Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1) (27 page)

Unconscious? Is that what he just said?
Jack was thankful there was a chair behind him, because otherwise he would have fallen when he plopped down without bothering to look first. She had been unconscious when the ambulance had brought her in; he didn’t know what it meant for her to be out for more than two hours, but he was scared. The news shook him. But he needed to keep it together, not just for himself but for Chrissy. His elbows rested on his lap and his hands covered his face. “Yes. Her brother is on his way, but that’ll take about two hours.”

The guard nodded in understanding. “These privacy laws are hell.”

Jack looked up. “They sure are.”

The man gave him an understanding look and squeezed Jack’s shoulder. “I’m going to let you be. I trust you will control that temper of yours.”

“Yes. Please, apologize to Jonah on my behalf. I’ll wait in here for Christine’s brother.”

The man nodded before walking out.

Jack sat in silence for a few minutes, but the room was closing in on him and the small hospital chair was like a vise. He stood up and paced around. The thought of Chrissy waking up alone in that room unnerved him. He should be there, holding her hand, privacy laws be damned! But when another thought made its way to the front of his mind, bile started creeping up his throat and the room started spinning. He’d have her scared and alone a hundred times over than unconscious or even worse …

He couldn’t even begin to think of the “even worse.” He’d known Chrissy for over twenty-five years. Granted, there’d been an eleven-year hiatus, but that was irrelevant, because from the moment their eyes had locked that night on the road, something had changed. The axis of his world had shifted.

And what if she woke up and still didn’t want to see him? He had no real claim to her. The what-ifs were starting to consume him. He continued to pace.

Calmly, or at least, with whatever calm he could muster, Jack walked down the hall to the reception area and saw that Jonah was still there. When Jack approached, Jonah flinched.

“I’m sorry about earlier, man.”

Jonah nodded.

“I just … is she awake yet? Can you give me any news? Any news at all?” Jack couldn’t remember ever having cried in front of strangers before. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried at all. But tears pricked the back of his eyes and he choked out the words. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’m dying, man. Please. Anything. Is she awake?”

Johan nodded and picked up the phone. He said something to someone and hung up. “I called the nurses’ station. She’s still unconscious but her vitals are okay. They will let me know as soon as there’s any news.”

Jack cleared his throat again and extended a shaky hand to Jonah, who reluctantly took it. “Thanks, man.”

Jack went back to his prison cell and waited. He paced and prayed and pleaded, paced some more, and then prayed some more. He then heard a commotion from somewhere down the hall, and the guard from two hours earlier burst into the room escorting Slade inside much the same way he’d escorted Jack—just with a little more difficulty.

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Slade hissed.

“I’m about to call the police and have you arrested. Poor Jonah’s had a hell of a night.” He looked over at Jack. “This one’s with you?”

Jack nodded and pointed with his thumb. “The blood relative.”

“Figures.” He released Slade, who then turned around to take a look at the man who had secured him. Much like Jack, Slade rubbed his wrists together, feeling the effects of the older man’s iron grip. “Jonah already told you that they’d send out a nurse to speak with you shortly. Stay here until then.” Slade took a step forward, but Jack reached for his forearm and pulled him back. “Control him,” the man said, not intimidated at all by the sheer size of Jack and Slade. Jack nodded, and the guard disappeared.

“Get your hands off me.” Slade swung his arm away from Jack’s grip and moved toward the door.

“If you get arrested, you’ll never see her. I’ll never see her. We won’t know
what’s going on. You are the only one they’ll give information to. So don’t fuck this up with your temper.”

“You mean you haven’t been able to see her?”

“No. They won’t let me see her, and they won’t give me any information.”

“So all we know is that she was in an accident and she’s unconscious?”

Jack nodded.

“Fuck! She left because she was pissed off at me. What if …” Slade slumped back into a chair.

“No, she left because she was mad at
me
,” Jack said.

“We really screwed up, man.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “Royally.”

A nurse walked in. Both men sprang up. “Slade Martin?”

Slade took a step forward.

“I’m Marlene Muller. The attending nurse on duty. Can we have a word?”

“Yes, of course.”

