RidingtheWaves (13 page)

“And I suppose you were thinking about
me
while you
were fucking Willow?”

“If you weren’t so damn fragile none of this would have
happened.”

“So it’s my fault?” In a final attempt to break away, she
dug her nails into his hands and pried. His palms slackened for an instant
before he clamped so tightly the pain forced her legs to buckle and she
hunkered forward. “Damn you, Jared,” she squeaked.

In that instant, her cell phone rang.
Brent!

She raised her leg and kneed Jared square in the balls.

“Ahhh,” he screeched, grabbing his crotch. He dropped to the
floor, pulling his legs to his chest. “Damn you, Annalee. You didn’t have to do
that,” he wailed through clenched teeth.

“Then leave your hands off me,” she warned while trotting
toward the coffee table to answer the call. She grabbed the cell and slid the
bar to unlock it without looking at the incoming number. “Hello?”

“Annalee?”

“Brody?” Her breath caught and tummy vaulted in a bad way
from the proper use of her name. She avoided the slight throb still ticking
deep inside her shoulders and sat down on the couch. “What is it? Where’s
Brent?”

“He’s in the hospital.”

She jumped to her feet. “Why? What happened?”

“He’s been shot.”

Oh no. No. Please, God, no.
“What hospital? Is he
okay?”

“He’s back in Seattle. They transferred him near my mom and
dad this morning.”

“Is he…” She slapped a hand across her mouth.

“No,” Brody replied quickly. “The bullet nicked an artery in
his thigh and he lost a lot of blood, but this morning, thank God, they
upgraded his condition to critical but stable.”

Meaning he still had a good chance of dying. Oh Jesus. Oh
Lord. “When did it happen? Why didn’t you contact me sooner?”

“Last night. They rushed him into surgery immediately. No
one contacted us right away either. We received the call at five o’clock this
morning.”

They’d waited sixteen hours to notify her! She lodged a hand
in her hair above her bangs. “You know how I feel about him, Brody.”

“I know. I know, sweetheart. And I apologize.” He sighed
heavily into the receiver. “Brent wouldn’t want you seeing him like this, but,”
he paused, “I’ve seen the look in your eyes when you gaze at him. I figured the
decision to call you may get me pulverized, but I talked it over with my mom
and dad and we decided it best to tell you what happened.”

Tears filled her eyes but she couldn’t determine whether
they signified relief or fear. “What should I do?”
First of all, calm down.
“I’m
flying to Seattle. Will you pick me up at the airport?”

“You know I will. Call me after you make flight
arrangements.”

“I will,” she said and hung up the phone. She glanced at
Jared. He’d sat up on his knees but he still had his hand cupped over his
balls, and his face was contorted in pain. “Jared, I have a plane to catch. You
need to leave.
And
if you ever come here again, I’ll call the police and have you arrested.
”

* * * * *

Brody handed Annalee a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch
beside her. During the entire flight she was a nervous wreck, but it held no
comparison to sitting in the hospital waiting area, awaiting her turn to visit
Brent. Her leg shook nonstop and her heartbeat thumped rapidly to the point she
couldn’t determine when one beat stopped and the next started.

Mr. Whiltby told her to take all the time off she needed and
treated it as a personal leave of absence since the event didn’t qualify for
FMLA. Someone seriously needed to amend the rules to provide an employee time
off to nurse a lover back to health.

She constantly glanced from the closed ICU door to an
elderly woman sitting behind a desk.

“He’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Brody said, covering her hand
with his. “He’s holding his own, but don’t freak when you see him.”

Biting on her lip, she nodded. “It happened on the
assignment, right?”

“Yeah. His partner wasn’t as fortunate. They blew his brains
out. Sorry for my choice words.”

“It’s okay.”
Not really.
She wanted to vomit.

“They think the intent was to capture Brent, because they
pistol-whipped him when they could have shot him at pointblank range too.”

Her eyes widened and heartbeat skidded to a stop. “Oh my
God. Pistol-whipped?”
Could have shot him at pointblank range?
What
would they have done if they captured him? Torture him as they had tortured
Captain Kobby? It’d been months and he still refused to disclose details of the
torment they’d inflicted. The poor man had been badly beaten. Really badly, and
barely recognizable.

