“Are you okay? Fuck, are you okay?”
It was one of the other drivers, stumbling out of his own car and hanging on to Hunter’s door.
“I’m fine. I’ve called the ambulance and the police. Go check on the other car.”
He should probably do the same—the other vehicle looked to have taken the worst of the crash, and he couldn’t detect any movement in the front seat. But he couldn’t make himself let go of Airin’s hand after he’d pressed his fingers to her wrist to take her pulse, and he knew he wouldn’t leave her side until the ambulance came.
Twenty minutes later, Airin was strapped to a stretcher and Hunter was riding beside her.
“Take us to Kamehameha Medical Center,” he told the driver.
“Whitney Hospital is closer.”
“Only by five minutes. Take us to Kamehameha.”
He’d told the paramedics he was Airin’s brother, but that wouldn’t fly at a hospital. The only place he had a shot at staying with her was Kamehameha, where the wife of a fellow astronaut worked in the ER. Dr. Sue Jackson would vouch for him and let him stay with Airin.
He hoped.
Because here was the kicker: he had no fucking clue who she was.
Her dress didn’t have pockets, and she didn’t have a purse with her. He thought he remembered one from when he first saw her at the bar—small, with a long leather strap—but if she’d had one then, she’d left it there or at the beach. God knew they hadn’t been paying a lot of attention to details when they’d decided to go back to his place.
He called the bar, but no one had turned in a ladies’ purse. He asked the bartender if he recalled carding a woman named Airin and what her last name was, but no dice. The guy remembered her but not the name.
That made her a Jane Doe—or at least an Airin Doe. And he had to go someplace where they’d let him stay with her.
But when they arrived at the ER, it turned out that even if you knew someone, HIPAA regulations were still the supreme power in the universe. Dr. Jackson told him to stay in the waiting room while they assessed Airin’s condition, ran scans and tests, and made sure she was stable.
“But I don’t know her last name. I don’t have her phone or ID. I have no way to reach her family. Jesus Christ, Sue. Shouldn’t there at least be a familiar face there for her? I don’t want her to wake up alone and confused and—”
“I understand what you’re saying, Hunter. We’ll tell Airin you’re here once she wakes up, okay? The rest will be up to her. Now leave me alone so I can do my job.”
He was a pilot, and that was an instruction he understood. He let go of Sue’s lab coat, which he’d been hanging on to like a goddamn child, and went out into the waiting room.
The next three hours were the longest of his life.
He sprang to his feet when Dr. Jackson finally came through the doors to the waiting room. She was frowning, and for a few awful seconds he was sure Airin was dead.
“She’s stable,” Sue said when she saw his face. “My God, you look terrible. Are you sure you won’t let me look you over?”
“I’m fine,” he said brusquely. “Is Airin awake?”
Sue shook her head. “She regained consciousness, but she’s asleep right now. While she was awake, I asked permission to discuss her condition with you, and she agreed. She also said she’d like you in the room with her if you’re still willing.”
“Willing? That’s what I want. But how is she doing? She was in there a long time. What’s going on?”
“She has a mild concussion and two broken ribs, which resulted in a pneumothorax.”
His hands, stuffed in his pockets, tightened into fists.
“English, Sue. What’s a pneumothorax?”
“Basically, a collapsed lung.”
He stared at her. “Jesus.”
She put a hand on his arm. “It sounds worse than it is. We’ve reinflated the lung, and once we remove the chest tube and sew up the incision where it went in, that part of her injury will heal entirely within a couple of days. The broken ribs will take longer—at least four weeks.”
“And her concussion?”
“Very mild. We’ll keep her in the hospital for a few days, and we’ll be monitoring the head injury as well as the injuries to her thorax.” She hesitated.
“What?” he asked immediately. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s nothing medical. But when she regained consciousness, we asked for her last name. She wouldn’t give it to us.”
“You mean she has amnesia or something like that?”
“No. She could tell us if she wanted to. She refused.”
He frowned. “Refused to give her name? Why?”
Sue raised her eyebrows. “I was hoping you might have some insight into that, Hunter. You say you’ve only known her a few days, but even in that short amount of time you might have expected to learn her last name. But she didn’t give it to you.”
“No. She didn’t.”
“Do you think she could be running away from something? An abusive partner or family member?”
Christ. Was that possible?
He forced himself to think about it, recalling every one of their interactions. She’d told him she’d never had a romantic partner, and he believed her. But what about family? Could there be something wrong there?
Whatever the problem was, he didn’t think it was physical abuse. Airin definitely had her secrets, but nothing she’d said or done had given him any hint that she was dealing with that kind of trauma.
“She told me she’d had medical issues as a kid. She said her childhood was really sheltered because of that.”
“That makes sense. There’s a heart surgery scar.”
Heart surgery. Jesus.
“I think she’s interested in breaking away from her family, but I don’t think she’s the victim of abuse.” He paused. “But the truth is, I don’t really know. I don’t really know her.”
