborn son. "You should know that she technically died twice. Mr. Muncy saved her once, while in the helicopter, and they revived her another time on the table while trying to fix her femoral." I nod, turning my eyes on the floor, afraid to look anywhere else.
She died. Twice. The words keep rolling through my head.
"Alright then," she pats me on the arm, "I'll let you all have some time with your son and I'll go track down Rhea's doctor." She's around the corner and gone before I can answer. Looking up, I try to smile at my mom as she rocks my son back and forth, Kendall and Rosa both hovering over him.
Brad saved her. She was dead, and he saved her. He saved my son.
Walking up behind him, I put a hand on his shoulder, getting him to turn around. Before he can say anything, I wrap my arms around his, pulling him to my chest in a tight hug.
"You saved her," I say, and I can feel his hands pat me on the back, hugging me back. "Thank you, I'm not gonna be able to say that enough, but thank you."
"No need to thank me," he says, smiling as I release him with my hands on his shoulders. "I love Rhea like a sister, and I did what anyone who has my training would have done. I just wish..." he pauses, looking over to Garth and wraps his arm around his shoulder. "I just wish this whole God damned thing hadn't happened."
"Me too," I sa
y, getting back to my mother and taking my son once more.
I still can't get over that this is part of me. Part of Rhea. That now familiar pain from this tragedy tugs at my heart and I lower my face close to my son's forehead, kissing it lightly.
"Hey little guy, I'm your daddy. Your momma is sick, but she'll be with us soon. For now, I gotta name you." I look down at him; trying to see which name suits him best. He squirms and lets out a high pitched squeal before settling and opening his eyes. Blue-gray eyes just like Rhea's, edged with that storm cloud of Randy's eyes.
Looking up to everyone, I know which one I'm going to pick. "Everyone," I say, smiling over at my mom, "meet Charles Randolph Payne." My mother's fingers grip into my forearm and through her smile, a few tears fall down her cheek. They're happy tears and in turn, it makes me happy.
They all coo and giggle over little Charlie until the nurse takes him back and we all settle back into the same old waiting room. "He's perfect," my mom says, kissing my cheek and leaning her head on my shoulder. It is after six-thirty now and more than a few yawns run through the room.
"Chad," Dr. Young walks in with a forty-something man in scrubs beside her, his white coat floating to mid-calf. He is short and balding, his dark hair combed over and he looks at me through wire rimmed glasses, a clipboard under his arm. "Chad, this is Dr. Traversky; he's Rhea's attending physician." She nods toward the man and as he extends his hand, I shake it firmly, nodding my hello.
"Mr. Payne, I have some good news," he smiles and everyone stands, tension flowing through the room like water after a dam breaks. "Your fiancé is in the ICU and she's stable. We repaired her femoral, but she lost a lot of blood. We reduced the swelling on her brain and there shouldn't be any long term side effects, but that's not a certainty until she wakes up."
"When will that be?” I rush out, feeling like I'm jumping down the doctor's throat.
"Well, her body has been through a lot, so it'll wake up when it feels ready. It could be an hour from now, a day from now, two days from now. There is no way to tell. We'll just keep her comfortable, give her pain meds, and watch over her until she does wake, then we'll run some tests to see if there is any long term brain damage." He gives me a reassuring nod, taking the clipboard from his armpit. "I'm going to allow you to be with her, but no more than three at a time, and when my nurses tell you to leave, you leave, got it?" He gives me a pointed look, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes sir," I answer, feeling my mother's hand wrap into mine. I tug her to my side. "Can we see her now?" I almost whisper. I need to see her for myself. I need to hold her hand in mine, feeling her soft skin on mine.
"Follow me." He nods, leaving from the room as everyone follows behind us.
Silence and anticipation swallow me as I squeeze my mother's hand. We weave through the hallways, past the nursery wing where I turn my gaze, holding it for a split second before turning back to focus on the back of the doctor's head. Stopping our little parade before an automatic door labeled with an ICU sticker and number 238, the doctor looks directly at me.
"I would recommend taking a few minutes by yourself. Talk to her. Touch her hand. Don't be alarmed by the slight puffiness of her face, it's from the trauma and we had to shave her head to make the incisions to relive the pressure."
I nod, turning my gaze to my mother, who kisses me on the cheek. "Tell her we're all here, Hon," she whispers before settling into a chair on the opposite side of the hall, flanked by Rosa and Kendall.
I feel fragile. I feel broken. I'm afraid to go in, because I know I'll break even further, seeing the woman I love helpless in a hospital bed. I don't like feeling this way. I'm used to being in control; I'm used to being able to detach myself.
The doctor steps up to the door and it opens, the sound making me tense up. Looking back at my mother one more time, I see her smile and it gives me a little courage. Stepping through the doorway behind the doctor, my wall crumbles. Disintegrates. Obliterates. I suddenly wish I was still in the hallway, where the blinds that are over the glass hide the view from my eyes.
"I'll leave you alone, but a nurse will be in in about fifteen minutes," the doctor whispers, patting me on the shoulder before leaving me alone.
She has tubes going in and out, all over her body. Her head is bandaged, and as I step up to the side of her bed, I see that her eyes are rimmed with bruises, her face being swollen and red. She has IV's on both hands, a breathing tube shoved down her throat and as I reach for her hand, the tears stream down my cheeks. She must be in so much pain. Her hand is warm and clammy to the touch.