She leaned into the back of the couch, plopped her head down
and faced the ceiling. “Did they at least arrest the man they were chasing?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

Not a reassuring answer. “I’m so sorry, Brody. I couldn’t
talk Brent out of going.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” He leaned back too.
“Remember, neither could I.”

“But I didn’t try.” A lump formed in her throat and her eyes
burned. “When he explained why he had to do this, I just couldn’t push the
issue any further.”

“Hey, I’m an idiot for even asking. I know my brother and
once his mind is made up, no one can change it. I was feeling a little
desperate when I asked for your help.”

She flashed him a subtle smile. “He is a determined man,
isn’t he?”

“You have no idea.”

Oh yes I do.

The ICU door buzzed open and a man and woman entered the
area. Brody stood. Annalee had absolutely no doubts they were his parents. The
gentleman, who stood level with Brody, carried himself just as confidently.
Although his hair was cut short around his ears and he had frown lines on the
outside of his eyes and in between his brows, he could have passed as a third
brother. Brent definitely got his dark, emotional eyes from his father.

“How’s he doing?” Brody asked.

“Honey, he’s the same,” the woman responded. She rubbed the
backside of her fingers along Brody’s cheek. She was beautiful. Long, dark hair
and slender build. She looked the same height as Annalee—around five-foot-five.
And her gorgeous, grayish-blue eyes encased by thick black lashes were
identical to Brody’s. “Why don’t you go home and get some sleep, honey? He’s
going to be in a coma for a while.”

Coma?

Brody looked over his shoulder and reached for Annalee. She
stood up and took his hand. “Mom, Dad, meet Annalee Parschen. Sweetheart,” he
nudged his head at his mother and father, “my parents.”

Annalee shook the gentleman’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you,
sir.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He brought her hand to his lips and
kissed her fingers. Wow, she knew where both sons inherited their mannerisms.
“Please, call me Seth.”

After he released her, Mrs. Delaney held both of Annalee’s
hands and gazed adoringly at her face. “I sure understand why…” her voice
trailed off with a sigh.

Huh?
Annalee smiled shyly. “I’m sorry?”

“I know why my son chose to stay in Ohio rather than come
home,” she finished. “You’re everything he’d said you’d be.”

Brent had actually informed his parents about her? “We’ve
known each other for a long time.”

All three chimed, “I know,” in unison.

Annalee laughed. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh my goodness. That makes me sound old. Call me Sherry.
Please.” She stepped forward and gave Annalee a motherly hug. “I know you’re
waiting to see Brent, go on back. If he hears your voice it may speed his
recovery.”

“Can he hear people talking?”

“The nurses believe so. We’re treating him as though he
can.”

Tears filled Annalee’s eyes. “Do they have any idea how long
he’ll be in the coma?”

Mrs. Delaney released her, took a step back and placed her
hands on Annalee’s shoulders. “It’s drug-induced. The doctors will bring him
out of it when the brain swelling goes down.”

Brain swelling? Her tummy jumped. His condition was worse
than she’d thought and his pain suddenly became her pain. The tears let loose
and slid down her cheeks. “I’d like to see him now. Please excuse me.”

After the woman at the desk buzzed open the door she led
Annalee down a white, sterile corridor and stopped at doorway number five. A
metal plate hung on the wall beside the door with Brent’s name written on it in
black marker.

Nurses darted in and out of rooms. The few who’d caught
Annalee’s attention smiled in passing.

“Thank you,” she said to her escort. Drawing a deep breath,
she stiffened her shoulders, walked into the room and halted when she glanced
at the bed.

Brent lay covered by a white sheet except for his left leg,
which was wrapped in gauze above his knee. A bandage was taped on his forehead
near his left brow and the side of his face was partially swollen.
Pistol-whipped
.
Her stomach flipped and fresh tears pooled in her eyes. She blinked until the
water disappeared, only to discover numerous wires stretched from a heart
monitor to the underside of the sheet. An IV pole stood beside it. Three bags
of clear fluid hung from individual hooks but they were connected to one tube
that’d been inserted into a thick vein on his wrist. He didn’t look as bad as
she’d envisioned but his condition still brought forth a gasp and feelings of
dread. To see him so helpless was a jarring awakening.

