Hard Beat

My body crashes into the corner where the walls meet, my arm flying out and knocking over something on the bed tray that clatters loudly to the ground, causing the doctor to drop his clipboard and run to get between us. But there’s no need. Absolutely none.

I’m not the kind of guy who takes a punch without scrambling back up and landing a few myself. No one coldcocks me and walks away unscathed. And yet right now, I have absolutely no fight left in me. It’s not just the pain radiating in my already scrambled brain, but the fact that I deserve a whole helluva lot more than one punch because just like I don’t let anyone coldcock me and walk away; I also don’t sleep with someone’s wife. That’s not the type of guy I am.

But fuck, man… I didn’t know. I did not know. And I still fucking love her. How is that even possible?

I rest my head against the wall for a moment with my hands pressed on either side of it, the doctor and John at my back, to try and gain my bearings. I feel like I’m drunk and am trying to get the room to stop spinning out of control around me.

I need to leave, know I need to go, but can’t bring myself to walk away from her just yet. “Is she going to be okay?” My voice doesn’t even sound like mine, but I need to know the answer before I walk away and sort the shit out in my head that’s throbbing like a motherfucker right now. It’s rivaled only by the ache in my heart.

“Not your business, now is it?” John says as I turn to face him. The doctor stands between us in the small space at the same time security arrives in the room. “He needs to leave,” he tells the guards as the doctor takes my arm. I shrug out of his grip, my only show of resistance.

For a moment when I start to walk from the room, John and I are shoulder to shoulder, emotions raw and tempers escalating on both sides. I pause to contemplate their relationship for a second. Shit, I didn’t even know there was a relationship, but I speak the one thing I know deep down for certain. “You don’t deserve her.”

I may not have thrown a punch, and I may be one hundred percent in the wrong since I’m the one sleeping with his wife, but fuck me, I know he doesn’t deserve her. The Beaux I know would cheat on her husband only if the situation was bad, if she had reasons.

And now I just need to wait until she’s recovered and stronger to find out what those reasons are.

Chapter 23

“C

an I get you anything?”

I look up at the sound of the voice, surprised to find the petite nurse from the ICU station peeking her head into the waiting room. Glancing around, I notice there is no one else in here and realize she’s speaking to me. “Not unless you can tell me how she’s doing,” I murmur. The clock on the wall tells me that I’ve been sitting here for six hours without a single person talking to me except for my family via cell phone. I’m the pariah, the asshole who slept with a married man’s woman, and now I’m banned from the third floor with no hope of getting another glimpse of Beaux.

Without returning my eyes to the nurse, I sink back in my seat because every other person I’ve asked this question has left and never come back. I lean my head against the wall and scrub a hand over my jaw, surprised when I hear the chair next to me scrape across the floor as she moves it. I snap my head forward, my hope building that I might get some kind of answer here.

She stares in silence with sympathetic eyes that flicker toward the door every few seconds before she starts. “I could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out I’m giving you this information,” she says, emphasizing how much she’s risking by being here. All I can do is nod. “Ms. Croslyn is stable. She had some swelling of her brain due to her proximity and the force of the blast. After the medical team successfully stopped the swelling, they were able to determine that she has what is called a diffuse axonal brain injury.” She pauses momentarily because yes, I knew coming here that Beaux had a head injury, but hearing the technical term scares the crap out of me, and without my computer open so that I can Google it and see all of the details, I need more.

“What does that mean?” I plead for more information even when she’s giving me more than anyone has thus far.

“Once she arrived here, the neurologists were able to do some more intensive testing and believe she’s incurred a stage one injury, which is the least worrisome of them —”

My audible exhale cuts her off, the pressure in my chest abates some, so that I lean forward, elbows on my knees and head in my hands as I try to rein in the rush of emotion that thunders through me like a freight train. And the nurse hasn’t even explained what an axonal whatever it is called means, but that it’s stage one is enough for me to hold on to until I can look it up myself.

“Now please remember that it’s still a brain injury. Until she wakes up, we won’t know the extent or if there will be any long-term damage, but compared to some of the injuries that we see here from the same scenario, I’d say luck seems to be on her side.”

I swallow over the lump in my throat as I nod my head because the diagnoses I’d imagined were so much worse and daunting. “How long until she wakes up?”

“That’s up to her body and the doctors. They did give her a mild sedative to allow her body to settle some, so they’ll probably bring her off that later today and then it’s a wait and see… but she’s a fighter. Has been responsive and seems to be struggling to wake up.”

All I can do is nod once again while tears well in my eyes before I blink them away as relief and hurt surge through me. “Thank you for talking to me,” I whisper as she scoots her chair back and nods in kind to me before walking away. She’s almost to the door when I speak without thinking. “I didn’t know she was… That’s not the kind of person I am…” I’m not sure why I feel the need to explain to her that I didn’t knowingly fall in love with a married woman, to let her know I’m not that guy. Maybe so she doesn’t regret her decision.