Waiting Fate (17 page)

She frowned. “Everywhere?” She wasn’t sure what he wanted, since she couldn’t pinpoint one place that hurt any worse or any less than anywhere else.

“My foot. My foot and my hip and my thumb.”

“We might have to cut your shirt. Is that okay?” the woman asked. “I tried to save it, but we can’t check you for injuries, and we can’t pull it over your head.”

Ivy started to nod, thought better of it, and said, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“You’ve got seatbelt burns here,” the man on her right said as she felt the cold steel of the scissors against her skin. She resisted the urge to swear — this was her favorite shirt. And then she felt herself blush, because she was shirtless in an ambulance full of people, most of whom she couldn’t even see.

“Yeah, you’ve got several nasty seatbelt burns. I think your shirt was ruined anyway with the blood.”

She started to shiver violently, her teeth chattering together. “She’s going into shock,” the woman said. “Get the blanket.”

“No-no-no, I — I’m j-just cold.” Her teeth were chattering so hard now that it was making her entire head ache.

“This blanket is warm. It will help.”

“You know, most girls who don’t like their car just trade it in. Just sayin’,” the man on her right said with a grin. She blinked at him, unsure what else to do.

“Yeah, you give a whole new meaning to the phrase “traffic-stopping.”

They were teasing her. Were they supposed to be teasing her? Was she supposed to want to giggle? This was not how it was in the movies at all.

“How ya feeling? Any warmer?”

“Y-y-es,” she lied.

“Good girl.” And they went back to teasing her. But despite their attempts, she lost consciousness again before they reached the hospital and woke up in a room, surrounded by doctors and nurses.

“Ivy, is there someone we can call for you?”

“My dad. Please call my dad. But tell him not to tell my mom,” Ivy whispered.

“Is the number in your phone contacts?” a nurse with white hair in a green mask asked, and out of the corner of her eye, Ivy could just see her purse, sitting on the counter. The nurse dug through it, and Ivy ran through the contents in her mind, hoping there wasn’t anything embarrassing.

“Got it,” the woman said, and by the way her eyes crinkled, Ivy could tell she was smiling. “Mr. Bleu, this is Kay calling from McKay Dee Hospital…”

Her voice trailed off as Ivy felt the blackness creeping in the sides of her vision again. The doctor must have seen the panic in her face as he peered into both eyes with a flashlight. “Get an oxygen mask on her and order x-rays of her chest and head ASAP.”

“My foot.” Ivy sounded like a half-dead frog. “My foot hurts a lot.”

“Okay, Ivy. First we’ll do these others so we can rule out some dangerous things, and then we’ll check the rest of you.”

“Okay,” Ivy said meekly, and then she was out again, but this time for just a second. When they hefted her from one bed to another and wheeled her down the hall, she woke up again.

“Try not to move, honey. Are you warm enough?”

“Yes,” Ivy answered. She felt small and scared and not warm at all; in fact, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again.
Desee. Please let me go home to Desee.

“You have a pretty serious concussion, but no bleeding, and no lung damage. Serious whiplash, but that’s to be expected when you’re hit head-on by someone going seventy miles per hour. You’ll need stitches on your right foot, and we’re sending you to x-ray for your left foot and leg and your left thumb.”

“My right foot? What’s wrong with my right foot?” Ivy asked. She didn’t feel like she was on the verge of passing out anymore, which was a step in the right direction, but she hadn’t noticed pain in her right foot at all, which seemed rather odd.

“You almost lost your pinkie toe. But we’ll get it all fixed up.”
Ah. So that’s why everyone always says don’t drive in flip-flops.

This time they put her in a wheelchair, so she could see where she was going at least. Her right foot was bandaged so she couldn’t see the icky toe, but now that he had brought it to her attention, she could definitely feel it. Her left foot was swollen and ugly, and Ivy had the random thought that she was glad it wasn’t flip-flop season, even though she had indeed been wearing flip-flops.

Technicalities.

The lady doing the foot x-rays was not as nice as everyone else had been so far, and she made Ivy stand on her incredibly sore feet to do the x-rays. Ivy was fighting tears, biting her lip so hard she could taste blood.

