Eight Days (Love Always #1.5) (7 page)

~*~

Kate is under constant supervision. If my father wants a nurse watching over her, that must mean he’s worried. Dad’s even been in Kate’s room more than his typical once every twenty-four hours. The rest of the time, he’s in his office. What the fuck is up with that? Why isn’t he doing something to fix her?

I’m sick of waiting for him. He’s had enough time. I may not know much about medicine, but I’m pretty damn sure that jacking her up on all these drugs is a shock to her system. Doc of the Year has spoken with the Browdys numerous times, but now
I
want answers.

I round the corner to the hallway that leads to his office. The door is cracked open, so I have no doubt he’s in there. The thought pisses me off even more. He’s a fucking oncologist. His job is to heal his patients, not sit on his ass in his damn office.

I shove the door open without knocking. As predicted, he’s behind his desk, staring at his computer screen. He glances up and wipes his brow like he’s been expecting this confrontation. Placing both hands on his desk, I lean forward.

“What’s wrong with Kate? Why haven’t you woken her up?” I demand.

He’s got the calm doctor thing going on, which only fuels the fire in me. He removes his glasses like he has all the time in the goddamn world.

“Damian, you know I can’t—”

I pound my hands on the wood. “I’m not in the mood for your doctor-patient confidentiality bullshit. Kate’s obviously not out of the woods if you have a fucking nurse stationed in her room.”

“Son, the rules have already been bent for you. You’ve been told more than you should about her situation, and I haven’t said anything about you staying in her room all night,” he says.

“Gee, thank you, king of the universe.”

“But,” he continues, ignoring me, “I can’t discuss this with you, no matter how much you care about her.”

“This isn’t about me.”

His eyebrows perk up. “Isn’t it?”

I don’t hesitate. “No. It’s about Kate. All the drugs she’s on are destroying her body.” I have no right to question my dad’s medical expertise, but I’m confident in my stance. I have to know that Kate will be okay.

He nods, like he’s actually considering what I said. “I know what I’m doing, son.”

“So why the hell are you holed up in here?” I push.

“What do you want me to do, Damian? Stand over her bed? I’ve been here at the hospital twenty-four-seven since I admitted her. I’m keeping a close eye on her, despite what you think. She’s been my patient for seven years, and I want nothing more than to see her walk out of this hospital cancer-free.” He’s losing his cool some. Good.

“Then what are you doing to make that happen?” My voice dips low. I came for answers, and god damn it, I’m going to get them!

“Everything I can,” he says through gritted teeth. He’s trying to keep his composure, but he’s beginning to fray.

I shake my head, annoyed. “It’s not good enough. It’s been six days.
Six days
and she hasn’t even batted an eyelash!”

Now I’ve really gotten to him. He shoots out of his chair. “You need to let me do my job and stop questioning me. What is Kate to you, anyway? Because I’ll be damned if I allow you to use her like you use Ellie. Kate’s sick, Damian.”

I’m shaking now. How dare he insinuate that I’m using her? I pick up a paperweight and hurl it at a fake Monet painting behind me. The glass shatters, and I spin around to face my father again.

“Fuck you!” I spit out.

“I know Ellie’s father was admitted a few days ago. I also know that you met up with her.” He steps out from behind his desk. Close enough for me to throw a punch into his face.

His voice lowers, his eyes drilling into me. “Let me tell you something, son. You’d better figure things out, because when Kate wakes up, you have a choice to make. She merits every happiness, and if you can’t give her that, you need to walk away.”

When
she wakes up?

I have no reply to the rest of what he said. I don’t want him to know that he’s right. I’ll end up fucking this up somehow.

I take a step toward him, glaring at him. He doesn’t budge. I’m still pissed, but I got the answer I came for. Kate
will
wake up.

When I speak, my tone mimics his. Low and menacing. He made his point, now I will make mine.

“You told me once that Kate was different. That her disease makes her different, and I want to tell you that you’re wrong. Yeah, Kate’s different, but it isn’t leukemia that makes her that way. She doesn’t let the cancer define her, and
that’s
what makes her so damn special.”

Day 7

Kate remained stable the rest of yesterday, and by the time Mr. Browdy left for the night, so had the nurse. Dad even made a couple extra appearances in Kate’s room after our fallout.

I have a hard time sleeping, and from the sound of sheets rubbing together in the other bed, so does Marcy. Even though the Doc said Kate was in the clear for now, it does nothing to ease my mind.

At three a.m. I stop trying to sleep. I scoop up Kate’s hand and hold it to my lips. The temperature of her skin has returned to normal, making slipping into bed with her difficult to resist. I don’t, though, because I don’t want to overheat her.

Quietly, I slide my chair up so that I’m closer to Kate’s head. Even though I assume Marcy’s awake, I speak softly to Kate anyway. I’m beyond caring who hears.

