The old man in the bed must be in his sixties, his long gray beard matching the unkempt hair on his head. He looks worn out and a bit dirty, and his hands, which rest on the bed cover, are no different. One of them is held tightly by Carolina’s. He is just as out of it as her.
“Thank fuck.” I sigh, a wave of relief washing over me at the sight of her being okay.
“Who is this guy?” Clay’s brow furrows with curiosity.
“No idea, you recognize him?” Josh asks, turning to me, and I shake my head. He grabs the medical chart from the foot of the bed. “Howard Dough, seventy-three. Heart attack.”
“Is he related to her? Maybe her granddad?” Clay asks, rubbing his neck.
“I doubt she’d be in the mess she is if she had any family other than that scum,” I mutter.
Josh gestures to Clay, who moves closer to examine the file now too. “Should we get more info?” Clay nods, and Josh steps outside, presumably to make a call.
“What do we do?” Clay asks me.
“You guys do whatever. I’m getting her home,” I declare.
“You’ll wake her up,” Clay cautions, a hint of worry in his voice.
I move closer, gently straightening her out before bending down and wrapping her arms around my neck. I scoop my hands under her thighs, right under her beautiful butt, and lift her, cradling her against me.
She stirs briefly, taking a deep breath against my neck before settling back into sleep.
“Time to head home, pumpkin,” I murmur, nuzzling her hair.
Clay leads the way, holding the doors open for us.
THIRTY-NINE
My girl is fierce.
Gently, I run my fingers through her sleek, black hair. She might be small, but she’s anything but fragile.
I’m sitting on our bed, propped against the headboard, with her head nestled in my lap. The guys ran a background check on Howard, and what they found sounds like a sad joke.
Howard Dough was a well-known and loved philosophy professor. He and his wife, Mary, worked at the same university, she being a chemistry professor. Eight years ago, there was an explosion in the lab Mary worked in. She was hurt badly and passed away a few days later in the hospital. Howard made it onto the local news because he was furious at the university. He believed that the university’s greed and disregard for safety were directly responsible for the accident that cost Mary her life. He wanted justice for his wife and filed a lawsuit against the university. The court ruled in favor of the university, and Howard lost the case. He resigned from his position and eventually ended up living on the streets.
I really need to understand how he fits into her life. It’s clear he means a lot to her. That’s why Clay and Josh went back tothe hospital—to get answers and make sure we know everything about his health for when Carolina wakes up.
A few moments pass with me just stroking her head, memorizing her pretty features and freckles, when she suddenly moves, sitting up swiftly, her gaze darting around until our eyes lock. “Is he dead? Did he die?” Her voice trembles, her eyes fill with tears, and her breathing becomes erratic.
I cup her face in my hands. “No, pumpkin, he’s all right. He’s still in the hospital, and Clay and Josh are finding out more. But he’s alive, and he’s being taken care of, okay?”
“He just… he just collapsed right in front of me. I tried to help him, tried to do CPR, but I didn’t know how, and I…”
Was he just a stranger who collapsed in front of her?But that wouldn’t shake her up this much, would it?
“It’s okay. Breathe with me,” I coax, taking exaggerated breaths, hoping she’ll mimic me. But she seems to be spiraling further into panic.
“I can’t handle this without him. I need him.” She gasps, her wide eyes locked onto mine.
Nope, definitely not just a stranger.
I pull her close, positioning her so she’s seated between my legs, leaning back against my chest. “Breathe, Carolina.”
“I… I can’t…” She wheezes.
Glancing over, I spot some markers and a notepad on my nightstand. I grab the markers, laying them on her lap. Then, I pull up the sleeve of my hoodie, exposing my tattooed forearm. “Color in my tattoos.”
