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“Okay.
”
“The ship was already heading back to base. They stabilized Bryce, and a Naval helicopter crew was going to transport him to the Naval Medical Center.”
“Our parents?”
“The Navy has a transport getting them to the hospital as soon as they land. We’ll probably beat them there. But Nate is with Bryce.”
“Thank God he has someone with him. Poor Nate.” I fall back on the seat and rub my eyes, thinking about how worried my brother must be. “Nate will take care of him.”
The two girls exchange a look, and my head starts to pound. I don’t ask any more questions because their silence says it all. I need to prepare for the worst.
Chapter 32
We find Nate sitting alone in a waiting room when we arrive. He looks up at me, and my already aching heart breaks a little more. He’s in misery. His eyes are dry but rimmed red, and his face is totally pale. When he sees me, he gets up and opens his arms. I rush into him and hug him as tightly as possible. We stay quiet as Quinn joins in, wrapping her arms around us both.
Another set of arms circle my waist, and I recognize the smell of Jamie’s perfume. She nudges her head onto Nate’s shoulder, and I swallow hard to hold back my tears.
We break apart, Jamie supporting Nate and Quinn taking me.
“How is he?”
“Stable for now. He scared the shit out of me on the helicopter, but they pulled him through. The second we landed, they took him back, and no word since.”
“What do you mean, pulled him through?” I start to panic.
“Dev, he’s unconscious and hasn’t woken up since the explosion. We know for sure he has a broken clavicle and deep lacerations on his body. There are some burns and possible internal injuries. What the doctors seem worried about is the blow to his neck and head. His lack of consciousness may mean a brain injury.”
“Oh, God.” My knees buckle, and Morgan immediately catches me, placing me in a chair.
“Tell me what happened.”
“Can we wait for Dave and Sheila and Mom and Dad? I prefer not to repeat the story more than I have to.”
My chest aches, and breathing becomes difficult. Crystal hands me a cup of water and sits down, gripping my free hand. We all sit in silence, lost in our own thoughts. I can see the pain written all over Nate’s face. Our eyes meet for a brief second, and he looks away, wiping his eye.
“Family of Bryce Randolph?” A soft voice calls from the doorway, and I jump up. Nate does the same.
“Yes,” we say.
“I’m sorry. I was looking for his parents.”
“They’re on the way. We’re his local family,” Nate tells her.
“Are you—?”
“His brother and his fiancée,” Nate cuts her off.
She looks at her chart and then back to us. “Nate and Devon?”
“Yes,” I answer.
She nods and motions with her head to the hallway. We follow her closely, Nate holding my elbow for support.
“I know he’s not your brother,” she looks at Nate, “but you are listed on the emergency paperwork. The doctors have him stable and comfortable. As suspected, there is indication of a brain injury, but no idea how critical because of swelling and bleeding. He’s being prepped for surgery, where they will drain some of the fluid surrounding the brain. This will help determine how serious the damage is.”
“Oh, God,” I gasp, her words clogging my mind.
