The words whispered through my brain. Quiet words, over and over, but they echoed with increasing strength.
I loved Ellie.
I was in love with Ellie.
How easy it was to finally admit that. And how ridiculous that I had fought it so hard before. Why? Because when other people had said the words, they hadn’t meant it? Because my father was a drunk and my family a disaster? Those were stupid reasons to run from the best thing that had ever happened to me. I loved her, and I was not going to waste another moment before I told her.
If only I could find her. I tried to get out of bed, but a burly orderly put me in a wheelchair instead and took me upstairs for a scan.
I looked for her as we moved through the hallways, but I didn’t see her. I heard her voice, though. She was talking in cool tones. The rhythms of her words were there, a steady counterpoint to other loud voices. Pops. Larry. When had they gotten here? I heard them talking but blocked them out.
Ellie was keeping them away, and I was so grateful. She was standing guard, protecting me.
The hours flew by in a kind of otherworld place. People talked to me, but I barely listened. If it wasn’t Ellie, then I didn’t care. The diagnosis was clear. I had a diaphragmatic rupture that had gotten infected. The tear had likely happened during the fire. I’d hit my ribs really hard on the railing. At the time, everyone had been worried about my ribs, but they’d heal. They hadn’t noticed the simple tear in the diaphragm beneath my ribs. In fact, it wouldn’t have even shown up on a scan. Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal. It would heal, given time.
Only I hadn’t given it the chance. I’d kept it from healing by working out too hard. By struggling with my father in a bar. By carrying his useless ass up the stairs to his bed. And then, eventually, it got infected. And even that wouldn’t have been such a big problem…unless it was ignored. Which is exactly what I had been doing.
I was given antibiotics. Narcotics for the pain. But what I really needed was Ellie.
Where was she?
I started to get upset. I had to see her, but the more I asked, the more nonsense I heard. She was doing paperwork. She was explaining things to my family. And most incredibly, she was talking to the hospital administrator.
What the hell? But every time I started fighting, someone would come in to talk to me. First it was nurses telling me to rest. Then it wasn’t just the ER doctor, but the team doc as well. I had to pay attention to him. He made me promise to rest for a day in the hospital until my fever came down. And then there would be more medical discussions. But everyone was clear—there was no threat to my baseball career. I’d be 100 percent fine once the infection cleared.
Great, but where was Ellie?
They transferred me to a hospital room where Gia was waiting. She wasn’t the woman I wanted to see. She said she’d keep the press away, that this wouldn’t be a story unless I wanted it to become one. I didn’t even bother to answer. I looked at her and said one word.
“Ellie.”
She sighed and shook her head. “She’s in trouble with her boss. She said she’d come as soon as she could.”
Damn it, that’s not what I wanted to hear. So I pushed back the sheet on the bed. Gia squeaked in alarm, but I was too busy looking for a way to unhook the IV from my arm. I wasn’t going to search the hospital while connected to that thing, and I also wasn’t going to do it with my bare ass hanging out of this gown.
“Where the hell are my clothes?”
“Get back in bed!” Gia snapped.
“Not until I talk to Ellie.”
“If you go wandering around looking for her, who do you think will get in trouble? She will, Jake. So get your ass back in bed.”
No way in hell. I had to see Ellie, but…damn it, I didn’t want to make things worse for her.
“What do you want to say to her, anyway?”
It was none of her business. I meant to tell her that, but instead, different words came out. Humiliating words, but the truth nevertheless.
“I don’t know!”
Well, that was idiotic, and Gia’s arched look told me she agreed.
“Find her,” I growled.
It took her a while, but eventually she nodded. “I will if you lie here and let the antibiotics do their job.” Then for emphasis, she pointed at a number on a monitor beside my bed: 101.3 degrees. Hell, is that why I felt like crap?
“You’ve got until it’s under a hundred,” I grumbled. “Then I’m going to find her and nobody will stop me.”
