Lost for You Page 3

  I’ve always hated hospitals, but after my adopted mother’s cancer returned, we spent a lot of time in one while she got her treatments. Since then, I have resented them. Leah was the strongest, most prolific female role model in my life. She loved me for who I was, not because she had to. She never once made me feel like I wasn’t her own child, I felt adored and cherished, and she taught me to value myself and treat everyone with respect.

  When she died a year after her diagnosis, Roger and I only had each other left. Her death only brought us closer, and my father was my hero from that moment on. He made sure that I always knew that Leah was proud of me, and how happy I made both of them by coming into their lives. Even now, I know that they’re both looking down on me. It makes this moment even harder. I feel like I’ve let Elle down, as well as my parents. I should have stood my ground and refused to leave her side a week ago. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to her.

  If she’ll give me the chance.

  I reach the nurse’s station on the fourth floor and get directions to Elle’s room. They tell me that she is sleeping but that I can visit her if I’m quiet and don’t disturb her. I walk towards the door of her room and come to a complete stop the moment I see her. I can feel myself choking up just at the sight of her. It’s been seven long days since I saw her last, when I left her sleeping side, shattering both of our hearts in the process.

  She looks so broken. Her brown hair is messy and unkempt. Her skin, once radiant and glowing, looks clammy and pale, and her beautiful green eyes are hidden as she sleeps peacefully. The only sounds in the room are the constant beeping of her heartbeat on the monitor and the whooshing sound of the ventilator as it breathes for her.

  I will my legs to move and slowly approach the chair beside her bed. Sitting down on the edge of it, I reach forward and take her limp hand in mine. It feels so warm; the electric touch that I’ve always felt with Elle still radiates through me.

  I lay my head down on her hand. It’s the closest I can be to her right now, and I’ll take whatever I can get.

  As Devon and I walk outside the hospital doors, the sunlight hurts my eyes. I’ve been inside the hospital’s stifling four walls for over fourteen hours now; bright light is a bit of a shock to my system.

  I look around the parking lot, realizing that I don’t even have a car here. “Where’s your car, bro?” I ask.

  “Just over here. The white Dodge Ram,” he says proudly.

  I look over his truck as we get closer to it. “Nice ride,” I murmur.

  “Yeah, man. Gotta have a nice ride to get the tail,” he says with a laugh.

  “Is that my problem?” I reply dryly.

  “Maybe, bro, maybe. So where are we headed? I could really do with a shower and a change of clothes.”

  I pause for a moment, thinking of what to do. “We’ll head to Elle’s apartment. I need to check it out now that the police are finished with it. See how the fucker got in.”

  “Sweet. Put the address in the GPS and we’ll head off.”

  I send Brax a text to let him know what we’re doing.

  Shay: Just heading back to the apartment to have a shower and check the place out. Will need a clean up and alarm system too. Want me to sort it out?

  Brax: Yeah, whatever she needs, man. Charge it to my card.

  Shay: You okay?

  Brax: I will be when she wakes up.

  After about ten minutes, we park outside Elle’s building. There are no police cars or yellow police tape outside; you’d have no idea that the owner of the building was shot in her bed last night. I run my hands through my hair. I’m terrified by what I’m going to see in the light of day. She was shot in her bed, and although I turned the bathroom light on when I was looking for a towel, I never really got a full view of the scene. I was too focused on getting to Elle and keeping her alive.

  It’s been nine years since I have been in a situation like this; a woman I care a lot about being shot and me being unable to do anything about it. I didn’t even question what had to be done. I had to do whatever it took to save her life. At least this time I was able to save Elle. I wasn’t able to save Brenna when she needed me, and I lost the love of my life because of it. I shake my head, trying to snap out of this walk down memory lane. I have to focus on Elle right now.

  “Okay, D. Grab your bag and we’ll head on upstairs.”

  “Right behind ya,” he replies as he cuts the engine and opens his door.

  We reach the landing outside Elle’s apartment, and sure enough there is the yellow police tape wrapped around her front door.

