Page 41 of A Burning Rage

“Your husband is in recovery,” Dr. Markowski informs me. “We had to give him two more units of blood during surgery, but we stopped the internal bleeding caused by a nick to a vein. I’m afraid we couldn’t save his spleen. The damage was too extensive, but fortunately, that was the only organ damaged. He was very lucky in that regard. Right now he’s holding his own. We’ll just wait and see how he’s doing.”

“Will he be okay without his spleen?” I ask.

She nods. “He can survive without a spleen. He’ll need to watch for future infections, but that’s manageable. You don’t need to worry about that.”

My heart lodges in my throat, nearly cutting off my air. I can barely get out the words. “Please, can I see him?” I need to lay eyes on him and see for myself that he’s alive.

“You can see him for a few minutes. Keep in mind, he’s still sedated. We’re going to keep him that way until we know he’s out of the woods.”

“Is he going to be okay?” Cooper asks, his own voice rough with emotion.

Dr. Markowski looks from Cooper to me, then back to Cooper. “I’m afraid it’s still too early to tell. Right now, we’re concerned about the risk of infection.”

He’s alive.

That’s what I needed to hear.

Shane is alive.

“I’ll take you to him,” the doctor says. “This way.”

Cooper accompanies me as I follow Dr. Markowski to the recovery unit. She leads us into a private room, where Shane lies utterly still on a bed surrounded by electronic equipment that is beeping and whirring as it monitors practically every major function of his body. There are sensors attached to his bare chest. The bandages wrapped around his torso peek out from underneath the sheet covering him.

I stop dead in my tracks when I near the bed, shocked to see how sickly pale he is. Slowly, I approach the side of the bed, wanting to get closer. His arms are lying at his sides. There’s a blood pressure cuff on his right arm, and there’s an IV line going into the back of his left hand. A small device is clipped to the end of a finger on his left hand.

“What’s in the IV?” I ask.

“A sedative and some pain medication,” she answers. “Plus, fluids.”

Instinctively, I start to reach with one hand, but I freeze. “Can I touch him?”

When Dr. Markowski nods, I gently lay my hand on his forehead and lean close to whisper, “I’m here, Shane. I’m right here.”

My eyes sting as tears form. I can’t help it. He’s here, right in front of me. He’s alive, and I can touch him.

My throat is so tight it hurts to speak. “You kept your promise,” I say to my husband. “You didn’t let Andrew hurt me. And we don’t have to worry about him ever again. He’s dead. But now I need you to make me another promise, okay? Promise you won’t leave me. Please, Shane. I need you. I know you’re strong. Be strong for me.”

My knees give out then, and when I drop, I find myself landing on a chair, Cooper right beside me. His eyes are on Shane, though, and he looks as bleak as I feel.

I’m not the only one suffering here. Cooper is hurting as much as I am. He and Shane have been as close as brothers for years, since their time together in the Marine Corps. They left the military and started McIntyre Security together.

Cooper clears his throat as he reaches down to grip Shane’s bare shoulder. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Shane,” he says in a gravelly voice. “Sam and I will hold down the fort until you come home. We’ll take care of Beth and the kids. You just focus on getting better.”

Dr. Markowski steps forward. “Mrs. McIntyre—”

“I’m not leaving,” I say, my voice suddenly sharp. I spare her a quick glance. “I’m not leaving my husband’s side until I know he’s going to be okay.”

Wild horses couldn’t drag me from this room.

Dr. Markowski nods. “I’ll be back shortly to check on him.” She gestures to the machines beeping quietly. “We’ll be monitoring his vitals. If there’s a problem, we’ll know.”

After the doctor leaves, I pull my chair closer to the bed and gently reach for Shane’s right hand.

Cooper lays his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll go update everyone in the waiting room. I’ll also bring you some water and something to eat.”

As he turns toward the door, I grab his hand. “Would you ask someone to bring me my breast pump from home? It’s in my bathroom cupboard. I’ll need to keep pumping while I’m here so my milk production doesn’t stop. Ava can have the stored milk in the freezer at home. There’s enough to last her quite a while.”

Cooper frowns. “I assumed you’d go home tonight to sleep. You need your rest. The kids—”