“We should go to Disney World,” I say, recalling the list of activities she wants to do. “My parents took Liam and me a couple of times when we were younger.” I snicker as a memory surfaces. “There’s this, uh, kids’ roller coaster that goes through a barn. It has Goofy and pals shape cut out as if they’d burst through the wall. I was six and Liam was nine, and he wanted to ride that thing so bad, but I took one look at it and freaked out. Mom said she’d go with me to the teacups again instead and Dad could ride with Liam on the evil roller coaster.”

I smile to myself, thinking of what my brother did next. Even as a kid, he was fucking perfect. “But Liam said no. He didn’t want to ride on anything if I couldn’t go with him. Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and told me he’d never leave me behind.” I pause as the image fades away. “We’ll ride that one first, Kate, with our hands high up in the air like it’s the scariest damn roller coaster there.” I puff out a laugh at the thought.

I kiss Kate’s hand and press it against my cheek. It’s soft, smooth, and I’d give anything for her to curl her fingers around mine. I never knew holding someone’s hand could be so intimate, so utterly incredible. But that’s how it is with her.

If only she’d open her eyes.

Behind me, I hear Marcy shuffle around, and the bed creaks as she gets up. She rounds the end of Kate’s bed and sits opposite me, taking Kate’s other hand. Her lips purse, worry lines creeping from the corners of her eyes. For the longest time she doesn’t say anything. She simply gazes at her daughter, like at any second Kate could slip away from us forever.

It’s then I realize that Marcy’s life has been made up of moments exactly like this one. Kate may be the one battling this disease, but the cancer has claimed other victims in its wake.

My father’s words rip through me. He was right. Kate does deserve to be happy.

And yet…

“Sweetheart,” Marcy murmurs, interrupting my thoughts, “you can wake up whenever you’re ready. We’re here for you, okay?”

I find myself staring at Marcy. At the tears glistening in her eyes. She’s wearing the same expression I’ve seen on my father’s face time and time again when he’s concerned over a patient and thinks no one is paying attention. Desperation.

Marcy’s eyes lift to meet mine, and she smiles at me. “It should be soon, Damian. Your father took her off the thiopental.”

I swallow. “He did?”

She nods, hopeful. “Yes, earlier this afternoon, Tammy came in and switched her medication.”

“This afternoon?” I repeat, thinking back.

“When you left to get coffee?”

That’s what I had told her when I went to confront my dad. He’d given the order before I spoke to him.

Holy shit.

~*~

I never did fall asleep. Marcy got in a few hours, though. Right now, she’s in the cafeteria eating lunch like I should be, but I can’t leave Kate here after what her mother told me last night. Kate could wake up any minute, and I want to be here when she does.

I want to stare into those beautiful brown eyes of hers and let her captivate me.

I shift in my seat, and as I do, my phone digs into my ass. Leaning forward, I pull it out to check for messages. My brain has been so preoccupied with Kate over the last two days that Ellie’s situation slipped my mind. I’d told her to call me, but I haven’t heard my phone go off.

I should check up on her.

I tap my fingers on the phone. None of the choices I come up with sound like good options at the moment. I can’t run down and see if she’s here, not with Kate on the verge of waking up. Calling her in front of Kate seems like an asshole move, and I’m trying not to be an asshole. Besides, neither of these fall into the category of choosing Kate and letting Ellie go, which is what I need to do.

Yet somehow,
somehow
, I have to fulfill my promise to Liam.

I make the decision to shoot her a text.

Hey. You doing okay?

Short. Sweet. No bullshit.

I lay my phone on the bed and wait for an answer. It never takes Ellie long to return a text.

Twenty minutes later, when Marcy arrives with a sandwich for me, I’m still waiting. And I don’t know what to think about it. Ellie’s a big girl and can handle herself, but that’s not what Liam would let her do. Especially not when she’s hurting like she is.

Fuck. Me.

I glance at Kate, then at the monitor. I find myself doing that often. Yesterday, I asked the nurse what the numbers meant and what was considered normal, so now I have a frame of reference. They all look good.

“Marcy, I’m going to go speak with my dad for a minute. I’ll be right back,” I lie.

“We’ll be here,” she sings out. Even with so little sleep, Marcy is more chipper today. That’s what hope does to people.

In the hallway, I head straight to the stairs instead of wasting time waiting for the elevators. I half jog to room 111, where Ellie’s dad is supposed to be. The door is wide open, and a second later, a janitor backs out with a mop bucket.

“Hey,” I say, stopping him. “Is Mark Vander Zee here?”

“Who?”

“The man who was admitted to this room? Where is he?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess he left. I just cleaned the room.”

“Yeah, thanks,” I say as I turn away, digging my phone out of my pocket. Now that Kate’s not beside me, I dial Ellie’s number. After the fifth ring, her voicemail picks up.

“God damn it,” I mutter.

I make my way back to the oncology floor, telling myself I’ve done all I can. If Ellie won’t answer her phone, there’s nothing I can do. Not even Liam could force her to do that when she sunk into stubborn mode. Sure, he’d go after her, but Ellie doesn’t belong to me.

