He waited.
It rang again.
Come on, baby. Pick up!
It rang a third time and then, “You’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. Ellena Dawson.” Gabe’s chest tightened, her sweet voice stealing every ounce of oxygen in his lungs. “I’m unable to come to the phone right now, but if you’ll leave your name, number, and a brief message, I’ll return your call as soon as possible. If this is a medical or mental health emergency, please hang up and dial nine-one-one.”
Gabe held his breath. As he waited for the beep, he tried not to think about the fact that these would be the first words she’d hear from him since he’d walked away from her years before.
“Take care of yourself, Elle. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
That was the last thing he’d said to her. It was what he always told her when his SEAL team would leave for an op. That and…I love you.
But Gabe hadn’t said those three little words when he’d left for the last time. Not because they weren’t true. They would always be true.
Until the day I die.
Gabe had purposely chosen not to tell Ellena he loved her right before he walked away because he knew she no longer believed him.
Wrapped up in the particularly shitty memory, he nearly missed the beep’s end. Gabe swallowed hard and began to speak.
“Hey, Elle. It’s me.” He cleared the trembling fear from his throat and spoke quickly. “Listen, I know it’s been a long time, and this is going to sound crazy, but I think you’re in danger.” God, he hated to just blurt that shit out. Mumbling a curse, he ran a hand over his salt and pepper scruff before continuing, “I’m sorry to drop this on you out of the blue, and I promise I’m not trying to scare you, but…look, I’ll explain more when I get there, okay? I’m leaving Dallas tonight, and I’ll call you as soon as I land. Do me a favor and don’t go anywhere. Keep your doors locked and don’t answer them or the phone unless it’s me. Call me when you get this.” Because he knew how much she hated being bossed around, Gabe added a quick, “Please.”
He barely got the message out before the phone beeped again, ending the recording. Rushing down the short hallway to his room, Gabe frantically began to pack.
Uncaring of how wrinkled his wadded-up clothes would be, he filled the large duffle with enough to last a week, along with all the necessary toiletries. He was zipping it closed when his phone began to ring.
Heart pounding, he snatched the phone from his mattress and answered it on the first ring.
“Ellena?” He was met with silence.
Frowning, Gabe held the phone away and looked at the screen. The area code matched hers, but the call was from a number he didn’t recognize.
He put the phone back to his ear. “Hello?” He spoke a little louder.
“Uh, yes. Is this Gabriel Dawson?”
His heart sunk. The female voice on the other end of the call didn’t belong to his Elle.
She’s not yours anymore, remember?
Ignoring the annoying prick-of-a-voice, Gabe answered the woman. “That’s me.”
“Mr. Dawson, my name is Amy Hallowell. I’m an emergency room nurse calling from the Naval Medical Center in San Diego.”
It was the same hospital where Ellena works. Except Ellena worked on the mental health floor, and this woman had said emergency room.
A ball of dread settled in Gabe’s stomach. “Yes?”
“Sir, I’m calling because Ellena Dawson was brought in as a patient a few hours ago, and you are listed in her chart as the person to contact in case of an emergency.”
“Is she okay?”
“Sir, Ellena was in a pretty bad car accident. She’s currently unconscious and listed in serious but stable condition.”
Ah, God.
Gabe grabbed his suitcase from the bed and raced down the hallway. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Walker’s warning ran through his head. “Donotlet anyone other than hospital personal in her room.”