  “I guess this is the place,” Devon says, deadpan.

  I scoff. “Yeah. Home, not so sweet, home.”

  I turn the handle, but it’s locked. Pulling out Brax’s key, I unlock the door, apprehensively walking inside. Devon moves slowly behind me, spending the time to take in the scene in front of him. The living room looks untouched; nothing out of the ordinary. I walk into the kitchen, turning to see the tell-tale black smudges on the door frames and around Elle’s bedroom door from where the police dusted for prints. I turn my head and see the kitchen wall where I knocked the shooter out. There is a small dent in the drywall. I chuckle to myself. Bet the fucker has a killer headache this morning.

  “Was that your doing?” Devon asks.

  I look over to him and smirk. “Yeah. Clocked him in the head and he crumbled like a little bitch. Pity he didn’t stay down.”

  He puts his hand on my shoulder, gripping it firmly. “Next time, Shay, he won’t get up.”

  I can’t take my eyes off her. Her hand feels warm, and I can see her chest rising and falling in time with the ventilator, but it still doesn’t seem real. I think I need to see her open those deep green eyes and smile at me with her grin that can light up a room. I want to be able to kiss those soft pink lips of hers and hold her close to me.

  It’s been seven days since I’ve been able to touch her; to make love to her. My body has ached for her every day that I’ve been gone. My heart shattered into pieces the moment I walked out that door.

  I remember the conversation we had just moments before she was shot. She said she didn’t care about any of it. Told me that nobody could hurt her except me, and that’s exactly what happened. She wouldn’t have been shot if I’d been there, protecting her. There was only so much Shay could do, and I know I can’t blame him for this happening.

  But despite being heartbroken, she still loves me. She told me she couldn’t be without me. “I’m broken,” she said before I asked her to meet me in New Orleans. If only I’d called her sooner, or told Shay to bring her to me. I’ll never forgive myself. God, I hope she still wants me after this. I don’t know what I’ll do if she has changed her mind about us.

  For all she knows, she got shot because of me. I need her to wake up. I’ll even pray if I have to. She has to be okay.

  I look over and see a bag with Elle’s name on it on top of the cabinet beside the bed. I stand up and walk around, opening the bag to have a look. I see Elle’s blood splattered pajamas and her diamond infinity necklace lying on top. I reach inside the bag and pull it out, laying it over my hand as my finger traces the curves of the design. I’m still wearing my ring she gave me. It has not come off my finger even once since she gave it to me. In a way, it made me feel better when I was away, knowing I had a piece of her with me. Undoing the clasp and reaching over the bed, I place the necklace gently around her small frail neck, kissing her forehead before standing up again.

  I sit down in the chair beside her again, remembering the last words she had said to me before that echoing blast rocked both our worlds. “I love you always,” she said.

  “I love you too, sweetheart,” I murmur as I fall asleep next to her; my head on the bed, and my hand cradling hers.

  I’ve been at Elle’s bedside for two days now. Forty-eight hours of holding her hand, talking to her, remembering the happy times over our past ten months together. I’ve been thinking
of all the little things we would do. The sneaky gropes, the soft kisses Elle would give me all over my face when she woke me up.

  I love how she has always shown me her cheeky side, even from the beginning. Of course, her cheeky side ended up being a hell of a lot more sultry towards the end, but I was so far gone, anything she gave me was a blessing.

  I can’t wipe the smile off my face when I remember Shay’s birthday party and how much we teased each other until we couldn’t take it anymore. I had to touch her, to hear her cry out my name as I brought her to climax, to have her body grip mine as I moved inside her. That was one of these most memorable nights of my life.

  I need her to survive this, so we can have more nights like that.

  Three days.

  Three of the longest days in my fucking life.

  Three days of the whirring ventilator, the stream of nurses and doctors coming in and out, the constant poking and prodding, the tests, the sound of the blood pressure machine tightening and loosening, even the ticking of the clock on the wall. It’s all starting to get to me.