“We’re all done here. I’ll find the tech to take you back to your room,” the woman said, leaving Ivy to make her own way to her wheelchair. The tech swung the door to the hallway open, and Ivy squinted against the bright light. Something moved, blocking it, and when Ivy opened her eyes again, her mom stood there, silhouetted like an angel.

“Ivy!” she cried.

“Mom?” Ivy had been pretty tough so far. She hadn’t cried once. But now she sobbed like a baby as her mom helped her into her wheelchair. “I told them not to tell you,” Ivy said, but she still had a neck brace on and couldn’t turn her head to see Bev’s face.

“Well, they didn’t listen. Anyway, did you think I didn’t know something was happening when a stranger called to tell me you couldn’t pick Desee up?”

“Oh.”
Duh
. Well, in her defense, she had just been in an accident and hadn’t been thinking clearly.

Jack waited in her room, his eyes red-rimmed as he leaned on one hip against the bed. “Hi Dad.” Ivy waved a little.

“You. You have always been a troublemaker.” He shook his head, but there were grateful tears in his eyes.

“Sorry about that.” Ivy tried her best to sound sarcastic, trying to tease him, trying to make him feel better. Between Ivy, the nurse, and her parents, they managed to get her back into bed without an extreme amount of pain. “Can I go home now?”

“We have to wait and see what the doctor says. He’ll be in with your x-rays soon. Just try to rest,” the nurse said, patting her gently as she pulled warm blankets over Ivy’s still shaking body. Her dad, bless him, tried to keep her mind occupied by telling her about all the times he’d ever been in the hospital — and there were a lot.

When the doctor came in, Ivy felt fine and just wanted to go home. Never mind the IV connected to her right arm that had something to help her feel better.

“There are a few small broken bones in your left foot, here and here,” the doctor said, showing her the x-rays he put up against the machine. “We’ll set them and put you in a boot. Your left thumb is also broken, as is your right pinkie toe.”

“Can I go home?” Ivy asked stupidly. She knew the answer. She’d been in the hospital enough to know what kind of injuries kept you there overnight. But one could always hope.

“I’m afraid not. We’ll keep you overnight for observation. The injuries to your feet and legs aren’t too severe, but your concussion might be. If everything looks good in the morning, you can go home then.”

Overnight. In a hospital. By herself. Memories nearly overwhelmed her, and the monitor showing her blood pressure and heart rate started beeping. The doctor looked alarmed. “I think your system is still fighting shock. Let’s up your dosage of this and see if we can make you a little more comfortable.”

“Do you have a couch or something we can sleep on?” Bev asked as Ivy felt the medicine burn into her arm and then started to relax, but the room looked a little wavy and strange, too.

“Of course.”

“No, Mom. What about Deshee?” Ivy interrupted, amused that her words were slurring.

“She’s with Kim.” Bev looked at her like she had two heads, which was fair, because Bev herself was starting to look like she had two heads. Ivy blinked.
That can’t be right
.

“Yeah, but she’ll be scared if she’s not in her bed. You need to go home.”

“Then I’ll stay,” Jack said.

“You have to have your oxygen at night, Dad. How come I’m the injured, drugged one, and I’m the only one being reasonable here?” Although she hated to say it, Ivy forced herself anyway. “I’ll be fine. Just take good care of my baby.” When it looked like they were both going to object, she resorted to begging. “Please? Please take care of my baby.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Hey, we’re hanging at Jay’s tonight if you want to take a break,” Austin said. Archer held the phone away from his head. To hear himself speak over the background noise at Jay’s, Austin had to yell.

“I don’t think so,” Archer said. He’d just gotten home from work, after having to take a three-mile detour because of an accident on the main highway. He was tired and dirty and ornery.

“She’s not here,” Austin said, more quietly this time as the background noise faded.

Archer sighed, kicking off his boots and watching in satisfaction as they slammed into the wall. It made him happy to hurl things lately. “I’m not in the mood for Jay and Gunner’s stupid humor.”

“They’re both annoyed about something, so their stupid humor is MIA tonight. We’re just watching a movie. Ya gotta save me, Archer.” Archer knew full well that Austin didn’t need saving. He was just trying to get Archer out of the house and away from work, something he’d been trying — and failing at — for weeks now.

