"I just want to take you to a place where we can talk before you see her."
"Is she alive? Is she dying? What the fuck is going on? No one's told me a thing, dammit, and I want to know if she's okay!" All of the fear and frustration that had been building in Clay since he'd gotten the call—the first call five years ago—came into play, and Jay just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But even though he was older, he was at least as big as Clay was, and he was able to guide the younger man to an unused cubicle where they could both sit down.
His voice breaking as he sank into an uncomfortable orange plastic chair, Clay said, "If she's dead, man, just tell me. Don't drag it out."
"She's not dead, Clay. She's not dead." His tone was soft and quiet.
With tears in his eyes, Clay pinned Jay with his gaze. "Yet? Is there a 'yet' coming?"
"No, she is not in any immediate danger of dying. But I'm not going to lie to you. She's badly busted up, and all I want to do before you see her is prepare you. She's got a lot of tubes and wires coming out of various parts of her, and she's bruised and swollen everywhere. I think you could safely touch her left elbow, but that's about it right now. She went through the windshield, and was found about twenty feet away. She has broken ribs, a broken right arm, road rash on her face, a broken ankle and a concussion. She's going to be here for a little while."
Clay nodded, relief flooding through his body and making him feel weak as a kitten. "What happened, do you know?"
"Someone ran a red light—or what they're saying was a yellow light. He was in an SUV, and she—"
"Drives a little rattletrap cracker box," Clay interrupted, punching himself mentally because he hadn't replaced that awful thing for her, despite any protests she might have voiced.
"Yeah."
Clay ran his hand over his face and into his hair. "I want to see her."
"Follow me. But you can't stay."
"Of course I'm staying. As long as she needs me."
Jay held open the curtains to an exam room in the corner. When Clay first saw her, he wanted to start crying again, but didn't, in case she was awake. He didn't want her to become frightened if she saw him bawling all over her.
She was swathed in casts and bandages from head to foot; there wasn't much left for the gorgeous hospital johnnie to cover. Her face was swollen and bruised between the bandages, and he could see spots where the blood from the road rash cuts and scrapes had bled through. Her arm and opposite leg were in casts, and her eyes were closed. At least, he thought her eyes were closed. Her face was so swollen that it was hard to tell.
As if he knew what Clay was thinking, Jay said, "She's had some pain meds, so she's probably asleep. If you're gonna stay, then I'll have the nurse bring you a chair."
Clay wasn't paying him one bit of attention. His eyes were for the patient. Jay sighed and remained in place for a second. "West. Is she related to April?"
"Sister."
Jay nodded. "I'll be keeping an eye on her. She's going to be admitted, and the both of you will be more comfortable there."
Clay didn't notice whether or not he left. Jay had been right, though. About the only place he could touch her skin was her left elbow, which was exactly where he put his hand, feeling the warmth of her skin, and hoping that his touch would help her know she wasn't alone.
"I'm right here, honey. It's Clay. I'm right beside you, and you're gonna be fine. Sleep all you can, baby. It's good for you, and it'll help you heal. I'll be right here when you wake up, I promise." He tried to keep his voice as steady as he could, but it was a real struggle.
A tall, thin woman in a nurse's uniform appeared with a chair, and Clay barely thanked her before sinking down into it and resuming his former position.
He stayed that way for hours, until she finally began to stir, moaning with each movement. Clay was instantly at her head, and although he itched to touch her he didn't, for fear he would accidentally hurt her. "Sh-shh-shhh, sweetie. It's okay. It's Clay. I'm right here."
Those green eyes opened—barely—and seemed to be only slightly fuzzy. "Cl…ay?" Her voice was raspy and uncertain.
"Yes, baby, I'm right here." He leaned toward her, still excruciatingly careful not to touch her anywhere that might hurt, which seemed to be pretty much everywhere.
"Where am I?" she croaked.
"You're in the hospital, sweetpea. You had an accident."
"I did?"
"Yeah. But you're going to be fine."
"I am?"
"Yes, you are. And I'm going to be right here with you always, okay?"
She tried to nod, but that wasn't a good idea. Her yelp of pain made him start.