Dark Love (The Two Sides of Me Book 3) (19 page)

Peeking over my shoulder I see Isaac’s attention is elsewhere, talking on the phone, so I take the opportunity to snatch the cuffs and stow them in the bedside table. Evan lifts his heavy eyelids open just a sliver and watches my movements absently, he most likely is hallucinating with a temp that high, so I speak in a soothing voice and tell him everything I’m doing.

“Hey baby, you’re sick, I’m gonna help ya out here a little until the doc gets here, ok?” A blank stare is all I get, but I continue with my monologue and he’s got an IV going and a dose of IV acetaminophen to help bring the fever down a little.

“We need to move him, I’ll go get a gurney and Mr. Saint to help, you should put the hand…” he glances at the headboard “Never mind.” Well,
that answers that question, he saw the handcuffs, shit. It’s hard to read Isaac, I can’t tell if he’s hurt, worried, angry and if angry at who, Evan or me?

As usual I don’t have time to think about it any longer, we have work to do. By the time I’ve taken Evan’s blood pressure and pulse, put an oxygen mask on and hooked him up to a portable tank in the duffle, Isaac and Saint are at the door with a gurney followed by Cecelia who is in a panic. The men work efficiently together moving Evan, strapping him in and snapping the gurney up so they can push him through the door.

“What happened? He looks so sick.” Cecelia says wringing her hands together with worry. “He’s going to be fine; it’s a fever probably caused by an infection. The doctors are coming.” I rub my hand up and down her back trying to comfort her. Wave after wave of guilt pummels me like ocean waves during a storm; this is my fault. I should have been stronger, more insistent, more…domineering is the word that comes to mind after a long night of thoughts on that particular subject. It dawns on me that it wouldn’t have mattered what I did or said, he was going to do what he was going to do and if I hadn’t gone along with it, he would have figured out a way to make me, he’s a natural DOM.

I still feel guilty, but that realization eases it a little. Dr. Carmichael is waiting downstairs for us. Damn, that was quick! He couldn’t have been too far from the house to make it here in that time. He joins our parade toward the elevator and begins asking me questions, quizzing me on his activities, medications and any possible reasons for the infection. I admit he’s been overexerting but taking his meds and hasn’t had any signs of infection until his morning. The doctor hmm’s and nods his head listening to my assessment.

“He should be at the hospital, you know?” he says.

“Yes, I know,” I say

“He told me not to take him there unless he was two minutes from death though, did you know that’s what he wanted?” What? He never said anything like that to me!

“No, he didn’t. But I can’t say it surprises me, he hates hospitals.”

“Did you draw some blood for lab work?”

“Yes, yes when I started his IV, I’ve got them here somewhere.” I search the pockets of my sweatshirt for the tubes of blood and hand them over to him.

“Does he have any lab equipment?” Isaac answers for me

“He has everything you’ll need aside from a CT scanner.” Dr. Carmichael’s brows lift in surprise. “Impressive and obsessive.” That describes my husband perfectly in two simple words.

“You can say that again.”

The guys get Evan all situated in the hospital bed, where he should have been all along, and Dr. Carmichael starts working on his labs.

“You should call Gabriella and Simone, do you want me to?” Isaac asks and places his hand on the back of my neck, too intimately.

“No, I’ve got it, that’s ok.” I expect him to move away, but he doesn’t. Holding steadfast he makes no indication that he’s leaving or moving his hand. This wouldn’t bother me if I hadn’t been told just days ago that he was in love with me, we’re friends, and friends comfort each other in times of need, but it’s different now. I pull my phone from my sweatshirt and make the calls.

Gabby’s worried, she’s coming, but Simone is at work. How am I going to explain all of this? I mean it’s not my fault he’s developed an infection, but I do take some blame for not listening to the doctor when we left the hospital.

I take Evan’s hand and talk to him about nothing important, just mindless chatter. I feel like I’m not doing enough, but there isn’t anything to do until we know more. Isaac is called away by Mr. Saint, probably to tell him to knock it off with the touching. I can hear the loud clunk clunk of Dr. Carmichael’s cowboy boots as he approaches from behind me.

“When did you say he began to get sick, Mrs. Lawson.”

“Call me Mia, please. And he was ok around 4 a.m. when I gave him some pain meds and his other scheduled medications. But I took a sleeping pill and didn’t wake until this afternoon, and that’s when I found him like this.” I gesture toward my husband.

“That’s good, we caught it quickly, so far he doesn’t have any organs shutting down. His kidneys aren’t functioning as well as they should, has he been drinking plenty of water?”

Now that he asks, no, he hasn’t been drinking much at all, what a horrible nurse I am.

“Not really.” I’m ashamed that I haven’t been keeping better track of something so simple.

“It’s not your fault; he does what he wants, regardless of the consequences.” Now that sounds like he knows Evan better than I thought.

“Have you known him long?”

“Yes, I’m the one who initially found his tumor. I couldn’t remove it though, and I sent him on to other doctors who told him the same thing.” Ahh, that makes sense.

“So do you think he will be ok here instead of the hospital?” Evan fusses in the bed and I swear he says ‘no.' The doctor shakes his head, rolling his eyes at my husband’s incredible stubbornness.

“I think we can handle it here, I’ve called for the proper antibiotics, as soon as he has those I believe he will completely recover.” Evan raises h
is hand to try and remove the oxygen mask, but he’s too weak, his arm flops back to its place beside him.

“He’s too obstinate to die. I bet he outlives us all.” Harsh but true, the doctor doesn’t sugar coat things; I like that.

