Beneath This Ink Page 37

Hennessey had stopped back, surveyed the scene, and left. He’d be showing up on my doorstep soon enough to get the scoop—of that I was certain.

When he’d returned to the waiting room, Vanessa had tried to scoot away from me, but I’d pulled her closer to my side. I’d probably catch hell for that later, but for right now, I wasn’t letting her out of reach.

A solid knock preceded the door swinging open again, and a man in green scrubs stepped inside. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was the surgeon.

Ms. Vincent was on her feet before he opened his mouth to say, “I’m Dr. Byron.”

She clutched the beads of her rosary until I was certain she’d snap the thing. “How…how is my boy? Is he…please, doctor…”

“He’s still critical. I repaired the artery, but he lost a lot of blood. We’re going to be monitoring him closely over the next several hours.”

His words were guarded, and as much as I tried to find hope and optimism in them, I couldn’t.

“Can I see him?” Ms. Vincent asked.

“Just for a little bit, ma’am. He’s in the ICU.” The doctor looked at us. “Only immediate family, though.”

Holding Vanessa against my side, I met Ms. Vincent’s eyes. “You go. We’ll wait here.”

She looked from me to Vanessa. “You take that girl home and stay with her. She’s been through hell tonight. I’ve got Jesus to keep me company.”

Vanessa protested. “I’m fine—”

Ms. Vincent stepped closer, and laid a hand on Vanessa’s arm. “I see the guilt you’re carrying. Don’t. No matter what happens, my boy is a hero tonight.”

Vanessa stiffened. I squeezed her against me again and answered for her. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be back first thing.” I glanced up at the doctor and back to Ms. Vincent. “Anything changes, you call me. I don’t care what time.”

Ms. Vincent smiled weakly. “You’re a good man, Constantine. Now get outta here. I need to see my boy.”

Single file, we left the room, Dr. Byron taking Ms. Vincent to one bay of elevators, and Vanessa and I heading toward the ones I came up in with Hennessy.

With both arms wrapped around herself, she seemed to be drawing in and shutting me out. I didn’t like it. I didn’t question why that was. We stepped into the elevator, the silver doors shutting quietly before she spoke.

“I can call a cab. You don’t need to bother yourself with taking me home.”

I wasn’t about to let her push me away. I slammed a fist against the red ‘Stop’ button, and she jolted when the elevator stilled.

“What are you doing?”

“You really fucking think I’m going to put your ass in a cab and send you home alone?”

Her hands chafed her arms, as though trying to warm herself.

I stepped closer, backing her into a corner. I wasn’t sure how long it would be before the stopped elevator attracted attention, so I knew I had to make my point fast.

“You ain’t leaving this building except with me. You ain’t leaving the parking lot except with me. You ain’t spending the night with anyone but me. You seeing the pattern here, princess?”

My words had the desired effect—they brought some life back to her. She shoved against my chest. “You can’t order me around, goddammit. I…I…will not be ordered around.”

And then my plan backfired.

She burst into tears and sank to the floor. She’d hit her limit.

Shit.

I reached down and scooped her up into my arms. I jabbed the button with my elbow and readjusted her so I could whisper directly in her ear.

“Baby, you scared the hell out of me tonight. I could’ve lost you. Right now is not a good time to ask me to let you out of my sight. I can’t do it. I need you next to me so I know you’re safe.”

She hiccupped through her tears, and her nails dug into my shoulders as she held on.

“But Trey—”

I held her tighter against me and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Shhh…It’s gonna be okay. Trey’s gonna pull through. He’s tough. He’s a fighter.”

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened. Her crying quieted, and she clung to me as I stepped out into the deserted lobby. I’d just crossed the threshold and exited the hospital when I remembered I had my fucking bike. Shit. I couldn’t put her on the back of it. Not in this state.

I spied a bench and stopped in front of it. “Gotta set you down for a minute, babe. To call a cab.”

Her luminous blue eyes darted up to mine, confused. “You changed your mind?”

I lowered her as I replied, “What? No. Just can’t put you on my bike. Should’ve driven the Tahoe. But I didn’t think beyond getting here as fast as I could.”

Once she was seated, I reached into my pocket, palming my phone. I kept my attention on her even as I scanned through my contacts to find the cab company I normally used. Vanessa swiped at the remains of her tears with the side of her hand and seemed to pull herself together.

“Don’t. It’s okay. The bike is fine. I’m not going to fall off.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. This is easier.”

I found the number and was about to initiate the call when she pushed off the bench and stood.

“What—”

I didn’t get the rest of my question out before she marched off toward the parking lot.

The fuck?

“Vanessa, wait.”

She didn’t bother to turn, just kept walking toward my bike—which was still parked in the clergy spot I’d nabbed. I was happy to see they weren’t towing people at this hour. Either that or security bought the idea of a clergyman riding a Harley.

I hurried after her, catching up to her just before she grabbed the helmet off the seat. “What are you doing?”

Her lips were compressed, her brow furrowed, and her jaw set. Determined. Mulish, even. “I want to ride the goddamn bike. So let’s go.”

I wasn’t going to argue with the woman. It was damn near four AM, and I wasn’t going to win. I wasn’t even going to try.

“Fine. Get on. I’ll buckle your helmet.”

She didn’t ask where we were going, and I didn’t offer. There was only one place that seemed right. So I pointed the bike back toward the lake house.

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