“I’m sorry too. I thought someone had already talked to you too. An ambulance just left with Brooke. She’s in critical condition. They found a male body in your bathroom. I’m assuming based on what you said when you called us from Rachel’s house that, that’s Ian?”
I nod my head, yes.
“And like Andy said, we couldn’t save Bruno. The last room they got to was your bedroom and that’s where they found him.”
“And Brooke?”
“She’s lucky to even be alive right now. We found her taped to a chair on the living room floor. Based on the burn patterns it looks like Ian used an accelerate all the way around the house except in the living room. So the living room was one of the last rooms to catch fire. It doesn’t make sense why he ran to the bathroom unless he thought he could get out the window maybe? But I don’t think he was expecting to get stuck back there like he did.”
Eight
Brooke
I open my eyes to the warm sun on my face. A smile spreads on my cheeks as I stretch out in bed. I roll over to find Conner laying beside me. Finally, I wake up to my man still in bed with me. I reach over and wrap my arms around him. He lifts his arm allowing me to tuck my head into the nook at his shoulder. My place. I smile and breathe in his scent. Mmmm, woodsy apples. He presses a firm kiss on my forehead.
With my fingers I slowly start to trace his body. Following my finger with my eyes though I could probably do it with my eyes closed I outline each ab, each perfect separation of his muscle groups. I hear him hum into my hair letting me know it feels good to him. I feel so safe, so peaceful in his arms. I want to live in this moment forever.
Then suddenly a dark haired boy comes rushing through the door at full speed and jumps into the bed on top of us. We all laugh and I realize this boy is my boy. Our boy. This is our son. No one tells me this. I somehow just know. His hair is dark like Conner’s and his eyes are the same wonderful, bright shade of blue. He snuggles under the blankets getting comfortable between us. I glance over at Conner who is smiling brightly back at me. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s perfect.
****
Conner
I’ve been sitting in the waiting room for what feels like hours. My leg is bouncing so hard I think I might soon break through to the floor below us. My hands are squeezed together at the fingers. I’m holding on so tightly I think I’m cutting off my own circulation but I don’t care. I pull my balled up hands to my mouth and hold them there as I stare blankly at the floor. I’m vaguely aware that other people start trickling into the waiting area but none of them draw my attention away from my thoughts of Brooke.
She has to be okay. She has to. She’s strong. She’s a fighter. If I hadn’t called Joe before calling her she would definitely be dead. I never would have made it there in time. The thoughts twist my stomach into knots and form a lump in my throat as I choke back more tears. I never realized how many tears I was capable of crying until tonight. But crying doesn’t do me or Brooke any good. Nothing I do will do her any good at this point. All that’s left for me to do is wait and see. The helplessness of my circumstances ignites a flame in the pit of my stomach.
I feel a soft hand brush against my shoulder and I finally allow my eyes to break my glare at the floor and look up. A wave of guilt threatens to drown me where I sit as I look up into Brooke’s mother’s deep, green, tear filled eyes. “Polly,” I breathe, rising to my feet. “I’m so sorry, Polly,” I say squeezing her tightly into a hug.
I feel her hand rest on the back of my head. “Don’t you try to take the blame for this Conner. This was not your fault.” My guilt begins to overflow as tears start trailing down my face.
“I should have been there. I should have kept her safe,” I cry as I squeeze tighter to her. She pulls from my embrace and takes my chin tightly in her hand so I have to look at her.
“Now you listen to me. My baby loves you. She’s gonna need you to be strong for her. Don’t you go falling apart on us before she has even started to fight, you hear me?”
“Yes,” I nod my head at her and for the first time I realize Brooke’s dad is standing behind her. “Scott.” I nod my head at him and he nods back but doesn’t say anything. His expression remains flat and unmoved. I hear the swinging doors of where the operating rooms are and I spin around quickly. A small man, maybe five foot six inches tall with dark hair and glasses appears. He looks around the room and walks toward the now group that has gathered waiting to hear news about Brooke.