  She needs to wake up.

  She must wake up.

  Four days have been and gone, and Elle is still in a medically induced coma. The doctors are happy with her progress and want to try taking her off the ventilator and removing the tube from her throat when she wakes up.

  One of the nurses, Beverly, seems to have taken a shining to us. Being in the ICU, visiting hours are usually limited to enable patients to get as much rest as possible so that they can recover. Somehow, Beverly has managed to let me stay in Elle’s room overnight. That woman deserves a gold medal!

  It’s Wednesday morning almost a week since Elle was shot and a week since my middle of the night dash across half the country to get back to her. I’ve barely left her side since I’ve been back, apart from the rare food and bathroom break, or quick showers in the nurse’s lounge before rushing back to her bedside.

  We’re waiting for the doctors to do their rounds before they try to get her breathing on her own again. I’m a nervous wreck, more so today than the rest of the week. I suppose it’s because so much could go wrong. I sent Shay a text earlier, asking him to be close to the hospital this morning. I know I’ll need him if shit goes bad. I’m a mess as I wait for the moment she’s awake again. I need to see her open those beautiful green eyes to know she’ll be okay.

  An hour later, Shay pops his head in to let me know he’s arrived just as the doctors and Beverly enter the room for their rounds.

  “Let me know how it goes,” he says before leaving.

  “Brax, this is Dr. Robinson. He’s the cardiothoracic surgeon who performed Elle’s surgery. And this is Dr. Jarvis. He’s the pulmonologist who will listen to Elle’s lungs once we’ve done everything. He just needs to have a final check to make sure Elise is ready to breathe on her own,” Beverly explains to me.

  “Okay,” I reply, running my hands through my hair as my nerves reach breaking point. I’ll never forgive myself if she’s not okay.

  The surgeon checks Elle’s chart and looks through the notes before pulling out his stethoscope to listen to her chest. After a few minutes he nods to the other doctor and turns to talk to me.

  “She’s going to find it quite painful to breathe for a few days, and her throat is likely going to be irritated from the tube, but it is all looking very good. If she can cope over the next twenty-four hours, we’ll be able to move her out of ICU down to the surgical ward. Then after a few days, if the breathing therapy is going alright, we’ll look at discharging her. Sound good?”

  I stand up and move to shake his hand. “Yeah, sounds great. Thank you so much, Dr. Robinson.”

  “Do you have any questions for me?” he asks, jotting down some notes on Elle’s chart.

  I pause to think about what I really need to know from him. “Will she remember the shooting?” I ask.

  “Yes, she should. Your friend acted fast, and the paramedics were able to get to her relatively quickly. Because of that, there was no lack of oxygen, so there is little to no chance of any lasting effects on her brain or memory,” he replies, placing his hand on my forearm. “In a few weeks she’ll be back on her feet, and in a month or so she’ll be back to normal.”

  I nod in acceptance. “Thanks, doctor.”

  “Okay. Let’s get this tube out, and the ventilator turned off,” he says to Beverly.

  “I might just step out into the hall while you do that,” I say quietly, stepping out into the hallway outside Elle’s hospital room. I may have lived here for the past week, but I have too many bad memories from Leah to watch them do things to my Elle.

  About ten minutes later, the doctors step out of the room, smiling at me before walking towards the nurse’s station. Beverly gestures for me to come back in the room and I look over to see my gorgeous girl still sleeping. Her eyes are shut, but gone is the whirring ventilator. The only noise now is the heart rate monitor steadily beeping away beside her. I take a moment to steady my breathing, letting out a huge sigh of relief. I’m back home, back where I’m always meant to be. Now, I have to work to stay here, and hope like hell that I can keep her safe in the process.

  My eyes are closed and feel really heavy. I try to open them, but they won’t budge. Wait. What is that beeping sound I hear? It speeds up as I start to panic. Where the hell am I?