The nurse glanced at Jack and gave him an apologetic smile. “In private.” Slade looked back at Jack and then followed the nurse out the door.

Jack waited what seemed to be an eternity. Finally he could stand it no longer and walked out of the small room. He was surprised to not find Slade there. He thought he’d been speaking with the nurse outside. Again Jack waited, paced, prayed, and paced some more until Slade finally returned, white as a ghost.

“What happened? Where were you?”

“The nurse took me up to see her.” Slade slumped down into the chair. “God, she looks bad.”

Jack clutched the sides of the chair, his eyes watering, but he let Slade continue. “The doctor said that the next twenty-four hours are critical. She hit her head real bad. Her face is all scratched up and bruised.”

Slade turned to Jack. “Say something.”

“I think I’m having a heart attack.” Jack clutched his chest; he was drenched in a cold sweat, and his vision tunneled. The pain he felt was unbearable; he felt suffocated by the force of it. Slade crouched down in front of Jack and grabbed his shoulders.

“Breathe, man. In and out. Slowly. Breathe. I need you, man. Chrissy needs you. You need to get your shit together because I can’t do this on my own. What would she need me to do? You know her better than I do. You always have. Please, Jack, pull yourself together.”

Slade was right. He did know her best. He took some calming breaths, his eyes
closed, and silently said another prayer.

Slade stood and left the room; Jack assumed it was Slade’s way of giving him some space to compose himself. A few minutes later, Slade came back with a duffel bag. “Go change. You’re soaked. I had my gym bag with clean clothes in my car.” He handed the bag over to Jack, who went to the nearest bathroom and changed into the dry clothes.

“She’s strong, Slade. She’ll make it. She will. I have too many things to say to her and she can’t … She’ll make it,” Jack said as soon as he reentered the room.

Slade nodded and started for the door, but then he turned around and hugged Jack. Not a half hug or a pat on the shoulder, like men usually do, but a real hug. One that said everything they couldn’t verbalize. When Slade finally walked out, both men’s eyes were moist.

Jack braced himself for a long, torturous wait, but Slade was back fifteen minutes later. “Come on. I explained that you’re family and you need to see her.”

Jack stood and squeezed Slade’s forearm before following him out.

Chrissy lay in a room partitioned with a flimsy curtain. If it hadn’t been for the tubes and the beeps from the equipment—which made him nervous—he’d have thought she was asleep. Her black hair fell around her shoulders, and even bruised, she was beautiful. His Sleeping Beauty. He leaned forward and ran his knuckles along her cheeks. A tear slipped from his eye. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. What I wouldn’t give to be the one here instead of you. I need you to be strong and wake up, okay? I need to tell you that I love you, face-to-face. I need to hear you giggle. I need you to fight with me about something silly. I need you to get Drogo to stop growling at me. I just … need you. Please,” he whispered, tears falling. He didn’t care who heard him or who saw him.

Slade sat on the side of the bed. He wanted to hold her hand, but because of her IV he couldn’t. The doctor walked in and spoke with them about her condition. Chrissy was breathing on her own, though weakly. Ironically, her worst injury was the concussion she’d sustained from hitting the windshield. He told them that they had done all they could; it was up to her to wake up on her own. He and his team didn’t think she was in a coma, but he said that it could take hours, days, or even weeks for Chrissy to wake up.

Both men sat quietly by her bed just watching her breathe. An hour later, the doctor was back, explaining that she needed to be monitored around the clock for the next twenty-four hours. He also added that according to the police, the driver of the pickup truck had lost control due to the rain and hit her car, which was sitting by the side of the road without any lights. The other man was fine and had already been discharged. Jack expected to feel bitterness toward the other driver, but he realized it wasn’t the guy’s fault. It was never safe to be on the side of the road without lights, especially in the rain.
And right now Jack just couldn’t feel anger. There wasn’t room in his heart for it. He simply wanted Chrissy to wake up, so he sat by her side and waited … and waited …

He stood in front of the mirror as he adjusted his black tie. He’d decided on his best black suit and matched it with a crisp white shirt. How his life had changed in the last seventy-two hours.

