35. Sam

Chapter 35

Sam

B y the time Chase finally comes to let me know Brixton was out of surgery and moved into the Intensive Care Unit hours later, I think I’ve worn off the sole of my one sneaker from all the pacing. My good leg and both of my arms are damn sore, but I need to keep moving. If I stand still, the darkness hovering in the air will creep in and swallow me whole.

“I have to get back to my rounds but I wanted to let you know what was going on,” Chase says.

A deep sigh sags my shoulders. I keep pacing. “Did the doctors say anything? When will he wake up?”

“They don’t know. They’re going to run tests but…” I stop to look at him and he pauses, deliberately looking away from me. “He’s still unresponsive. There was a lot of damage that they didn’t even realize until they opened him up. They don’t…” He presses his lips together for a long second. “They don’t feel confident.”

I stomp over to him. “I want to talk to the doctor. Now. Where is he?” My pulse beats a hole into my neck. “I will find the best cardiac surgeon in the country if these doctors can’t do the job. I’ll pay any price. Just?—”

“Sam.”

My spine stiffens at his chilling tone.

“He can’t go through another surgery right now. His body is way too weak.” Chase taps a long black stylus against his iPad, clearly biding his words. “He also went into cardiac arrest during the surgery. The doctors said it was a miracle that they were able to bring him back at all. If they cut him again, he will likely die on the operating table. As it is, they don’t even know if he’s going to wake up.”

A doctor appears around a corner, nods toward Chase, and walks over.

Panic wrenches my gut.

“Dr. Rajan, this is my brother, Sam.” Chase looks at me. “Dr. Rajan is the lead cardiothoracic surgeon who was working on Brixton.”

The doctor sticks his hand out to me.

I just glare at it and then at him.

“You’re supposed to save lives. Why the hell can’t you help him?”

“Sam,” Chase hisses.

“Mr. Hartley, I can appreciate your concern, but we did everything we could. The damage?—”

“No, I don’t want to hear about the damage. I want to hear about the fixes.” My fists clench. “Why don’t we start there? And if you can’t take proper care of him, I’ll find someone who can.”

“Jesus Christ,” Chase mutters, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Dr. Rajan folds his hands together. “I understand your agitation. I’ve spoken to Mr. Scott’s father and sister-in-law already. I’ve discussed the prognosis with them. But you aren’t immediate family. So while I can appreciate your concern, you’ll need to speak to them for details.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m sorry.” Dr. Rajan turns away and continues down the hallway.

“Is he seriously leaving right now? When Brixton is clinging to life in that bed? Where the fuck do you work?”

Chase grabs me by the arm and shoves me into a corner. “You can’t go around blasting doctors like that. He’s being treated like a VIP, for Christ’s sake. They have a team of doctors working on him.”

“And yet he’s still unconscious. Not really a strong team,” I growl.

“You need to back the hell off, Sam, and remember I work here. I get that you’re upset?—”

“Upset?” I let out an incredulous laugh and pull away from him. “I am fucking shattered, Chase. Completely shattered. And I need for somebody in this goddamn place to step up and save the man I love.”

“You need to trust the people who are working hard to help him. And even though you’re my brother and an NFL star, you’re still not immediate family, so you’re not going to get news directly. My advice is to stick close to Allie and his dad. They’ll be the ones getting the updates while I’m gone. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Do you think I can see him?”

Chase bites down on his lower lip and looks at his watch. “I can take you to him. You can only stay a minute, though. It’s against the rules, but I know someone who can let us in.”

“Fine. Just please take me to him.”

We take the elevator up to the Cardiovascular Intensive Care Unit and Chase stops at the nurses’ station. A pretty girl smiles at him and I’m hit with a flash of recognition.

It’s Rae, the nurse who was with us the night Chase got his new heart.

He leans in to whisper something to her and she nods.

She walks around the desk and waves us toward her. Nobody else seems to be paying attention. We follow her into a private corridor.

“Mr. Scott is a VIP, so we have him sectioned off but still close enough where the CVICU nurses can get to him quickly.” She gives me a pointed look. “I’m going to get some coffee, and when I get back you had better not be here.”

I nod, staring at Brixton lying on the bed from my spot in the doorway. Chase claps me on the back. “I’m going to leave you. But I’ll be back if I hear anything.”

“Thanks,” I say without turning around.

A whisper of a chill hits my skin. I take a few steps inside the room.