Quickly she approached the bed, her boot heels clicking
against the tile floor. For a long moment she stared at his handsome face.
Despite the injuries, his features looked relaxed and peaceful. She leaned
forward and gently kissed his lips. “Hi,” she said. “Can you hear me?” His eyes
roamed beneath his lids and the heart monitor beeped.

She sat down on the vinyl chair, scooted close to the bed
and took his hand in between both of hers. Gently she lifted it to her face and
rubbed it along her cheek. “You have to get well, Brent. You came back after
all these years. You can’t leave me now. We still have so much to talk about
and do.”

She pressed her lips into the backside of his fingers. They
were so warm and they filled her with a brief moment of comfort. “You’re
tugging on my emotions, mister. You excite my heart and light up my insides
just by looking into your eyes. I’ve never felt like this before.” She sighed.
“Please come back to me.”

A soft knock preceded the door opening. She glanced over her
shoulder just as Brody stuck his head into the room. “Is it okay if I come in?”

She reached for him. “Yes. Absolutely.”

He walked to the bed, pulled up a chair and took hold of her
outstretched hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yeah.” He sat down. “You know,” he glanced from her to
Brent, roaming his eyes over his brother’s body, “it’s difficult seeing him
like this. He’d covered my back our entire lives. Now look, he’s broken and I
can’t fix him. I should’ve been there, Annalee. I shouldn’t have let him go
alone.”

“Brody, don’t.” She removed her hand from his and lifted his
chin. His eyes were glossed over by tears. “Don’t do this to yourself. We’re
all dealing with a little bit of guilt right now but we can’t let it consume
us. We have to stay positive, otherwise we’ll drive ourselves insane.”

“You’re right.” His eyes brightened when he offered a faint
smile. “My mom invited you to stay at the house.”

“I’m not sure I can do that.”

He laughed. “This is coming from the woman who wouldn’t take
no for an answer when inviting me to bunk at her place. Isn’t that something a
hypocrite would do?”

She released his chin and softly backhanded him in the
chest. “Fine.” Now she fully understood his awkwardness at that time. It wasn’t
a pleasant feeling in the least. “You must have told her about my
out of
this world
cooking skills.”

He scrunched his nose and grinned. “Yep, that’s it. I’ve
missed those gourmet meals and told her you’d do all the cooking.”

Just then her cell phone rang. “Shit. Am I going to get in
trouble for having my phone on?”

Brody did a quick visual sweep of the room. “There’s no
signs posted. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”

She pulled it from the bottom of her purse and pressed the
phone symbol. “Hi, Mom. I can’t talk. I’m at the hospital with Brent. I’ll call
you back when I leave.”

“Annalee, Grandma had a heart attack,” her mom exclaimed,
her voice shaken and anxious.

Annalee’s eyes widened. “Is she okay?” She glanced at Brody
and cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “My grandma had a heart attack.”

Her mom sniffled. “We don’t know. She’s being admitted to
the Lexington Heart Clinic but she doesn’t look good. I’m afraid she’s going to
die, Annalee. I can feel it.”

A lump formed in Annalee’s throat. “I’ll schedule a flight
right now and get there as soon as I can. Give Grandma a kiss,” her voice
cracked as tears dripped from her lashes, “and tell her I love her. I love you
too, Mom,” she squeaked, holding back a sob. She disconnected the call and
squeezed the cell phone in her palm.

Oh no.

Grandma.

And Brent.

How could she be both places at once? It wasn’t fair. Life
was not fair. “Brody, what am I going to do? I don’t want to leave Brent, but I
need to visit my grandmother. My mom thinks she’s going to die. What if she’s
right?”
Don’t die, Grandma. Please don’t die.
“She’s freaking. Mom never
freaks,” she rambled. “She’s our rock. When things are bad I call just to hear
her voice. It gives me strength.” And it worked every time. “I have to be
strong for her now. She’s falling apart. How can I stop her heart from
breaking?” she continued to rattle. “Why do bad things always happen at once? I
can’t—”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” Brody pulled her into his arms and
soothed her back. The comforting embrace was so similar to Brent’s her breath
caught. “Breathe. That’s it,” he continued. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of
Brent.”