Hesitantly he calls out, “I’m looking for the family of Ms. Tyson.” His voice is small. I feel Polly grip my hand tightly. I didn’t even realize she had taken ahold of my hand until now. “We’re her parents,” she calls to the doctor. He turns to face her and Scott, who’s now by her side wrapping a protective arm around her waist as if he is what’s keeping her on her feet.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Soverns. Let me start by saying, Brooke is alive,” he says holding a hand out and I hear a sigh of relief escape the mouths of everyone in the room. “But, she is in critical condition. She suffered a tracheobronchial injury which was caused by the chemicals in whatever accelerant was used in the fire. Similarly, she suffered carbon monoxide poisoning. We had to intubate due to the amount of soot in her airways and nostrils. Her carboxyhemoglobin levels are measuring at sixty percent which has led to a coma.”
I inhale sharply and hold the breath. I feel myself shaking the more he talks. My legs grow weaker and weaker with every word spoken.
“We have started her on hyperbaric oxygen therapy but I need you to understand that she may not come out of this,” his tone grows gravely serious and his warning makes my blood run cold. I can’t listen to this. I can’t entertain the possibility that she won’t come back to me. My mind flashes back to just a few hours ago when I lost all control and collapsed on the sidewalk outside of my house. When I thought I lost her. I can’t go through that again.
I suddenly feel the urge to vomit and I forcefully push past the doctor and find a small trash can by the door. I stuff my head in the bin and fall to my knees as the puke pours out of my mouth. I can’t handle this anymore. My fucking nerves are shot. I dry heave one or two more times but nothing comes out. I don’t think I have anything left inside me. I feel completely empty. I glance over and Gabe is kneeling at my side. I don’t even know when he got here but I’m grateful that he is.
****
The minutes tick past in slow motion but somehow quickly turn to hours. Before I know it the hours have turned to days and I can’t remember the last time I ate or slept. I know I’m starting to smell. I haven’t showered since I got here two days ago but I can’t bring myself to leave. I can’t bear the thought of not being here if she wakes up. When. When she wakes up. She’s going to wake up.
My eyes burn from crying so much. I know it’s impossible, but I think I have managed to cry every tear I’m capable of making and now my eyes burn from how dry they are and my body isn’t able to make anymore. I run a hand through my greasy hair as I pretend to pick at the cold french fries Bobby dropped off earlier today. I feel fragile. Weak. Like a strong wind could come blowing through and knock me over without difficult.
They’ve put her in a room in the ICU now. We’re allowed to go back and see her but only one at a time and we have to scrub in like a surgeon before we can go in. The doctor said they have to monitor her closely due to the intubation and her having hyperbaric oxygen therapy. He says complications aren’t uncommon but they are easily managed. He also says as long as her levels come down they can remove the tube tonight. Regardless, it doesn’t make me feel better. Nothing will make me feel better except Brooke waking up.
I wait patiently in the waiting room for Polly to come out so I can go back with her again. I hear the ping of the elevator and I glance over to see Scott coming off of it. His eyes are sunken in and his face is pale. He looks like shit. Probably just as much as what I do. I rub my hand along my overgrown scruff that’s taking over my face
. Other than Brooke’s parents I’m the only other person who hasn’t left the hospital since the night she got here.
Scott walks toward me and hands me a large styrofoam container. He and I had a great relationship when I was a teenager. It was almost as if we had an unspoken agreement that I would protect and look out for Brooke in his stead when he couldn’t. I take the container from his rough shaky hands and my eyes fall to the floor, too ashamed to even look at him.
I know I’ve let him down. He hasn’t said it but he’s been giving me the cold shoulder since he got here. And I don’t blame him at all. I know he’s disappointed in me. I know he blames me for Brooke’s condition even if it’s only a part of him and even if he won’t say it out loud. I’m disappointed in me too. I blame myself more than he ever could. The guilt has been eating me apart from the inside out since the second Ian answered her phone. The only thing that has kept it from consuming me completely has been the shred of hope that Brooke will wake up. Once that’s gone, though, there will be nothing left to keep me here.
