Page 31 of Wrecked (McIntyre Security Bodyguard #16)

I’m working at the shooting range when Shane calls.

“You need to get to the hospital NOW,” he says. “There’s been a hit-and-run accident. Beth and Sam are both injured. Beth is stable, but Sam’s in critical condition with a severe head injury. They’re both in the emergency room.”

I can barely make out what he’s saying over the roaring in my ears. “Wait—what!”

“Cooper, go! Now!”

And then the line goes dead.

I grab my phone and head out the door to my vehicle. I don’t even remember driving to the hospital, but suddenly I’m in the emergency room parking garage. I pull into the first open slot I find and race into the ER.

“Where’s Sam Harrison?” I demand of the woman seated at the information desk.

She lifts her eyes to me. “And how are you related to Mr. Harrison?”

“I’m his…” I freeze. What the hell am I? And then I blurt out, “I’m his partner! Where is he?”

She consults her computer. “He’s in room five.”

“Sir, wait!” the woman calls as I race toward the doors leading into the ER treatment area. The doors are locked, and we have to be buzzed through.

Just as I get to the doors, someone’s coming out. I grab the opportunity to slip through the opening and race to the closest nurses’ desk. “Sam Harrison! Bed number five.”

A nurse looks up from her keyboard and points down an adjacent hallway. “Last door on the left, sir.”

I race down the corridor, dodging civilians, nurses, and patients lying on gurneys.

When I reach the last door on the left, I push inside and come to a sudden halt.

Sam’s lying on the bed surrounded by four medical professionals who are all scrambling to care for him.

Two men and two women. I can barely make out Sam lying still on the bed.

One of the women, a nurse, notices me and tries to push me out of the room. “Sir, please wait in the hall.”

I dig in my heels. “How is he? Is he okay?”

Her neutral expression gives away nothing. “He’s being assessed right now, sir. I’ll have to ask you to wait out here.”

“No! I’m not leaving him.”

“Sir, your son—”

“He’s not my fucking son! He’s my—” I say the only thing I can think of that will guarantee me access to his room. “—my husband!”

Her eyes widen. “All right, then. Come inside but please stay quiet and out of the way. Let us do our work.”

I nod. Hell, I’d agree to anything she said as long as I can be near him.

I follow the nurse back into Sam’s room and stand off to the side, out of the way. I try to be inconspicuous because I’m afraid they’re going to chase me out of here.

Sam is attached to all sorts of machines that are beeping and whirring. He’s connected to a blood pressure cuff, and it looks like a young woman is in the process of inserting an IV line in his arm.

I can’t see all of him, but I can definitely see that his head is bandaged. His face, chest, and arms are splattered with blood. He’s lying there, still as a statue, unconscious.

My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. There’s a roaring sound in my ears, and my vision starts to dim.

“Somebody either sit him down or get him out of here!” yells a man in a white coat who’s shining a flashlight into Sam’s eyes.

Another man, this one younger and taller, grabs my arm and steers me to a corner chair. “Sit down, sir, before you pass out.” His nametag says Dr. Kyle Newman, Neurology.

As I sit there and stare at these people hovering over Sam—shouting orders, talking so rapidly I can’t follow what they’re saying—all I can think is, God, please, I can’t lose him.

I can’t. He’s—he’s everything.

Sam, please, hang in there, baby.

Another woman pops her head into the room. “They’re getting a bed ready for him in the ICU.”

ICU—the intensive care unit.

“I want that CT scan now!” Dr. Newman yells.

A nurse scurries off to make arrangements.

I sit here, frozen, in shock as I stare at Sam’s seemingly lifeless body. If it weren’t for the machines tracking his pulse and blood pressure, I wouldn’t even know he was alive.

And the blood! He’s covered in it. A nurse is working on getting him cleaned up.

And Beth ! God, she’s hurt, too. She must be somewhere nearby, but I can’t leave Sam.

God, how could this happen?

Lia walks into the room. “The front desk told me you wanted to see me,” she tells the doctor.

“Yeah,” the man says. “You’re one of the witnesses? Tell me what happened. What did you see? Did you see him hit his head?”

Lia glances at me and nods a silent greeting.

“We were crossing the street when a car ran a red light and came speeding right at us. Sam pushed our friend Beth out of the way, but he got hit in the process. The impact sent him flying into a streetlamp. He hit his head on the metal base. We called 911, and here we are.”

“Was he conscious at the time of the accident?”

