Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(60)
“I love him more than anybody but my girls. He’s been my best friend for twenty-five years. He’s a better man than any other I’ve ever known. Much better than me. And he’s had all the hurt he should ever have. More. I like what I see in him since he started up with you, but it worries me, too.”
“Why?”
“I like you, Shannon. I like you a lot. But there’s somethin’ not straight about you. I don’t know what it is, and I’m not asking you to tell me. But I don’t want it wrapping around Show’s spokes, gettin’ him hurt.
The closer you get, the harder that’s gonna be for him.”
Her stuff had nothing to do with Show, nothing to do with how she felt about him. It was her past, only hers. She might tell him one day; she didn’t know. But she certainly wasn’t going to tell Isaac. Still, she couldn’t feel pissed at him for bringing it up. He loved Show. He was looking out for him, and she found it touching, even now.
“If you feel that way, why are you bringing me to see him?”
He chuckled. “Because he’ll want to see you. Right now, all I care about is what’ll help him right now. I guess I’m saying stick with him now, then fish or cut bait if— when— when he pulls through.” He turned to her again, his look dark. “And don’t piss me off.”
She nodded. She didn’t know what to say.
oOo
They had some trouble getting anybody in the hospital to talk to them about Show. Isaac had been a hair’s breadth from out of control before a new doctor, a young Asian man, stepped between him and the latest person giving them the run-around and said he’d handle it from there.
“You’re here for Robert Ryan?”
Isaac barked, “Yes!” and Shannon saw that his clenched fists were going white.
The doctor gestured at Isaac’s kutte. “You’re family, then?”
And Isaac relaxed markedly. “Yeah. Exactly.”
The doctor nodded and held out his hand. Isaac shook it. “I’m Dr. Kwon. I was part of Mr. Ryan’s trauma team. We can sit over here”—he indicated a small nook with a few chairs, set apart from the rest of the emergency waiting area—“and I’ll tell you what I know. Then I’ll send you up and make a call, so they’re expecting you.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“Sure.” They sat, and Kwon got right to it. “First, I’ll say that my last word on him is that he’s stable. It’s important I say that right up front. Because he had a hard day.”
After the first few sentences, Shannon had trouble keeping her attention on what the doctor was saying.
It was all too much. God, he was so hurt. A concussion. A broken collarbone. Multiple contusions and lacerations over his body, requiring hundreds of stitches. But the worst of it: they’d pulled a sheared-off piece of his truck out of his abdomen. He’d spent hours in surgery, repairing his collarbone and sewing up his insides and outsides.
Dr. Kwon stood. “Okay. Let me make a call, and then you can go up. There’ll be somebody there who can give you the most updated information. It’s late, but”—he looked at Shannon—“you’re family, too?”
Isaac answered for her. “His old lady.”
Shannon turned sharply to Isaac at that, but said nothing. Especially after their talk on the ride to the hospital, she was sure he was only making room for the staff to let her be with Show without trouble. Still, it was surprising to hear herself referred to in that way.
Kwon nodded. “Since it’s Christmas, assuming he’s still stable, they’ll let you stay.”
The doctor on Show’s floor told them that he was stable and had been moving in and out of consciousness for the past two hours or so. “He got banged up good, and he looks like hell, but if we can avoid infection, there’s an excellent chance he’ll make a full recovery. He’ll hurt for awhile, though.” He directed them to a room down the hall, and Isaac took Shannon’s hand and led her back.
Oh, he looked terrible. Black and blue, stitched up like Frankenstein, his left arm bound up in a brace.
Blood still crusted in his beard and hair. He was bare-chested, the blankets folded down around his waist, and his belly was wrapped in a heavy, thick bandage. He was too big for the bed. They’d dropped the footboard or raised the mattress; either way, his feet hung off the end.
There was a nurse in the room changing an IV bag and injecting something into the line. She looked up and smiled as they came in.
“Oh, I’m so glad his family’s here. Shouldn’t be alone on Christmas if you don’t have to be.” She erased the white board on the wall and wrote a name on it: Sherrie. Then she added the date and Merry Christmas!! She made the dots in the exclamation points and the ‘i’ in her name and the word ‘Christmas’
into hearts.
She turned to Shannon, apparently perceiving her to be the most important person in the room, besides Show. “He’s pretty sleepy. They’re giving him the good stuff. Let me know if you need anything. We called down for a bigger bed. Hopefully it’ll be up soon.”
Shannon smiled and nodded. When the nurse was gone and the door was closed, she whispered, “Oh, God.” She walked over to the side of his bed and tried to find a place she could hold him. His free arm was crisscrossed with stitches. There was one of those monitor things on his finger, but she slid her hand in his and linked their fingers.