Slade walked into Jack’s bedroom, also in a black suit and white shirt, but he had opted for no tie.

“What’s up with you?” Slade asked. “You ready to go?”

“No. Not yet.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I still can’t believe everything that’s happened.”

“I know. Tell me about it.”

“With all that’s happened, this is the last place I want to go.”

“I know, but you have to. Just relax. It’s just a small reception in your honor. Chrissy would never forgive you if you missed it. You don’t have to stay long. Brother, you just made the most significant arrest in the history of Tarpon Springs, and you were promoted to lieutenant. You have to go. Chrissy would want you to.”

Jack nodded somberly, and both men left.

The reception was at the Pier. It was just a small group of men from his precinct and their significant others. How he wished Chrissy were there—
his
significant other. Instead, he had brought Slade. Since Jessica was still recovering and therefore wasn’t yet working, the bartender on shift that evening was Jamie Lynn. Slade sat at the bar talking to her, and after Jack made a quick round of the guests, engaging in a little small talk, he sat at one of the high-tops overlooking the ocean. The weather was warm and sticky, as it normally was in Florida. He pulled on his collar, lost in thought as he nursed a beer.

“You’re so broody all the time. Cheer up, Daniels. This is your party, for goodness’ sake.”

Jack swung his head around.

“What are you doing here?” His eyes were wide with concern as he rushed to Chrissy’s side and led her to the closest seat.

“After much begging, Dr. Stevens okayed my discharge a day early. I had to promise that I wouldn’t dance the night away. I wanted to surprise you. It’s a big day—you should celebrate, Lieutenant.”

“Baby, you shouldn’t be here. You should be resting. I felt bad enough leaving
you at the hospital today. You shouldn’t be on your feet.”

“Actually, he said I should start walking more than just around the halls of the hospital. I’m not made of glass; I’ll be fine being here with you for a few hours.”

Jack beamed.

“Aren’t you happy not to have to sleep on that awful hospital room chair-bed thing? Not that you had to stay with me these last few days,” she said to Jack.

“I wasn’t going to leave your side. I wish I’d known you were coming home—I would have set up the spare room downstairs for us.”

Chrissy laughed. “About that. I don’t think—”

Jack covered her mouth with his fingers, “Woman, if you are about to tell me you aren’t staying with me, you’re not staying in Tarpon Springs, or any of that bullshit, I swear to God, I … I … I don’t even know what I’d do. Now that you’re fully recovered, you’re staying with me and that’s it. I’m not putting up with your brother’s need to finally be brotherly again. It was a fight to get him to leave and let me stay with you at the hospital. I can just imagine how difficult he’ll be if I have to stay with you at his house.”

“Yeah, he’s acting strange. Very attentive. What happened? We haven’t even had a chance to talk about the accident. I don’t even know what—”

“We’ll talk later, okay?” He drew her into his arms, and she nodded. “You look breathtaking, by the way.”

Chrissy pulled away and guffawed. “Yeah, with all my cuts and scrapes, not to mention the bruises on my forehead, I’m real attractive,” she said as she touched her head.

“To me you are breathtaking, Chrissy.”

She smiled. Together, they enjoyed the party until Jack insisted he had to get her home.

Less than two hours later, Jack was driving Chrissy home. Slade had decided to stay at the party, since it was far from over, even though the guest of honor had decided to leave.

“We didn’t have to leave so soon, Jack.”

“Yes, we did. You’re still hurting, and you were just released from the hospital. I don’t care what your doctor said—you should be in bed, resting.”

“Really, Jack, I’m fine.”

His hand rested on her thigh, and as he drove them home in silence, his thoughts drifted to the hellish hours Chrissy had lain on that hospital bed. He hadn’t left her side for a second. He’d driven everyone in the hospital crazy asking questions and making
requests to ensure that she was comfortable and that she was receiving the best care possible.

He remembered how he and Slade sat by her side for hours, impatiently waiting. Then, about five hours after the accident, her head slowly turned toward him, her eyes just barely open.

“Chrissy? Baby?” He pushed the Call button as he spoke.

“Jack,” she croaked. “Wh-what happened?”