Beyond What is Given(100)

She wouldn’t have ended up under a pile of rubble.

“She’s going to be okay, Grayson. I’ve never met anyone with as much grit as Sam. She’s a fighter, she’ll be okay.”

My spine snapped straight and my eyes narrowed at him. “You don’t know that.”

“She’s—”

“She’s been through a tornado, crushed, and hasn’t woken up in the four hours that we’ve been here. Her pupils were uneven and dilated. You. Don’t. Know. Anything.” My shoulders sagged. “None of us do.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I know that you’ve been through hell already, and lost one woman that you love, only to have her come back while you lose the other. Emotionally, of course. Fuck, I didn’t mean like…lose her, lose her. I don’t know what to say.” He raked his hands over his Red Sox hat, curving the bill. “To be honest, you’re usually the one who says…the thing.”

“The thing?”

Jagger shrugged. “You know. The thing. You always know what to say. I don’t, and I really wish I did. Especially now.”

I watched another doctor come in to talk to a different family. “Yeah, well, that’s probably because there’s nothing to say. Not this time.”

Because this may have seemed a lot like a repeat of what happened five years ago, but this was so much worse. This was Samantha. My Samantha.

Jagger slowly nodded. “Okay. Then how about I just sit here with you?”

But this time I wasn’t alone.

“Yeah. That’d be good.”



Her arm was fractured in three places. One broken rib. One laceration on her arm. One dislocated shoulder. Multiple contusions. A definite concussion.

“And you are her next of kin?” the doctor asked us three hours later as we stood outside the ICU.

“Yes,” Jagger answered. “I have her medical power of attorney.”

“You what?” I snapped, not caring that the doctor flinched.

“Sam’s not an idiot, Grayson. She had it done before she ever agreed to move down here. Well, her mother did. With deployments and no grandparents, we’re the only family she has, at least until her mom gets here,” he said to the doctor.

Inexplicable rage festered in my chest. If anyone was going to make decisions about Sam’s health, it was going to be me. Period.

“She has a concussion, and we’re monitoring for any swelling in her brain. We’ve started a course of drugs to help, and we’re oxygenating her. Right now she’s responding well.”

“And if her brain swells?” I asked, trying not to panic.

“If that happens, we’ll have a couple options. First, we can do surgery to help remove the pressure, or we can put her into a medically-induced coma to let her brain rest, or shut down if you will.”

“No!” My voice echoed down the hallway. I grabbed Jagger’s arm. “I don’t care if you’re one of my best friends. You put her in a f*cking coma and I’ll put you in a grave.”

I wasn’t letting Sam go where I couldn’t follow her.

Jagger’s hand covered mine with a pat. “Okay.” He turned back to the doctor.

“We’re nowhere near that yet,” the doctor interjected.

“When will we know how it’s going?”

He looked sideways at me but answered. “We’re continuously monitoring her, but she looks promising.”

“When can we see her?” I asked. I needed to feel her warmth, her pulse.

“Once we have her stabilized.” He excused himself and went back through the glass doors that separated me from her.

I took two steps back, bumped into the wall, and slid down it until I hit the ground with my arms on my raised knees.

“I need to check on Paisley, man. You okay for a minute?”

I nodded. “And Avery. Check Avery.”

“You got it.” Jagger left.

My phone rang and I answered with a mumbled, “Hello?”

“Are you okay?” Grace asked.

I stumbled through the story, glad to have her voice of reason with me.

“You don’t deserve this,” she said after I’d finished.

“Karma? Sure, I do. What I did to you—”

“Stop. Gray, you weren’t to blame for that. Owen was. If anyone on the planet should be able to absolve you of that guilt, it’s me.”

My head landed against the wall. “Sam is the one who didn’t deserve this. You were an innocent party. Wrong place, wrong time. But Sam? She was there to help Avery. She literally ran toward a damn tornado.”

“She’s brave,” Grace said softly.

“Yes. And funny, and complicated, and sexy, and smart. But, God, it’s that heart of hers I don’t think I can live without. I don’t know what life looks like without her in it. I keep thinking back to when it was you in there, while we were waiting to hear about your brain function.”

“How does this compare?” she asked.

“Honestly?”

“Of course. You might not be my boyfriend, but you’re still my best friend. I know that might not be the same for you, that you’ve adapted to life without me, but I want to be here for you. So yes, honestly.”