“I’m sorry, what was that name?”
“Carver,” I repeated, spelling it out for him.
His fingers flew over the keyboard in front of him. “Okay, let’s see. Ah, here we go.” Then he frowned. “Are you family?”
“No, I—”
“Then I’m sorry, I can’t give you any information on the patient.”
I inhaled, then exhaled. This so wasn’t helping. “I don’t want information. I want to find his room so I can visit with him.”
Aaron’s eyebrows went up. “Excuse me,sir,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension, “but we don’t allow nonfamily members to visit patients in the ICU.”
Intensive Care Unit? But Clay hadn’t said that. He told me Charlie would be fine. My breaths started coming faster, harsher. My eyes blurred, and it seemed like the room was spinning. Voices around me were garbled—nothing made sense. I reached for my phone, but couldn’t make out any of the buttons because my hands were shaking so hard. When someone grabbed me, I cried out and dropped to the floor, pulling my legs up and wrapping my arms around myself in a vain hope of protection.
Warm hands touched my face, but this time I had no strength to fight back. I’d tried and failed, and it had all fallen apart. I lay on the ground, sobbing, until a voice cut through the buzzing in my head.
“Matt? Matt!”
Someone picked me up and pulled me to their body. Warmth. Safety. I could feel myself being moved. Then, blessed silence. Someone held me, rocked me as they crooned a familiar song. It took me a few moments to recognize “All the Pretty Little Horses.” It was a song our mom used to sing to me and Clay when we were kids.
“You with me?”
The voice tugged at me, and I looked up into the gray eyes so very much like my own. “Clay…,” I croaked.
He had a watery smile, though I could see the anger in his eyes. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” he groused. “How the hell did you even get here? You better not have walked, or so help me God, I will kick your ass.”
I swallowed hard. My throat hurt and my tongue felt swollen. “Wanted to see Charlie,” I whispered. “Didn’t know he was in ICU, and they won’t let me in.”
“In the… who the hell told you that?” he demanded.
“Guy at the desk said only family could get into the ICU. Why didn’t you tell me? He’s going to die, isn’t he?”
“Son of a….” Clay pulled my face so close to his I could smell spearmint on his breath. “Listen to me, Matt. Charlie is most definitelynotin the ICU. When you calm down, we can go see him together, okay?”
“But he said—”
“He was wrong. I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that. Charlie is hurting, but he’s not dying.”
The tears wouldn’t stop. I had visions of Charlie laid out in the morgue, and my heart broke. Clay went back to singing the song, nearly rocking me. It helped me to get my breathing under control.
“How did you get here, Matt?” Clay asked sharply, drawing my attention back to him.
I blinked, then wiped my thumb and forefinger over my eyes. “I took a cab.”
“You left your house, got in a cab, and came here just so you could see Charlie?” I nodded, and Clay pulled me in for a bear hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, kissing my forehead. “I know he’s going to be thrilled to find out you’re here.”
Clay helped me to my feet, then wrapped his arm around my shoulder and held me close as we made our way to the elevators. It took three tries before we found one that didn’t have too many people on it. We got in, Clay never loosening his grip, which I appreciated. We walked down the hall, passed by the nurse’s station, and entered a room. I found myself equal parts relieved and horrified by the way Charlie looked. His face had bruises that were barely visible under the reddened skin. His leg had a bright blue wrap around it and had been slightly elevated. His hospital gown hung open, his bare chest on display, allowing me to see where he’d hit with enough force to bruise. What hurt the most was seeing his left hand in a cast. I couldn’t imagine a writer not having the use of one of his hands.
“He’s been asleep for a while. He’s been given some meds to help with that,” Clay whispered. “I need to file a report about the accident and make a few phone calls. I had been on my way down to get some information when they called about a disturbance. Didn’t know it was you. How about if you sit with him while I go take care of this stuff? I’ll stop and talk to the nurses and ask them to hold off on coming in here for now. Will that work?”
I nodded, not taking my eyes off Charlie. My lungs ached less, seeing him with my own eyes. Clay directed me to the chair near the bed and helped me to sit down.
“Will you be okay if I’m gone for thirty minutes?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He leaned close, brushing back my hair, and once again laid a kiss on my forehead. “So proud of you, you just don’t know.”
