Figuring it wasn’t doing any damn good to stand around, Brantley stepped into the large room, his gaze slowly moving until he could see Reese fully.
His heart thumped painfully hard as he gave him a visual assessment. Reese was connected to machines by a myriad of tubes and wires, all doing whatever it was they did to keep Reese comfortable and alive. As though that wasn’t bad enough, Reese looked like he’d gone ten rounds with a freight train. His face was battered and bruised. There was a gash over his left eye, held closed with a white butterfly bandage.
“Hey,” Cindy said softly when she looked up at him.
It was obvious she’d been crying and Brantley felt shitty for intruding on her moment.
“Brantley’s here now,” she said, turning back to Reese as she patted his hand gently. That, too, was bruised, his knuckles swollen and scraped. Looked like he’d gotten in a few good ones of his own.
Reese didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes.
Brantley couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest or the heat in his sinuses. Seeing Reese like this…
Cindy rose to her feet. “Why don’t I give you two some time. I’ll see if Hugh wants to grab a bite to eat. I figure it’ll be a long night.”
He nodded, unable to look away from Reese.
Once they were alone, Brantley moved toward the bed. Aware of the nurse in the hallway, Brantley knew better than to touch Reese. The man wouldn’t approve of anyone else knowing they’d had a relationship. So he simply pulled over a chair, eased into it, keeping a safe distance.
Brantley sat there, thinking of all the things he wanted to say but never speaking a word.
The night passed in a sleepless blur while Brantley remained in the hospital room with the beeping machines and the antiseptic smell. From time to time, he would stretch his legs, pace the room, return to his seat. Since the ICU had strict visiting hours, Z, Cindy, and RT were unable to come back, so he kept them updated via text message.
All the while, Reese remained unconscious in the bed, the machines continuing to do their job.
When the doctor came in, Brantley would get an update. When the nurse came in, glanced at the machines to read Reese’s vitals, wrote things down, slipped back out, he would simply exhale.
It wasn’t until shortly after dawn broke the next morning that Reese finally stirred.
Brantley had been snoozing in the chair at his bedside when he heard movement, opened his eyes to find Reese was looking at him, his eyes puffy and bruised like the rest of his face.
“Madison,” Reese said in a gruff whisper.
There was no denying the pain that ripped through his chest when he heard that name. Why he’d hoped Reese would think of him first, he didn’t know.
“I’m sure someone’ll call her,” he assured Reese, sitting up straight and stretching the kinks in his neck.
“No,” Reese said, his voice strained from lack of use. “Whereisshe?”
Brantley shrugged. “I don’t know if anyone knew to call her.”
Reese shook his head, his frustration evident. “They were there for her.”
“Who?”
Reese took a deep breath, winced. “They came for her. I told her to run.”
It took a second for the information to sink in.
“She’s missin’,” Reese choked out.
The nurse strolled in, a young woman who looked bright and chipper this morning. The complete opposite of the man who’d been in charge of Reese’s care through the night.
“Good morning, Mr. Tavoularis,” she greeted. “It’s good to see you’re awake.”
Reese barely gave her a second look, his full attention shifting to Brantley. “Where’s my phone?”
“Cell phones aren’t allowed in here,” the nurse told him with a smile, even as she gestured toward a large plastic bag. “Those are his personal effects.”
