Chapter twenty-eight
Tori
Thank God Willow is with me when I get the call.
“Hewhat? Oh my God.” My hands start to shake as I listen to Kat tell me over the phone that Sawyer was hit by a car while at work a few hours ago. I didn’t think I had any more tears left in me, but somehow, more well up as she manages to calmly share that he had surgery to repair a broken leg and is now awake. “Thanks for telling me,” I manage to get out before hanging up, my phone falling to my lap.
“Woman, you better fucking tell me what’s going on before I jump into panic mode,” Willow demands.
“Sawyer’s in the hospital,” I whisper, dashing away the tears on my cheeks. “He had surgery. I…I need to go to him. I can’t…” I break on a sob, and Willow pulls me sideways into her arms.
“I know, honey. I know. But he’s okay, right? He’s okay, and we’ll get you to him, and everything will be fine.”
Somehow, I pull myself together enough to grab my purse and keys, which Willow promptly takes out of my hand. “As if I’m letting you drive right now.”
Westport really isn’t that far away, but at this moment, driving to Sawyer without knowing what I’ll find when I see him feels like it’s too far and yet not far enough. I have no idea if I’ll be welcome at his side or if he’ll push me away.
But I need to see him. I need to know he’s alright. Then, if he wants me to go, I’ll leave.
Willow pulls up to the main entrance of Westport General Hospital and gestures to the doors. “Go find your man.”
I should be rushing to get out of the car. Instead, I’m frozen. “What if I’m too late. What if I pushed him away and he’s decided I’m not worth the trouble.”
“Then he’s not the man either one of us thought he was. You’ll see that he’s alive, and you’ll leave, and we’ll go back home and drink margaritas and denounce all men.” She leans across me and opens the car door. “But you won’t know if that’s the truth or just a really shitty story you’re making up in your head if you don’t go in there and find him.”
I gulp down a deep breath and give her a feeble nod. “Strong margaritas?”
“The strongest.”
I get out of the car and walk through the sliding glass doors of the hospital. Kat said he was on the orthopedic surgery ward, so I follow the signs through the halls that smell of cleaner and that unmistakable hospital aroma. The elevator ride up to the fourth floor gives me enough time to psych myself up to see Sawyer again. When I reach the nursing station, I realize I forgot to ask Kat which room he’s in. It turns out, I didn’t need to because I hear an achingly familiar voice, yet not the one I want to hear, call my name.
“Hey Tori, over here.”
I turn to Beckett, who’s come to a stop outside of a room, a cup of water in his hand.
His face is unreadable, so naturally, I start to overthink everything. Is he angry that I’m here right now? Does he know I ended things with Sawyer?
“I should warn you, he’s pretty doped up right now. Apparently, when they moved him to the ward, they realized his IV line wasn’t working, so they removed it. But when they went to re-insert, he panicked. They weren’t prepared for a grown-ass man to be so terrified of needles.” Beckett shakes his head. “They gave him some sort of short-acting sedative a few minutes ago, and I think they’re about to try again.”
I give him a nod but can’t find words to say as I follow him into the room. Max and Heidi are there, both in scrubs, indicating they’re on shift right now as well. Heidi walks over and gives me a hug, while Max flashes me a quick smile from beside Sawyer. I drag my eyes over to the hospital bed and the man lying on it, who’s currently got his eyes half closed and a dopey expression on his face.
“Angelllll,” he slurs. “You came.” His head droops to one side, as if his neck is nothing more than a limp noodle.
Beckett snorts to hide a laugh, I’m guessing, as Max shakes his head. I approach the bed slowly, and his head rolls upright again as he blinks his eyes open.
“Hi.” I look him over, taking in the scrape on his forehead and the bandage covering what I assume is the old IV site on his arm. His leg is propped up, the blankets off it for now, revealing a bulky cast.
“Hi.” He giggles. “I’m soooo happy you’re here. You should always be here, okay? Like, always.”
I glance over at Max. “Is this normal?”
He shakes his head with a low chuckle. “Not exactly, but we never really know how someone will react to medications. And Sawyer here has clearly never had Ativan.”
A hand tugs at mine, and I look back to see Sawyer trying to lift it, I assume to kiss it the way he likes to, except he keeps missing and kissing the air instead.
I suppose it’s better than him immediately kicking me out of the room, even if I don’t quite trust his actions right now. After all, will he still be as happy to see me when the sedation wears off?
A nurse chooses that moment to walk in. “Alright, the Ativan should be working, shall we try this again?” She looks to Max. “Are you and your brother willing to help restrain him?”
