It seemed to take forever to reach the medevac chopper and get him situated so the medics could start emergency treatment.
There was talk of blood transfusion and oxygen levels, but it was all a jumbled blur for Aberlour. His attention remainedsolely on Oli as he sat next to his head and held his hand. All the while, Oli struggled to maintain eye contact.
“We’re almost home, O,” Aberlour said encouragingly, trying to sound convincing.
Oli didn’t speak. The corners of his mouth pulled slightly in the ghost of a smile before—
“Oliver!” Aberlour cried out as his eyes drifted closed and he went limp.
Marcus threw his arms around Aberlour to keep him from jumping onto the gurney as the medics began resuscitation procedures.
The setting, along with the nervous hum running through his veins made the situation all too familiar to Aberlour. Except this time, instead of Carlos lying on an operating room table, it was Darling.
His Darling.
Aberlour stumbled to the nearest trashcan and emptied his stomach, not for the first time. All that came out were the two sips of coffee he’d managed to swallow—the rest was all grief and worry, which crawled right back into him as he straightened up. When he stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he caught Ghost’s inquisitive look but looked away.
The medevac chopper had flown them straight to the US military hospital in Ramstein, Germany, where a team of four trauma surgeons instantly whisked Oliver off to get him stabilized and begin operating on him. That had been eight hours ago.
Everyone but Aberlour had come and gone from the waiting room. He’d parked his ass in one of the hard plastic chairs and refused to move until they got news—any news—about Oliver’s condition. The Major General issued a summons, but Aberlour had flat out refused to see him. Worried that Aberlour was putting their careers at risk by defying a direct order, Marcus hastily agreed to go in his place.
Aberlour had no doubts whatsoever that there would be consequences for his disobedience. But he just couldn’t find a single fuck to give while Oliver was just down the hall from the waiting room, fighting for his life while the trauma team was doing everything possible to save him. Every painful thud of his heart told him he had to stay right there, and that somehow, some way, Oliver might know he was there, waiting for him to come back to him. Nothing else in this world mattered. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
“You should get some sleep.” JD had just walked into the room, looking a lot better than he had a couple of hours ago. He offered Abe a bottle of water.
“I’m fine,” he answered curtly, refusing to take the water.
“Fuck off!” Carlos growled angrily. Everyone turned to face him, looking surprised at his outburst. He’d come and gone a few times, growing increasingly haggard each time.
“Excuse me?” Aberlour gave him a chance to retract his comment.
Abruptly, Ghost sat up in his chair, looking back and forth between them, prepared to intervene.
“Oli nearly died. You’re not fine! Stop trying to push us away. You’re not fine, Abe! You haven’t beenfinesince he hooked up with Abby!”
All eyes turned towards Aberlour. Waiting—for confirmation, information, a breakdown—something. Something Aberlour couldn’t give them. He gritted his teeth in frustration.
Wordlessly, he snatched the bottle of water out of JD’s hand and turned away, blatantly ignoring his team.
“Fucker!” Carlos snarled.
About two hours later, the waiting room door opened. Aberlour leaped out of his chair, thinking it might be one of the medical team coming in to give them an update. His heart hammered away in his chest in anticipation. But in walked none other than that fucking Abigail, instead.
His knees nearly gave out on him from sick disappointment.
She’d been crying and was an absolute mess. Her hair, her make-up, her outfit were in total disarray. She looked like a torn-up Barbie doll. Making a beeline for Aberlour, she fell into his arms, sobbing and blubbering incoherently.
“How is he?” Finally managing to speak clearly, she pulled back, looked up at him, and then glanced around the room.
Aberlour simply stared down at her in shock. None of this made any sense. How she could be here, at all, and even worse, why in the fucking hell did she have to collapse inhisarms?
The overwhelming urge to lift her up and throw her across the room was sudden but not unwarranted. As if sensing Aberlour was mere seconds away from doing exactly that, Ghost rushed over and pulled her away from Aberlour.
“We don’t know yet,” Ghost said, voice low and soothing, running his hands up and down her arms gently.
“What happened?” She looked stressed as she waited for someone to fill her in on the details.
“An accident,” JD said, shooting Aberlour a worried glance. They couldn’t tell her anything. She shouldn’t even be here.