"Hey Rhea," I whisper, pulling a chair up to her left side. Her right arm is in a sling with bandages underneath. As I run my fingers along hers, the tears stream down my face. "Baby, I've missed you so much," I say, leaning down and running my cheek and chin over her hand, turning it palm up to hold it to my face. I need her to wake up. I need her to be okay.
"Baby, you gotta wake up." I kiss her palm, trying to force the tears away. I twirl her engagement ring around her ring finger. Her skin has a faint trace of the citrus lotion she loves and I squeeze her fingers just a little more into my lips. "You should see our son, Charlie. He's got your eyes with a little more grey." I turn my head to look up at her, letting silence fall so that the only sounds in the room are those of her breathing machine and heart monitor, edged with the faint dripping of the IVs.
Those machines are keeping her alive. They are keeping me alive. My thoughts are garbled, bouncing around to all the things we haven't done yet. All the adventures we haven't taken. I think back to when we were younger and all the times I wish I would've told her how I feel. The silly little grin she always had when she was reading to herself in the library. The way she would sing along and dance to the radio of Randy's truck when we were home and had time to hang out.
I laugh to myself, thinking of her carefree form twirling around to the music. Randy and I use to laugh at her, making her blush, but I loved it.
"You remember that song your momma used to love when we were little." I smile, wiping at the tears on my chin. Her mom had loved the group Alabama and had played their albums non-stop when we were younger. "You know the one. 'There's No Way', I think it was called. You remember the lyrics?" I hold her hand to my cheek and try to remain calm, keeping the tears at bay.
"You know 'em. 'There's no way I can make it without you, There's no way that I'd even try. If I had to survive without you in my life, I know I wouldn't last a day. Oh babe, there's no way'," I run my hand up her shoulder and brush my fingers along her cheek and chin, letting the slight warmth sink in. My wall is breaking. "'I don't know how I could do without, Holding you close every night. I've waited so long just to have you to hold. Now that I've got you, I'll never let go.'"
The last word of the verse comes out as a sob and I turn my face into her palm once more, holding her fingers to my lips as I cry. This really is my fault. If I had had the guts three years ago, hell, ten years ago, to let her know my feelings, to not let my friendship with her brother hold me back, we could've been happy all this time, deflecting the obsession Duke had over her before it even started. If I had only had the guts to tell Randy straight up that I was in love with his sister.
If hadn’t been such a wimp. If I hadn’t been such a fucking chicken. What kind of SEAL, what kind of man am I, for acting that way?
"Baby, that old song is right. There's no way I can do this without you. I can't survive without you. You're everything that's good about me. I've done some horrible things in the name of my country, but with you, none of that matters. You bring out the best in me, the strong in me, and I can't go one day without you." Putting her fingers to my forehead, I bow my head and close my eyes.
"Lord, I know You have a million reasons not to listen and that it's been too long since I've done this, but please, have mercy on me and spare me a minute." I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss them lightly, bowing my head again. "Please don't take Rhea from me. Have her wake up and h
eal, to be with her family. She has done nothing to deserve this. She's that missin' part of me, and I can't live without her. Please," I say in barely a whisper, letting my tears drip down on Rhea's fingers. "Please, I beg You, let her be okay."
I kiss her fingers and stand to place a lingering kiss to her bandaged forehead, running my fingers over her warm skin. Standing straight, I roll my shoulders and reach up and scrape my hands over my cheeks, wiping the moisture away. Taking a handful of deep breaths, I turn and head for the automatic door to let my friends and family in. Maybe their presence will help.
Hopefully Rhea can hear me and she'll listen to my pleas. Hopefully God was listening and will help me with my prayers. Hope. It's what I'm riding on right now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rhea
November 3, 2012
"Mmm," I mumble, still not wanting to wake up from the comfortable sleep. I can feel the warm sun on my face and reaching my hand lazily up to my hair, I feel something familiar stuck in it. The smell of damp earth and leaves hits me before I open my eyes to look up into a beautifully blue, cloudless, sky. The only thing breaking my view is a sprawling tree above me, the leaves on the branches being different red, orange and yellow hues. Pulling the leaves from my hair, I smile. It's so beautiful.
I yawn and stretch, sitting up slowly to find myself dressed in a hospital gown. "What the …?" I mumble, looking around me. Taking in the open space as I scratch my head and stand, I recognize it. I'm at the backside of Spratley Cemetery, just down the hill from where my mother and brother are buried.
‘Why am I here?’ I think to myself. The last thing I remember is being in the garage on the day Chad was coming home from deployment. Then Duke. Then....
A sharp lightning bolt of pain runs through my forehead, and it almost knocks me over. A buzzing in my ears seems to run all the way through my vision, blurring it, then it gives way to the sound of laughing and I slowly raise my head, looking around for the source. It echoes through the quiet calm of the woodsy area and I don’t know why, but it makes me smile from ear to ear. The louder and closer it gets, the faster my heart beats, the more I smile. After about a minute I can’t take it anymore and standing, ignoring the pain in my leg, I sprint in the direction of it, laughing and giggling like a little girl.
Coming Home: Book 2 The Wakefield Romance Series Page 17