Sue nodded. “We’ll table that for now, then. Come with me.”
She led the way through the swinging doors and down the hospital corridor.
It didn’t take them long to reach their destination. Sue opened the door of a private room and ushered him inside.
His heart clenched in his chest.
He remembered what Kaleo had called Airin. This was Snow White at the end of the story, lying in a glass coffin with her face deathly pale and her black silk hair scattered on the white pillowcase . . . if Snow White had been attached to monitors and stuck full of tubes.
“She’ll probably wake up soon,” Sue said. “I should mention that finding herself in a hospital seemed to cause distress.” She paused. “I mean, more than the usual distress of someone finding herself in a hospital.”
Hunter nodded to show he understood.
“When she wakes up, try to keep her calm. Try to convince her to tell us who she is. Find out if there’s anyone we can contact for her—or anyone she wants protection from. I know you can only give us a couple of hours, Hunter, but I do appreciate it. If you need anything or if there’s any change, just—”
“Wait a minute. A couple of hours? Why only a couple of hours?”
Sue was staring at him. “Doesn’t your helicopter leave at six?”
Shit.
As Hunter stared back at Sue, he felt the color draining out of his face until he must have looked as pale as Airin.
“Right,” he said. “Of course.”
Sue’s eyes narrowed. “You forgot? Damn it, Hunter, I want to check you over.”
He shook his head. “I only forgot for a minute. I’m fine, Sue. Just a couple of bruises. And the medicos will give us all a final checkup before we go in. Don’t worry about it.”
Her lips were pursed. “Did you get any kind of blow to your head? Lose consciousness for any time at all?”
“No. Go do your job, okay? I’ll stay here and watch over Airin.”
“All right. Hopefully by the time you have to leave, we’l
l know a little more about her situation.”
Once Sue was gone, silence fell in the room.
There was an upholstered chair over by the window. Hunter grabbed it and set it down by the head of Airin’s bed. He sat down, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and stared at her face.
This was his fault.
He’d gone to Waikiki tonight instead of staying in Kailua. He’d had no reason to do that—no bachelor party for his brother, no one he was meeting, nothing in particular he wanted to do. It had been his choice to drive across the mountains to the place where he’d met Airin.
Had he been hoping to see her again?
What a fucking sap he was.
But even after going to Waikiki, even after seeing her in that bar, everything could still have been okay. He could have bought her a drink like a normal human being and had an hour’s conversation with her. They could have shared one more kiss before saying good night, goodbye, and good luck.
Instead, he’d taken her to the beach and practically screwed her in public.
Even then there’d been an opportunity for a happy ending. I had a great time with you tonight, but now I have to get ready for the next phase in my career.
But he hadn’t said that. He’d said, Come back with me to Kailua and let’s fuck. I know it’ll be your first time, and I still don’t know your last name, and in less than twenty-four hours I’ll be sealed in a biosphere, but what the hell. It’s only both our lives, right? Let’s be reckless.
And now here they were.
He replayed that moment on the Pali Highway. As inclined as he was to blame himself for everything right now, he couldn’t honestly claim responsibility for the crash. He’d been focused on driving safely even in the face of his lust for the woman in his passenger seat, and he’d done the right thing in trying to pull over and let the guy behind him pass. What had followed had been sheer bad luck, helped along by the impatience and carelessness of the driver behind him.
The police had supported that conclusion when they’d come to interview him during his long hours in the waiting room. He’d also learned that everyone involved in the crash had pulled through, thank God.
So no, the accident itself hadn’t been his fault. Years of training in the precise analysis of mechanical events forced him to admit that, and the police had confirmed it. But everything that had led up to the accident?
That sure as hell was his fault.
Airin was lying in this hospital bed because of him.
He studied the lines of her face, the feathery black lashes on her cheeks, the graceful arch of her eyebrows. Even the tubes stuck in her body and the bandage on her temple didn’t detract from her beauty.
He remembered what Sue had said. When she’d regained consciousness, Airin had refused to give her name—and she’d panicked when she saw she was in a hospital.
What was she afraid of? He still didn’t think she was fleeing from any kind of physical danger. He’d been in the theater of war, and he knew what that particular fear looked like. He’d also known abuse victims, and he knew the signs of that kind of trauma as well.
No, he didn’t think Airin was afraid for her safety. But she was afraid of something, even if it was just the memory of whatever medical shit she’d gone through when she was younger. She’d had heart surgery, after all. That was pretty damn scary.
And now she was all alone . . . except for him.
As the minutes ticked by, a depressing predawn malaise settled over the room. After what felt like an eternity, he looked up at the wall clock.
It was four thirty in the morning.
He needed to leave right now, collect his things from Kailua, and get his ass to the helipad.
Then he looked back at Airin.
He didn’t know her last name. They were practically strangers. But she’d been in his car when the accident had happened, and even if he hadn’t caused the crash, it was because of him that she was lying here.