“Not really. Once he hit his head, he didn’t regain consciousness.”

“Thank you,” the doctor says.

Lia walks over to me and lays her arm across my shoulder. “Hang in there, Cooper. Sam’s a tough one. He’ll be fine. If he can survive falling out of an airplane, he can survive this.”

* * *

Sam is wheeled off to the imaging department for a CT scan. They image his head to check for fractures and internal bleeding. I wait outside the room as he is scanned.

They X-ray his broken leg next. It’s a compound fracture. Again.

Then he’s moved to the ICU until it’s time for his surgery, which will be soon. The doctors are concerned about bleeding in his skull. There may be brain damage, but we won’t know until after he regains consciousness. The silent words if he regains consciousness are rattling around in my head.

I pull a chair up beside his bed in the ICU room and sit as close as I can, clutching his hand in mine and staring at his still, ashen face.

“Please, wake up, baby,” I whisper. “Please.”

He came so close to dying today. In fact, he’s not out of the woods yet. I could still lose him.

I reach out and stroke his forehead, just below the bandages covering his head. I link our fingers together and bring his hand to my mouth to kiss. “Sam, please wake up.”

A nurse comes into the room a few minutes later and asks me to move back from the bed.

“We’re getting him ready for surgery.” She says something about relieving the pressure in his skull.

“If he’s stable during the procedure, they’ll bring someone in to repair the damage to his leg while he’s still under anesthesia. ”

Things are moving quickly, which makes me think his condition is serious.

When they wheel him out of the room, I sit and stare at the empty space where his bed was. If things go badly, he might never return to this room. My chest tightens, and my heart aches. If that’s the case, I don’t think I’ll ever recover. I can’t imagine living without him.

It dawns on me that probably no one has called his family.

I locate Sam’s phone in the cupboard holding his personal possessions.

The screen is cracked, but fortunately the phone still functions.

I know his passcode, so I unlock the phone and place a call to his mom.

I hate that the first time I’m going to talk to her is to tell her that her son’s in the hospital fighting for his life.

The phone rings three times before she answers. “Sammy, honey!” She sounds so excited. “How are you?”

It breaks my heart to be the one to tell her bad news. “Mrs. Harrison?”

Her voice sobers instantly. “Yes, this is Michelle Harrison. Who is this? Why are you calling on my son’s phone?”

“This is Daniel Cooper. I’m Sam’s… friend.”

“Cooper.” She sounds hesitant. “Sam has mentioned you. And I know you’re more than a friend.”

I wasn’t sure how much Sam had told his family about me. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your son is in the hospital.”

She makes a sound, part gasp and part cry. “What happened? Is he all right?”

“He was hit by a car this afternoon while crossing the street.”

“Hit by a car! How could that happen?”

“It’s complicated. He was protecting his client.”

“What’s his prognosis?” she asks, suddenly sounding more like a medical professional than a mom.

“I don’t know. They just took him to surgery. The CT scan shows there’s bleeding in his skull. His doctor said something about relieving the pressure. And then there’s his leg—”

“His leg?” She groans. “Not again. My poor boy.”

“His left leg has a compound fracture, but I guess that’s minor compared to his head injury.”

Sam’s mother is silent for a moment before she sucks in a deep breath. “All right. My daughter and I will catch the first flight we can to O’Hare.”

“I’d offer to come pick you up at the airport, but—”

“No, that’s okay,” she says. “You stay at the hospital. We can get a ride from the airport.”

“I appreciate that. I don’t want to leave him. I want to be here when he wakes up.”

I give her the name of the hospital, and we end the call so she can contact her daughter and make plans.

* * *

While Sam is in surgery, I pace the halls of the ICU, waiting for news. I grab a cup of coffee from a vending machine and sit in the waiting room to drink it. One cup of coffee turns into two and then three. I wish I had something stronger.

I still have Sam’s phone on me. His mother calls for an update on his condition and to let me know she and her daughter, Rachel, have just landed at O’Hare. They’ll drop their luggage off at their hotel and then come to the hospital.

Lia stops by to give me an update on Beth’s condition. Shane’s with her, of course. She’s not in any danger, thank God. She has a lot of cuts and abrasions. Other than that, their biggest concern is she might have a broken wrist.

The surgery continues. A nurse comes out periodically to tell me he’s stable. Sam’s family arrives in the ICU waiting room. They’re easy to spot—a woman around my age and another around Sam’s age, both with red hair and freckles. Obviously, there’s a strong family resemblance.