I choose Kate. It was never even a choice; it was me being a pussy because Ellie and I have a history. I know I’ll have to tell Ellie eventually, but now doesn’t seem like the best time. That and she’s not answering her phone.

Standing outside of Kate’s door, I smile to myself. Come hell or high water, I won’t lose this girl.

Day 8

This morning, I wake up to a text from Ellie:

I’m fine, Damia
n
.

That’s it. And suddenly, I can breathe again. Not because she finally replied, but because last night, I didn’t chase her.

No, last night, I did what I should have done a long time ago.

I let her go.

I’m not sure if that’s the reason I see Kate differently right now, or if it’s all the junk finally making its way out of her bloodstream that makes her seem brighter. She’s not as pale; her skin even looks like it’s taking on a healthy glow.

I’m counting down the hours. Ticking them off in my head. Tammy said the longer she’s been under, the higher the risk of complications. She’d said more, but the word
complications
flashed red in my mind.

Forty-eight hours is the hoped-for time frame according to Tammy, and we’d just passed hour twenty-one. Time couldn’t move any slower.

“Anytime, Katie,” I murmur against her hand that’s been in mine since before the sun came up. I kiss it again, leaving my mouth on her.

In my downtime, I’ve worked some on the song, but mostly I’ve contemplated what to say to her when she wakes up. Again, I consider how my feelings for Kate mystify me. She’s consumed my thoughts since day one. Both in good ways and bad. I’ll never be able to live up to her. Yet she wants to be with me, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

Slowly, I graze my lips over the skin on the back of her hand. And that’s when it happens. Her fingers constrict around mine for a second. Then she lets go.

I’m stunned for a moment before what happened sinks in. I bolt from my chair to stand over her. As I do, I tighten my grip on her hand.

I bend down, close to her ear, and whisper, “Do it again, Katie. Squeeze my hand.”

I hold my breath, waiting. Waiting for the tiniest of movements.

A whole minute passes, and my lungs are on fire. I exhale and suck in air as if I’d completed a workout at the gym.

“Come on, Kate. Wake up,” I say a little louder.

I stare at her, watching her chest rise and fall. But she offers no voluntary motion.

I glance at the clock and count down another hour. Twenty-two. The wait is fucking killing me.

Sitting back down, I push a hand through my hair. I’m exhausted. Last night, I’d dozed off for a couple of hours, but it’s been two days since I had a full night’s sleep. I’m cool with it, though. I want to be awake when Kate opens her eyes.

I want to tell her…

My gaze slides over her again. Honest to God, she looks like she’s only sleeping instead of working on coming out of an induced coma. I can’t get over how much this girl infatuates me.

What the hell do I want to tell her?

That I’ll be here for her.

Yeah, I guess. I can’t promise anything else. Not right now, anyway. I need to get this Ellie thing under control first before I can even begin to figure out all that Kate means to me.

If I can ever be good enough for her.

~*~

My eyelids are dropping. Sleep is beckoning to me, and my body is rebelling against my mind. I can’t sleep now. Not on hour twenty-six.

“Damian?” The sound of Marcy’s voice jolts me to attention.

I rub my eyes as I face her. “Yeah.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes. She nods her head toward the door. “I’m going to go grab a coffee. Want some?”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

She chuckles. “Okay, be right back.”

As soon as she leaves, I pace the room to revitalize myself. I’ve watched Kate all day, and there’s been no visible change. Dad’s checked on her twice. I couldn’t read his expression, but Tammy’s? Tammy is an open book.

Two hours ago, she came in. Her bottom lip set between her teeth, she scanned over every single read-out the machines gave up. She took Kate’s blood pressure twice.

When she was satisfied, she sighed. “Well, we have twenty-four hours left.”

“What does that mean?” I’d asked.

She hesitated. “Twenty-four hours is a long time. A lot can change.”

Since Marcy wasn’t around at the time, Tammy didn’t elaborate. Stupid privacy mumbo jumbo.

I drop to the floor and do fifty push-ups. I have to do something. It gets my blood moving a little. Enough to give my body the delusion that I’ve had some rest.

As I wait for my coffee, I sit on the bed beside Kate and stroke her arm. I’ve touched her so much in the last week that I can’t imagine going a day without the skin-on-skin contact. Somewhere inside her, I hope she’s gotten as much out of my caresses as I have.

I lean forward and press my mouth on hers. It’s not the same when she doesn’t kiss me back, but as soon as she does, I don’t plan on letting her come up for air.

“Wake up and kiss me, baby,” I say against her lips.

I pull back to gaze at her, and immediately her eyelashes flutter. This time, I don’t hesitate. I know what I saw.

“Katie?” I breathe out. “Katie, can you hear me?”

I study her in anticipation. But like earlier, nothing happens.

I can’t take this much longer. She needs to fucking wake up!