Archer sighed. He did miss his best friend. It might be good for him. “Fine. I’ll just shower and be on my way.”

****

The second he walked in the door, he could feel the tension. Jay and Gunner were on their feet when he came around the corner into the living room. Austin, who’d opened the door for Archer and followed him back, paused. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Archer’s hands instinctively clenched into fists. “Nice of you to show up, Archer. You got another girl you’re hiding from us, or is it just the one we agreed none of us would go near?” Gunner snapped. He was usually laid-back. But his shoulders were tight and his face was red. Archer couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen him so angry.

“What are you talking about?” Archer growled.

“We know about you and Ivy.” Jay crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you serious with this?” Austin asked, edging between Archer and the other two. “He and Ivy aren’t together. They aren’t even on speaking terms.”

“What business is it of yours whether I’m with Ivy or not?” Archer exploded. He’d been hurting for several weeks now, with nothing but electrical wires and tools to take it out on. It felt good to yell.

“We made a pact! Remember Max? No? That’s because he did the same thing you just did, and we left him behind.” Gunner yelled back.

Jay seemed content to stand like a hired thug behind Gunner, glaring, but letting Gunner do the talking.

“We made a pact in high school. Seven years ago,” Archer said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t recall putting an expiration date on that pact,” Gunner said. Sarcasm wasn’t something that came naturally to him, and it sounded awkward coming off his lips. The fact that they were fighting over Ivy when she wanted nothing to do with him was not lost on Archer, but he wanted a fight. He wanted something to throw his pain at.

“She’s a grown woman, Gunner. She’s going to choose who she wants to be with,” Austin cut in. “Look. Gunner, we know how you feel about her. Everyone knows how you feel about her. And Jay, what were you thinking, man? Seriously telling her to go back to her husband—”

“You did what?” Archer bellowed, lunging, but Austin caught him and pushed him back, continuing as if Archer hadn’t moved. “We know you like her more than you should. But come on, Ivy’s been through enough. If you both love her as much as you think you do, shouldn’t you want her to be with the one who will make her happy?”

Gunner and Jay just glared silently at him, and Archer’s shoulders fell, defeated.
He
wasn’t the one who could make her happy. He’d lost her before he’d ever had the chance to make her happy. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Jay opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang. “Hello. Hey, Gigi. What’s up?” His thick eyebrows shot up, and he turned to face the rest of them, holding his phone away from his mouth. “Ivy was in a car accident.”

Archer felt like someone had hit him in the head with an iceberg. “What?” he gasped.

Jay clicked his phone onto speaker. “She’s in the hospital.” Gigi sounded more morose than usual, all the light and bounciness gone from her voice.

“Are you up there now?” Austin asked.

“No, I’m at a swim meet. I called her house because she wasn’t answering her phone and her dad told me.”

“Was Desee in the car with her?” Archer’s voice sounded strangled and unfamiliar, even to his own ears.

“I don’t think so, because I could hear her in the background when I was talking to Jack,” Gigi said.

Without another word, Archer spun on his heel and ran to his truck.

****

“Ivy Bleu… er… Walken? Please?” he asked the nurse at the front desk, sounding more like a desperate and afraid child than he had ever sounded when he had been an actual child.

The woman was probably a volunteer, older with white hair and a wrinkled face. She clicked away at her computer before turning to smile at him, her age melting away as she did. “Room 327.” She motioned in the direction of the elevators, and Archer raced toward them, slipping into one just as the doors shut.

The entire drive up to the hospital, Ivy’s name had been the only thing he could think, over and over, like a song stuck on repeat. Austin had called to tell him the details that Gigi had gotten from Ivy’s parents, but they were all going to wait until she was home to visit. Except Jay, who wanted nothing to do with her.

But Archer didn’t care about any of that. As the doors opened to the third floor, he burst out like a match set to gasoline, and then had to force himself not to sprint through the hallways. Her door was open a crack and the doctor was just coming out. “Is this Ivy Bleu’s — I — I mean Ivy Walken’s room?” Archer asked, hating the way his voice sounded strangled and weak.

“Yes, go on in. She hasn’t had many visitors.” Archer pushed the door open, but after all his racing to get here, he hesitated. What if she didn’t want to see him?