  “Shh, dear. You’re okay. I need you to calm down for me, sweetheart,” I hear an older woman’s warm voice talking softly beside me. Her voice sounds very maternal, and it is calming me down. “Elle, you are okay now. You’re in the hospital, and you’ve just had surgery to fix up your chest. Do you remember where you are now?”

  I nod my head ever so slightly, fighting a losing battle to keep my eyes open. They feel like they’re stuck together. I try again and get the smallest glimpse of light coming from in front of me.

  “That’s right, Elle, nice and slow now. We’ve turned the lights off so that it won’t be so painful for you. You just need to relax and try breathing normally. Slow and steady breaths,” I hear her say from my left hand side. I turn my head towards her voice.

  “W….Water,” I rasp, my voice barely audible.

  I hear something knock against the bed beside me, startling me. “We need to take it slow, Elle. Ice chips to start off with, okay? Open your mouth slightly.”

  I oblige and feel a cold spoon on my parched lips and the cool smoothness of the ice chips as they melt on my tongue. I moan. It feels so good to have some water, even in ice form. I gesture for more, nodding carefully when she brings the cup back towards me.

  “Okay. One last lot before I check your vitals again,” the nice woman tells me. “I’m Beverly. I’m your nurse for the next three hours until I finish my shift.”

  Not wanting to hurt my throat again, I give her a small nod and smile. I feel a small warm hand gently grab my wrist, then the ripping of Velcro while a scratchy cuff is pulled up to the top of my arm. Beverly turns my wrist outwards, pressing two fingers on my pulse point while I feel the cuff start to inflate and tighten.

  “You gave us quite a scare there for a while. Especially in the OR.”

  I clear my throat. It feels so dry and rough, but I’m still feeling really confused and wary. “W…what happened?”

  “The bullet punctured your lung, and there was some uncontrolled bleeding. It took a while to get the bleeding under control, then we had to reinflate your lung, but the surgeon was able to fix you up as good as new,” Beverly explains.

  “B…..B….Brax,” I whisper. Damn, it hurts to breathe.

  “Sweetheart, I’m here.” I hear his voice coming from my right hand side. The voice I’ve been dreaming about while I’ve been sleeping is here with me; not over the phone, and not in my head. He’s actually here with me.

  I turn my head towards his voice and give him a sleepy smile.

  “Yeah, baby, I’m here.” he says, gently grabbing my free hand, and stroking his thumb over my knuckles.

&nb
sp; Suddenly, it is like a dam has burst; a sob escapes my throat, and I can’t stop the tears that fall.

  “Elle, it’s okay now. I’m here, and I’m never gonna leave you again,” he says, leaning forward and gently kissing my dry lips. “I’m here.”

  Beverly clears her throat. “Don’t go getting her upset now. She’s been asleep for a long time, and she’s only just come off the ventilator.”

  Brax looks up at her and gives her a responding nod. “Yes, ma’am,” he says with a smirk. I hear her chuckle; that smirk will charm anyone obviously.

  “I’ll leave you two alone, but I’ll be back in about an hour to check your vitals again. The doctor wants them done hourly for the next twelve hours,” she explains before grabbing a folder from the end of my bed and heading out the door, leaving Brax and I alone.

  I move my head back towards him and smile; he’s just as gorgeous as I remember. He looks very tired and worn down, though. It seems like just yesterday I was falling asleep in his arms.

  I realize that I have so many unanswered questions, and I don’t even know where to start.

  “When?”

  “I came as soon as I could get here. I think it was about thirteen hours after they brought you in,” he says, slowing down his strokes across my hand. “I swear to god, sweetheart. This has been the longest week of my life.”

  A week? “A week?”

  He looks up at me, wide eyed. “Elle, you’ve been in an induced coma for the past four days, hooked up to a ventilator to help you breathe. The bullet nicked your lung, and you bled out.”

  I gasp in shock. A whole week of my life is gone, just like that. He stands up and leans over me, stroking my hair away from my face.

  “Hey, it’s okay, hon. You’re out of the woods now. The doctor is happy with how you’re doing, and will be by to explain everything to you soon.”