It’s nice. Reminds me of the room Chase was in a couple of years ago. Much homier than the typical rooms.

But the soothing décor doesn’t do a damn thing to ease the ache in my ears from the blaring monitors. He’s hooked up to so much machinery right now that’s keeping him alive. It scares me because I know without those machines, he’d be gone.

Maybe he already is.

“No,” I grunt. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t even think that.”

I walk to the side of the bed. His head tilts to the side, his dark hair hanging over one eye as it usually does. I smooth it away from his pale skin, then trail my fingertips down the side of his strong jaw. A sob struggles to get through the deep ache in my chest but I swallow it down.

I can’t let it out. If I do, I’ll be giving in to the despair and right now, I need to channel every positive thought and feeling I can find in me.

Maybe if he can feel me here…

I slip one hand underneath his and lace my fingers with his cold ones, careful not to disturb the IV.

“I was such a fucking idiot for letting you leave like that,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean anything I said to you. I was scared of how strong my feelings were and…and…”

My voice cuts out and I clear my throat.

“I didn’t trust you with my heart and I’m sorry. You own it, Brixton. Only you.”

I stare at his face. He doesn’t make a move. No hand squeeze, no fluttering eyelids.

Nothing.

“I love you. I should have been strong enough to say the words. I’ll never miss the chance again if you just…” My throat tightens, my eyes stinging. “If you just wake up.”

I dip my head and graze his lips with mine. Then I take my crutches, swing myself around, and leave the room, the beeping sounds reverberating between my ears.

A few minutes later, the elevator door pings and I hobble off and walk in the direction of the lobby waiting room. More people swarm the place. Brixton’s bandmates huddle together with their manager and agent. A bunch of guys in suits sit in another corner on their phones. Allie rocks Julianna in her arms, Martin sitting next to them, staring blankly at the tiled floor. Cops and security line each entrance, inside and outside.

I turn my head to the swarms of people now gathered outside. There are so many more than there were when we got here. More flowers, posters, and candles fill the empty ground space.

With a resigned breath, I stand against the wall facing the courtyard. A poster of Brixton stares back at me with that cocky, sexy smile I love so much.

“Sam. ”

I jump out of my thoughts and twist to see my parents. Mom reaches for me and I fall into her arms.

“Have you heard anything?” Dad asks. “Did they catch the person who did this?”

I shake my head. “No, the cops are still looking for leads. It was a clean hit. I just came from his room, but…nothing. How did you know to come?”

“Jack called us.” Mom pulls away, her eyes sad. “Sam, I’m so sorry about what happened at the house that night. I feel awful. I never meant for him to overhear. And we certainly didn’t want to hurt either of you.”

“You know how much I love you guys, right?” I lean back against a wall to take the pressure off my good leg for a minute.

“Of course,” Dad says.

“I value your opinions and listen to your advice. But I’m a grown man. I can make my own decisions. Sometimes I think you forget that. We went through something really traumatic with Chase and that only made you hold on to me tighter. I let it happen, though, so I blame myself.”

“Sweetie,” Mom starts but I put up a hand.

“Let me finish. I let myself get sucked into your idea that Brixton wasn’t good for me because I was afraid that I’d get hurt. But it’s always risky when you realize you’ve fallen in love with someone, no matter who they are. There’s always a chance you’ll get hurt. And I ended up hurting him. Badly. And now I don’t know if I can ever make up for it.”

Dad squeezes my shoulder. “I’m sorry, son.”

I let out a shaky breath. “He’s everything to me. And I know you think it happened fast, but to be honest, it really didn’t. It started a long time ago, and I pray to God that it’s not even close to ending.”

“We want that for you, sweetie,” Mom says. “So badly.”

Behind Mom, Allie slowly approaches. After I do a quick introduction, she asks if I want to go back to the CVICU with her. “I’ll make sure you get in.”

“Definitely.”

I limp back to the elevators with her, silent prayers and pleas looping through my mind.

We step into the hallway and make our way back to his room.

“Have you heard anything?” I ask. “The doctors are a little pissed at me because I might have told them they’re not doing their job?—”

The rest of my words are swallowed by a piercing alarm.

Allie grabs onto my arm and my heart damn near stops.

A group of nurses rush past us.

They’re heading straight for the VIP section.

A flash of white blasts by.

Dr. Rajan.

Dread washes over me like a crushing wave, the memory of our last words crashing into me like a runaway train into a brick wall.

No, God. Don’t take him. Just give us one more chance, please…