London Falling (Falling #2)(69)

The words “transplant” and “donor match” were like a knife shoved directly into my heart. I backed away, not capable of hearing more until I hit the wall and slid down into a crouch. My ribs and broken arm screamed in pain, but it was nothing compared to the hell that ravished my mind. Aspen came and tried her best to comfort me as the doctor continued.

“We’ve got him on a donor list, but in times like these, when siblings are accessible, they tend to be the best possible match.”

“But we’re only half. Ten years ago, Collier donated his kidney to Emma here. That’s why he only has one. I wasn’t a blood type match for her, but Collier was. Does that matter?” Emma shook and sobbed into his chest as I stood against the wall, listening to my worst nightmare, one I’d lived through already, come back to haunt me again.

The doctor’s eyes slid down, then closed. “Yes, it does. I’m sorry. If you’re not a blood match, you can’t donate an organ. Is there anyone else in your family?”

Hope sprang as Nate’s eyes filled. He shook his head and that glimmer of hope plummeted. “No. Collier and Em. Let me make some calls, see what we can find with extended family. There’s got to be someone, somewhere willing to save my brother’s life. Whatever the cost. We’ll pay!” Nate’s strength broke and tears slid down his scruffy cheeks.

“Me, test me!” I asked.

The doctor nodded. “First, we’ll see about blood matches and let you know. I’ll have someone brought over to schedule the tests.”

Over the next few hours, I sat by Collier’s side. The nurse informed me that I was not a match. She might as well have told me the sun was gone and the moon would forever light the earth because without Collier, I would be in perpetual darkness. Collier had B- blood. In the US, only two percent of the population shared that blood type. Organ donation by a live donor was rare. With a percentage that low, the odds of a deceased donor were small also.

I sat by Collier’s bedside in my hospital gown. I was cold but I didn’t care. If Collier couldn’t be warm, couldn’t live, then I didn’t care what happened to me.

James was right. Hell, everyone was right. I should have told Collier how I felt. Stopped being a scaredy-cat and admitted I had strong feelings for him. I outright loved the stubbornly sexy Englishman. Now I feared I’d never get to tell him. What then?

That would be two men I’d loved and lost.

What was the saying Collier mentioned on our first date? It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all? Whoever said that was full of shit. They obviously never truly loved someone because it wasn’t f*cking better. It was easier to go through life not loving someone. Then you didn’t feel mind-numbing, all over body pain when you lost them.

It was official. I was cursed. If London Kelley fell in love with a man, he was taken away. Twice. What are the odds of that? Really? Does God hate me? He must. I can’t understand why he’d take such beautiful men away from the world so young.

“Collier, I’m sorry. If you can hear me, I’m so sorry. I should have told you.” I looked at his face and swept that stray lock of blond hair off his forehead. He had cuts and bruises on his face but in his sleep, he still looked peaceful, as if he was going to wake up and melt my heart with his delicious accent. He’d call me Beauty and everything in the world would feel right again.



***

London? Where are you? Why can’t I see you? My eyes won’t open. Fucking open! I screamed but no sound came out. It was like being underwater, so deep that my screams never made it to the surface.

Her lovely voice pierced the darkness as I treaded water, submerged under a cloak of blackness. I tried to move a finger, a toe, my face. I just couldn’t. Nothing worked. Then her voice continued in a soft lilting tone, comforting, like salve on an open wound.

“Collier, I’m sorry. If you can hear me, I’m so sorry. I should have told you.”

Told me what, Beauty? What? I can hear you. I just can’t reach you!

“I have so much to be sorry for. Pushing you away--” Her voice cracked. I wanted to reach out to her, comfort her. Tell her it would be okay. That I’d take away her hurt. Make it better.

“You never deserved my leaving, running off after we’d shared beautiful evenings together.”

She had a point, but if I could just sodding reach her, I’d tell her, hold her in my arms and pet her hair, explain that we were past all that. It was different now. We made amends and had full lives ahead of us. Ones we’d spend together. Christ! Why can’t I f*cking move?

“Every moment with you has been the best moment of my life.” I could hear her sobbing and it gutted me. “I just want you to know, that no matter what happens, I’ll be here for you. I love you, Collier.”

She loves me. My Beauty admitted she loves me and I can’t reach her. Jesus, I’m tired. So sleepy.

I love you, London. Please don’t leave me.



***

The bed jostled and I woke instantly, looking at Collier to see if there had been any change. Another day had passed and the nurse was shifting Collier and moving things around.

“You need to leave,” she said hurriedly.

“What? Why?”

“He’s going in for surgery in the next thirty minutes.”