Slamming her forehead into mine, she drags herself up, heading for the helicopter and I get a fistful of her skirt, pulling as hard as I can, screaming, on my knees and swinging her around by her dress and her hips hit the railing. She topples over it. And she’s gone.
There’s people around me, all talking and waving their hands. I watch their mouths move as Logan carefully cleans the blood off me. “I think your nose is broken, love.”
“Uh-huh.”
Losing your hearing completely isn’t silence. It’s an absence. A void where something should be.
I know I said something. My vocal chords vibrated and my lips moved. But there’s nothing else.
He cups my face. “What? What is it? We’re gonna get ye treated and X-rays and get everything-”
“It’s gone.”
His brow furrows. “What’s gone, love?”
“My hearing. It’s gone. All of it.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
In which there is hope, and family.
Logan…
She looks so small, lying there in the hospital bed.
Bella’s face is a mosaic of blues and purples, while her nose wasn’t broken, she has one hell of a concussion.
I would give everything I have, I would’ve given my life to have reached her before that bitch landed her first punch. I should have shot Astrid first. But then the bodyguard would have shot Bella and…
“Mr. MacTavish? I’m Dr. Waterstone. Dr. Graham asked me to come in for a consultation for your wife’s condition.”
“Aye.” Rubbing my eyes, I force myself to concentrate. I’ve been with Bella since we flew home and I brought her to the hospital here in Glasgow. It’s been a couple of days, I think. I’m smelling pretty bad, like sweat and blood and gunpowder, but he dinnae seem to notice.“Let’s go out in the hall, I dinnae want to wake her. She hasn’t slept much.”
His smile is kind and veering toward sympathetic, but it drops when I narrow my eyes and crowd him out into the corridor. Hamish steps over to the doorway, taking my place. We took over most of this floor of the hospital, and the waiting room is cluttered with MacTavishes.
Bella’s friend Meera is glaring at me, knitting something with wickedly sharp needles, and explaining to Kenna how to make a proper souffle. The womanisa multi-tasker. Uncle Lachlan is teaching Meera’s fourteen-year-old son how to wire a bomb with a hair clip and some string.
Sloan and Luna are talking some kind of baby shite about nurseries. Carol only got a mild sedative on the boat, so she recovered right away and she visits every few hours to check on Bella. My brother refused to leave once we got Bella here, and he’s just as smelly as I am. Mason did leave. He returned, though, freshly showered and wearing a three-piece suit.
Mum and Da stand up quickly. They’ve been waiting with me for the test results. “We’re hoping for some good news, Dr. Waterstone.” My mother’s smile is shaky as she tucks her arm around my waist.
“I’ve gone through the most recent testing, the MRI, the CT scan, and the auditory brainstem response. First things first, that concussion is nasty. But…” He flips his iPad over, showing us a graph. “I believe, and Dr. Graham agrees, that the hearing occlusion caused by the brain trauma can reverse.”
“Her hearing can come back?” I ask hoarsely. “It can- she could- something? Anything?”
“Her condition is irreversible, but you know that. And this concussion will likely hasten the degeneration of the auditory nerve. But I believe that she will still have a few more months, a year at most before there is a complete loss.”
“Time for more sounds to put in her treasure box.” I mumble, running my hand over my face. I walk away, leaving my parents to talk to the doctor and I go back to Bella. Crawling into bed with her, I watch her beautiful, bruised face until her eyes finally open.
“Hey.” Her voice is the same, sweet, and strong. “How long have ye been lying here, staring at me like a creep?”
I prop myself up on my elbow so she can see me clearly. “I dinnae know, to be honest. How are ye feeling, love?”
She’s watching my lips closely. “I wish I could have heard ye say ‘I love ye’ just once.” Her voice cracks a bit. “But thank ye for signing it.”
“I will say I love ye three hundred and twenty-seven times a day,” I promise. “I would like to hear it from ye as well. If you’re feeling the same way.”
“I love ye. I love, love, and love ye. So much.” Her eyes fill with tears and it’s tearing my fecking heart out. “I wish I could hear it though. Just one time.”