He put his head in his hands. His crew was supposed to enter the biosphere at nine o’clock that morning. The eight of them had been in Hawaii for a year, working on joint NASA-UH projects. They’d done other, shorter mission simulations together. They were, right now, the elite of NASA’s potential Mars mission astronauts.
They’d all made sacrifices to get where they were. The biosphere project itself was a sacrifice. But there was no question in any of their minds that it was worth it.
When he thought about going to Mars, a fierce longing flamed up inside him. He’d wanted to travel for as long as he could remember. A journey of 140 million miles—and the chance to stand on an alien world—would satisfy even his wanderlust.
There was a backup crew for this simulation. A group of eight astronauts with equivalent skills and specialties, as dedicated to the Mars mission as the first team. There wasn’t one of them who wouldn’t do a backflip off a rooftop for the chance to go into the biosphere. That included his counterpart, Liam Jones—a good man and an even better pilot.
He pulled out his phone and made a call to Ted Barkley, the chief project engineer.
A few minutes after he hung up, Sue came through the door.
“Airin hasn’t woken up yet,” she said—a statement rather than a question.
“No. Not yet.”
She sighed. “You have to get going, Hunter. When she does wake up, I promise to let you know her status. I’m sure she—”
“No.”
Sue blinked. “What?”
“I’m not going. I’m staying.”
She stared at him. “You’re not serious.”
He wished to hell he wasn’t.
“Yeah. I am.”
“Hunter.” Sue shook her head slowly. “I just got off the phone with my wife, who’s leaving me for eight months to pursue the one thing she’s wanted since she was a little girl. A chance to be part of the first manned mission to Mars.”
“Sue—”
She held up a hand. “If you tell me you don’t want that as much as Courtney does, I’ll call you a liar. We’re going to take good care of Airin. Now get the hell out of here.”
“No.”
“Goddamn it—”
“It’s done. I phoned Barkley. They’re calling up Jones from the backup crew.” He paused. “At least someone’s having a good day because of me.”
“I don’t believe it. If you do this, I swear to God you’ll regret it the rest of your life. It’s not too late. Call Barkley back.”
He dragged a hand through his hair. “Sue, the only thing you’re accomplishing right now is making me fucking depressed. I’m staying, so get over it.”
“Hunter—” Her beeper went off, and she glanced at it. “I have to go. Please reconsider this decision while I’m gone.”
And then, thank God, she left.
Chapter Eight
When Airin woke up, she was plunged into every nightmare she’d had since she was nine years old.
Hospital bed. Hospital smell. Hospital sights and sounds and sensations.
She jerked upright as panic clawed at her chest.
“No, no, no, no, no—”
“Airin.”
A hand on her wrist, squeezing. She turned her head and saw—
Hunter.
It took her only a moment to remember who he was. But that still didn’t explain where she was or why they were here.
“Is it . . . is it my heart?” she asked, almost too terrified to finish the question.
“No, angel. Do you remember the accident?”
Accident? Had there been an accident?
She shook her head. “We were at the beach,” she said slowly. Images of kissing him flooded through her mind, and she felt her face heating. “Is that what happened to my heart? Was it too much?”
He squeezed her hand again. “Your heart’s fine. It’s your rib cage we’re worried about. We were driving to Kailua and we crashed, and you broke a couple of ribs and collapsed part of your lung. Do you remember the
doctor telling you any of this? Dr. Jackson? She talked to you when you first woke up.”
She shook her head again. “I want to get out of here.”
“Not an option,” Hunter said. “They’re going to keep you a few days for observation.”
Panic rose. “They can’t make me stay.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Airin—”
She licked her lips, which felt dry. “My ribs don’t hurt. If I broke them, why don’t they hurt?”
“They gave you pain medication.”
“Through my IV?”
“Yeah.”
There was an IV in her left arm and a chest tube between two of her ribs on her right side. Down below, hidden by the blanket, there was a catheter. The rawness in her throat meant that she’d had a breathing tube in there at some point, though that at least had been removed.
She remembered the technique her favorite nurse had taught her once, for whenever she felt overwhelmed by hospital-induced panic. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, slowly and evenly, and after a few moments she could speak calmly again.
“I don’t remember a car accident. The last thing I remember is being on the beach with you and . . .” A sudden flush swept over her, and she worried her quickening pulse would set off the heart monitor.
In through the nose, out through the mouth.
“I remember that, too,” Hunter said.
She cleared her throat. “How long ago was that? I mean, how long have I been in the—” She didn’t want to say hospital. “In here?”
“The beach was last night. It’s ten in the morning now.”
Ten in the morning.
There was something about that. Something important . . . something . . .
Realization flooded through her.
“Oh God,” she said, staring at Hunter.
His jaw was shadowed with stubble, and he looked like he hadn’t slept. He leaned in closer, his face concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“You. You’re supposed to be in the biosphere. Oh God, Hunter. Are they waiting for you?”
He reached out and brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek. “Don’t worry about that, angel. It’s not an issue.”
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