“I’d have to agree and I’m damn glad he’s such a fighter,” I say,

“He’s different now, he’s different with you.” I smile a weak grateful smile at his compliment.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Me? Just tired.”

“Take care of yourself, God knows you have your hands full with him.” I snort in agreement. “I’ve left instructions on the counter for his IV antibiotics, something for pain and repeat labs. I trust you will be the one handling all of that?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Isaac has gone after the antibiotics, start them right away and keep me updated on his condition. I’m staying close by if you need me I can be here in a few minutes.”

“I noticed you got here fast, do you live close by?”

“No. Evan has me in a hotel.” He hired a neurosurgeon to be at his beck and call?! He never ceases to surprise me.

“Oh, well ok then.” He looks at me knowingly; he senses I’ve not been filled in on some things, some very important things. Always trying to keep me from worrying, we have to have a little talk when he’s feeling better.

“You can stay here in the house if you like, Dr. Carmichael, I know about your arrangement now, there’s no sense in your living out of a hotel, and we have everything you need here.”

“Ahh well…” I’ve surprised him with my offer, but I’d like to have him here actually. “I’d feel better if you stayed.” I give him my best damsel in distress eyes, and he agrees straight away.

As a nurse I’ve found doctors like to feel invaluable, most are a little egocentric and stroking their ego is the best way to manipulate them into agreeing with you.

“Of course, I’ll just go and collect my things and return.”

“Great! I’ll have Cecelia prepare you a room. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome; I’ll see you soon then.”

“Ok, bye.” He clunks to the elevator and presses the button. “You remember how to get out?” I ask,

“Oh yes, I’ve been here many times. I know my way out.” his words are laced with a sort of sorrow or regret, and I wonder why he’s been here often. Another mystery to unravel, will it ever end? The elevator dings and Dr. Carmichael is gone.

“Mia.” Evan croaks from behind me.

“Oh hey there, baby, I’m right here don’t worry. We’re getting you all fixed up; you’re gonna be fine.” I take his hand and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He’s not really with it; he must have just called out for me in his dazed state of mind. I caress his cheek and hold my hand there until he is still again, he feels a little cooler. How do we keep ending up here, one of us nursing the other back to health? I’m beginning to think it’s a curse; one of us must always be in crisis. The elevator doors open again and Cecelia and Isaac step out both with arms full, Cecelia’s with a tray of food and Isaac with new bags of IV fluid and antibiotics.

“Hey.” I greet them

“Hey, any change?” Isaac asks tossing me a bag to hang.

“He’s cooler but still out of it.” I stand and spike the bag right away, the sooner we start this,
the sooner he’s better.

“I brought you something to eat, Mia.” Cecelia places the tray next to me on a table.”

“Oh, I hadn’t even thought to eat.” Actually my stomach is a little sour, and the smell of the food makes it churn and roll, God, I hate throwing up and now’s a really bad time. Maybe that’s why Dr. Carmichael was asking if I felt ok? Crap, I’ll bet I look like shit with my hair a mess from last night's activities, no makeup and in a sweatshirt and jeans. I wrinkle my nose at the food, and my mouth starts to water, no, no, no!

“Ms. Mia, are you ok?” Cecelia asks. I clasp my hand over my mouth pushing her aside rushing to the sink where bitter bile burns my throat and nose as I heave. I haven’t eaten in a long time; there’s nothing in my stomach to vomit.

God, now I really think we are cursed, but this time both ships are sinking. “Mia, shit, are you sick?” Isaac has hurried to my side and is holding my hair back while I pant and grip the counter waiting to be sure the retching is over. I feel a trickle of sweat run down between my shoulder blades and into the crack of my ass.

“Ahh, I’m sorry.” I swallow a few times and conclude that it’s over, for now.

“What are you apologizing for?” Isaac asks rubbing small circles on my back; the sensation intensifies the nausea.

“I didn’t know you were sick, Mia; I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t know either, Cecelia, it’s fine, just a bug I’m sure.” I turn and prop my backside against the counter scrubbing my face with my hands. Isaac reaches around me and turns on the faucet to wash my puke down the drain.

“Do you feel better now?” Isaac asks while Cecelia covers the food on the tray with a towel.

“No, not really. Maybe Evan isn’t septic; maybe we have the same thing?” Isaac presses the back of his hand against my forehead.

“No, you’re not hot, and his lab work confirms sepsis. We need to get you into bed.” Cecelia nods in agreement.

“I can’t leave him, he’s gonna freak out if he wakes up without me, again… I have to stay with him,” I argue

“Mia, listen to me.” He holds me by the shoulders, bending to look me directly in the eyes. I cover my mouth to protect him from my puke breath.

“I can give him his meds, and you can’t be here putting him at risk of catching whatever you have,” I growl in frustration, he’s right, I have to go.

“Can you turn on the security cameras in our room so I can see him?” I ask softly behind my hand. Isaac smiles.

“Of course, come on, I’ll put you to bed.”

“I will get rid of this. Is there something else I can get for you, Mia?”

“No, please
nothing.” I grit my teeth at the thought of food. “But we can’t leave him alone down here.”

“I will take you to bed and come back for the food.” Cecelia offers.

“No, Cecelia I’ve got her.” She has no medical training as far as I know, no way; I’m not leaving him with her.

“I’m ok, I can make it myself. Cecelia, I almost forgot, Dr. Carmichael is coming to stay with us. Can you get a room ready for him?” That will give her something to do so I don’t have to come right out and say ‘I don’t trust you to watch Evan.'