Ally was determined to stay calm and remain positive. But as the curtain surrounding his bed was pulled aside, revealing the full extent of what Jack had been through, she was tempted to do the complete opposite.
Jack lay propped up on the bed, his previous bruises blending into insignificance faced with the cuts and bruises that now marked his face. Ally shuddered as she slowly moved around the bed towards him. A padded bandage wound around the side of his head. What had done that? A boot? A fist? A weapon of some sort? She choked back tears as a hand squeezed her shoulder.
“Hey, come on. He’s gonna be okay,” Callum whispered.
Jack was pale, a cannula clipped to his nose and disappearing behind his ears. He looked like a rag doll that had been kicked around endlessly before finally being thrown on the scrap heap, unloved and unwanted.
Except he is wanted, and loved.
The realisation presented itself with such force, fighting its way up from the centre of her soul, that she felt light-headed. She took a moment to fight the sensation of falling. She wheeled forward, reaching for Jack’s hand and holding on tight. She willed him to squeeze back, to show some sign that he was with her in more than just body.
Outside the curtain, the emergency room buzzed with urgency as medical staff called out instructions and demanded answers as they went about the business of saving lives.
Inside the curtain however, all was quiet.
Callum glanced in the rear-view mirror as they drove away from the hospital. The cluster of buildings, dominated by a single, concrete, multi-storied structure that seemed to dwarf the surrounding area, loomed in the distance. A shiver crawled up his spine as he tore his gaze away from the building and tried to concentrate on the road ahead.
The landscape flew by as he barreled into the night. Ally sat silently in the passenger seat, her mind clearly somewhere else. He half expected her to tell him to slow down. She didn’t. In fact, she had barely said a word since they left the emergency room.
He glanced at his watch. Almost two o’clock in the morning and the adrenaline rush had begun to wear off. Fatigue slowly wrapped its warm arms around him and he struggled against the urge to give in. He didn’t see any sign of the car he had seen a few days prior, and convinced himself that after what happened to Jack, Jimmy and his henchman had probably high-tailed it out of town. Still, he was reluctant to leave Ally alone, knowing that they knew where she lived, and with the image of what they had done to Jack still so fresh in his mind.
Pulling into her driveway twenty minutes later, he killed the engine. The security light came on, bathing them in cool, white light, and he glanced over at her.
“Do you mind if I crash on your couch tonight? I’m wrecked.”
She shook her head but other than that, made no move to get out of the car.
“How are you doing?” he asked. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
He followed her up the front path to the house. As she unlocked the door and let them in, he put his finger to his lips and urged her silently to stay put. She didn’t argue. He carefully checked each room in turn, just in case. Satisfied finally, he came back to the hallway to find her closing the front door and locking it.
“Sorry. I just wanted to be sure. After what happened tonight, well… y’know.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said quietly. “And thanks.”
“I don’t know about you, but I could really do with a drink. You got any whisky or anything lying around?”
“There’s some in the cabinet in the living room.”
He found the whisky and poured them each a healthy dose as she made herself comfortable in the armchair. Handing her a glass, he sank into the couch.
“I hate hospitals. Damn misery factories. Just the smell is enough to make me want to puke.”
“He didn’t even look like himself tonight,” she said quietly. “I hardly recognised him. Did I look like that, after the accident?”
He saw no reason to lie. “Not beat up like he is. In fact, you barely had a mark on you. That’s what made it so hard to believe, I think.”
What might’ve happened if she had been conscious throughout the accident and its aftermath? What if Jack had given her a choice that night? What if he had said, “Ally, I smell gas. I can either move you to safety or we can stay right here. What do you want me to do?” What would her answer have been?
He glanced over at her but she was staring into the glass in her lap. She seemed so far away from him.
“You know that saying, ‘everything happens for a reason’?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do you believe it?”
Too many holes in that theory for his liking. “Not really, no. Why, do you?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I do. Other times I’m not so sure.”
“Discuss,” he said simply, taking a swig of whisky while he waited for her to continue.
“I could’ve died that day, but you saved me.”