Scott grumbles something beside me, snapping my out of my self-loathing thoughts. “You hear me?”
“Huh?” I answer.
“I said you better eat something.” I look down in my hands at the container he gestures to with his chin. I peel back the lid and find chicken noodle soup inside. As hungry as I am I don’t want to eat. I feel like I don’t deserve it. I feel like I need to punish myself and keep punishing myself until Brooke wakes up, until this whole thing is just a terrible memory that we never have to look back on again.
“You listen to me, Conner. My little girl needs you to be strong for her. And right now you don’t look like you're strong enough to hold your own damn head up. Brooke needs you and you’re letting her down. She’s always needed you and now isn’t any different. You better pull yourself together. Be strong for her like I know you can be.”
I don’t know if he’s telling me this out of concern for me or for Brooke but his words sting regardless. They sting because he’s right. I’ve been so consumed by my own grief that I haven’t even tried to take care of myself for her sake. I haven’t even tried to be strong for her. I let myself fall apart on that sidewalk outside my house when I thought she was gone and I never bothered to pull myself back together again. Instead, I’ve been existing in a fog of grief. And she deserves more than that. She deserves more from me.
I eye the soup reluctantly but start taking small bites at a time, letting the warmth of the soup fill my stomach. Scott slaps my back and lets out a ragged breath. “I’m glad she has you, Conner. You’re one of the only people beside her mother who loves her as much as I do and I appreciate that you’re here.” I look over at him and a small but sad smile forms on his lips.
“I wouldn’t know how to be anywhere else,” I reply.
Nine
Conner
I sit there beside her bed in complete silence. I hold tightly to her hand, waiting, praying for something to happen. They took the tube out of her throat last night and she already looks more like herself. The color is starting to return back to her skin. It’s no longer the ashy gray color it was when she got here. There’s a light rose dusting on the apples of her cheeks now.
They said it’s a good sign that she is breathing on her own without any difficulty. The doctor feels she reacted well to the hyperbaric oxygen chamber and told us that it was huge in her recovery from the carbon monoxide poisoning. They said the tracheobronchial injury is healing well, too. But she may have difficulty swallowing and may continue coughing for several weeks after this. As far as the doctors can tell she is healing up nicely. Now it’s just a matter of her waking up.
Dr. Sovern told us last night it could happen anytime now and I’ve been by her side ever since. An immovable force. Her source of strength and comfort. I run my fingers through her honey blonde hair and stare at her, trying to will her awake. Wake up, Brooke. C’mon baby. You can do it. Come back to me. A nurse moves into the room startling me and I clear my throat.
She smiles shyly as she watches me through long lashes. She bats her eyes a few times and at first I think she’s going to try to flirt with me. Really? She walks toward me and takes my hand catching me off guard. My eyes flash to hers in an uncomfortable panic. She raises her eyebrows at me and places my hand under Brooke’s. I leave out a sigh of relief and smile back at her. She takes mine and Brooke’s hands and raises them to my cheek, rubbing the back of Brooke’s against the stubble on my face. “I’ve heard people in comas can sometimes feel people touching them. She may be able to feel that.” She smiles and my heart warms at her kindness.
“Any other advice?”
“Singing. I’ve also heard when someone is in a coma they can sometimes hear what’s happening around them. I guess talking would work but I prefer singing.” She adjusts a few tubes and writes something down on the clipboard at the foot of Brooke’s bed before slipping back out of the room.
Singing, huh?
Oh, her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shinin’. Her hair, her hair falls perfectly without her tryin’.
I hum the first few verses but then start to sing the chorus softly to her when I get there. As the words float from my lips I feel the tears starting to build up in my eyes and one escapes. I feel it roll off my cheek and on her hand that I have pressed tightly to my face. I continue singing to her and when the song is over I sing it again.
The third time through my hope for a sudden miraculous recovery starts to temper down. I lay her hand flat on her bed beside her but continue holding it. I finish up the last verse then stop. I leave out a ragged breath of exhaustion and rest my forehead on the bed. That’s when I feel it. There’s a twitch in her fingers and my heart jumps. My eyes flash to her face then to her hand. “Brooke? Can you hear me?”
Chills radiate throughout my body. I want to scream. I want to call for her parents but I can’t move. I can’t leave her. This is it. She’s coming back to me. I press the call button on the side of her bed and squeeze tightly to her hand. “That’s my girl.”
Brooke
I hear voices but they sound so far away. I open my eyes trying to see where the noise is coming from but there’s a bright fluorescent light shining down in my face and it makes me squint them closed again. I hear the voices getting louder like the people are getting closer. Suddenly I recognize one of the voices. Mom? I try again to open my eyes but this time I look down so the lights don’t blind me. Everything is foggy at first but as my vision starts to clarify I see my dad sitting in a chair at the foot of my bed.
What? “Wha-What’s going on?” I ask. My throat burns as I speak but when I try to reach up to touch it I realize someone is holding my hand. I look to my right and my mom is sitting beside me, holding tightly to my hand.
“Oh, honey,” she says softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I soon realize I’m in a hospital room. I look to my other side and my gaze lands on Conner. His eyes are wide and his expression is a mixture of exhaustion and excitement. He looks terrible. My heart aches at the sight. I want to reach out to him. What has happened?
“Brooke…” my mom starts, pulling my eyes away from Conner and back to her. “There was a fire. Do you remember what happened?”
I take a second to think as I try to dig out the last memory I have from my brain. “I-I remember being at your house.” My head flips back around to Conner and I watch his beautiful blue eyes get cloudy. I start to remember things. Moment by moment, piece by piece until a picture of Conner and I having sex is painted perfectly in my mind. I smile at him and he smiles back at me but it looks forced. He reaches out for my hand and I see tears start to form in his eyes. He pulls my hand to his scruffy face and rubs the back of it against his soft lips, nodding as he does.
I’m on the right track. I take a deep breath in. Okay, what else. I try to think harder. A fire… a fire...I search my mind but nothing seems to trigger it. I look at my mom and shrug. “I�
��m not sure I remember a fire.”
“Brooke,” Conner’s deep voice says my name and demands my attention. I turn back to him and feel him squeeze tighter to my hand. “It was Ian, baby. Ian broke in. He trapped you in the house. He started the fire.” He speaks very slowly as if he’s telling the story to a small child but his words are the key I needed to unlock what my mind tried to bury. It all comes flooding back to me at once. Bruno grumbling, Ian’s dark eyes staring back at me as the flames built up around us, him escaping like the coward he is, the smoke choking the breath from my lungs. I feel myself start to sweat at just the thoughts and I shutter at the memories. Clinging tightly to Conner’s hand I feel the tears welling up in my eyes.
“Ohh God. Ian!” My voice catches on his name. “He escaped. He got out. He ran and he left me there. Did they find him? And what about Rachel? Tell me they found him.” Panic rises in my chest and leaks up into my words as they rapidly pour out of my mouth.My throat feels like it's on fire but I need answers to my questions. I try to ask more but I’m thrown into a coughing fit that stifles the reset of my questions.
In an instant Conner’s on his feet wrapping me in his arms. “Hey, it’s okay… It’s okay. It’s over. I’m here. I’m here, Brooke. They found him. Okay? Ian’s gone...He-he’s gone. They arrested Rachel. She’s gone too.” I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Conner’s words wrap around me like a security blanket. It’s over. He’s here. Ian’s gone.
I hear my mom start to cry as her hand flies to her mouth and she looks at my dad. He nods his head and rises to his feet. “I’ll go get the doctor… let him know she’s awake.” He scurries out of the room and returns with the doctor minutes later.
A short dark haired man comes into the room carrying a manilla folder. He flips it open and looks through its contents before coming to my bedside. He steps between Conner and I. Conner reluctantly lets go of my hand and slides back leaving room for the man to move between us.
There's Fire: A Friends to Lovers Romance (Where There's Smoak Book 5) Page 7
