Shutout, p.19
Shutout, page 19
Steadying my breathing, I make my way to the hospital, practically running through the entrance, and press floor six in the elevator. Stepping into the sterile air that I’ve become accustomed to, I notice new nurses on the floor. They must be changing their shifts or going on lunch, and I make my way down the hall with a few snacks in my purse and a book to read.
The moment my feet land in Colson’s room, I freeze. My breath is taken straight from my lungs, and I almost collapse to the floor.
His bed is empty.
Backing out of the room, my butt hits the door, and I spin around to grab the next nurse I can find.
My hand seizes the forearm of a young blonde in blue scrubs. “Excuse me, but where is Colson Hayes?”
A line forms on her forehead. “I’m sorry, who?”
“The man in this room.” I point to the door behind me. “Where is he?”
She looks behind me then back to my face. “I don’t work on this floor, ma’am, I’m sorry.” She nods toward the direction I came. “You can ask the receptionist and—”
I break from her, needing answers now. I’ve only been gone for...shit, over ten hours. I should’ve never of gone to the practice today, knowing something would happen if I was gone too long.
“Excuse me—” I look at the receptionist’s name tag. “—Becky. Where is Colson Hayes in room two-twenty?”
She blinks at me, and I form my hands into fists on the countertop.
“I can look,” she finally says.
I squeeze a smile from my mouth. “Thanks.”
She types away at her computer, which seems like it’s in slow-mo, and takes her time reading through whatever it is she needs to look at.
“I don’t see that he was discharged,” she voices.
“He’s not in his room,” I reply. “He was still coming out of a coma when I left this morning. Is Dr. Neil in?”
“Dr….”
“Neil,” I censure.
Becky looks over to her right. “Wanda, do you know who Dr. Neil is?”
Wanda waddles over to her and narrows her eyes. “Dr. Neil is the man who introduced himself to you today.”
“Ohhh…” Becky coos.
Wanda peers up at me through wrinkled eyes. “What can I help you with, dear?”
“Colson Hayes, he was in room two-twenty, he’s not there. I was wondering where he is.”
Wanda reaches over Becky and starts typing at the keyboard. “Colson Hayes...should still be here.”
I squint my eyes at her, about to lose my entire shit on the sweet lady who is just trying to help me. Anxiety starts to make me fidgety as I break away from the receptionist’s desk and back to the room.
I might be imagining this shit. He might still be laying there, and I’m over here seeing things.
Striding back into his room, I was right the first time. Colson Hayes is not in his damn bed. My first thought was a dark, fucked-up one.
He’s dead.
They carted him away, and that’s why I had three missed calls. He didn’t make it through coming out of the coma, maybe he went into cardiac arrest or had a heart attack. Maybe he stopped breathing but, no, he was breathing fine this whole time. Why wouldn’t he be in his room and—
“I was wondering when I was going to see you again.”
My exhale comes barrelling out of my mouth as my body becomes completely numb. Tears burn my eyes as I slowly attempt to turn around toward the door, my shoulders feeling so heavy from the weight of worry I’ve been dealing with for well over two weeks.
My eyes fall on Colson, sitting in a wheelchair with Taylor standing behind him. His green hospital gown makes him look smaller than I remember, and his eyelids look heavy as he tries to keep them pried open.
I rush toward him so that he doesn’t fall forward in his wheelchair, even though he’s slouched all the way back in it.
“I’ll go grab the nurse to help you back in your bed,” Taylor mutters, stepping back toward the hall.
“Give us five minutes,” Colson replies. She closes the door behind her, and I’m on my knees, in between his legs, wrapping my arms around his waist.
My head falls in his lap, and a loud sob wrecks my body. Every tear I’ve tried to contain falls freely from me, along with the exhaustion and fear that has consumed me since I found out he was here.
His fingers brush away the hair at my forehead before lacing them through my hair as my entire self just shakes that he’s awake. That he just spoke to me. That he’s here.
“Baby,” he croons, wrapping the fingers of one of his hands around my chin. There isn’t much force behind it, he’s weak and tired from being down for so long, so I look up at him staring down at me.
His brown eyes are glossed over in what looks to be unshed tears and relief that I’m near. His thumb brushes the side of my lips as he continues to just look at me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he croaks, sounding hoarse and stranded. “I missed you.”
I place my palm on his hand and squeeze, not fighting back the tears that keep falling on my cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” I weep. “I’m sorry I didn’t come home with you.”
The corner of one of his lips quirks weakly, and he shakes his head. “You’re here now.”
“I’m never leaving again.”
“Baby, get off the ground.”
I shake my head, tucking myself further into his legs. “I don’t want to be away from you again.”
“I’m right here,” he retorts with a raspy chuckle. “C’mon, Bases, I don’t want you on the hard ground.”
I push myself to stand off his wheelchair and, when I’m on my feet, he leans forward to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.
“I’ve been waiting to touch you for fucking ever,” he quips, his fingers gently digging into the small of my back.
I knit my fingers into his hair, softly playing and pushing it back. “I’m so happy you’re awake.”
“I’m never letting you leave my sight again.” I smile though he can’t see it, his cheek is pressed into my stomach. “How’s our…” I feel his body start to shake, and I step back to look down at him, but his fingers prod deeper into my skin holding me even tighter.
“Colson,” I quake. “What’s wron—”
“Do we still have a baby?” His chin lifts to meet my eyes. “Did you…”
My brows furrow while I shake my head. “No, no. I’m still pregnant.” I cup the back of his head delicately and bring his cheek back to my stomach. “The baby is still in there.”
I feel his cheekbones raise as a knock rasps on the door. A nurse pops her head around, and smiles brightly.
“Mr. Hayes, it’s very nice to see you awake,” she greets. “We’ve all been pulling for you.” Colson is still latched on to me while she speaks, like a little child who doesn’t want to let go of his mother on the first day of school.
“Colson,” I whisper. “We’re going to put you back in bed.”
“I’m good here.”
The nurse chuckles behind him and reaches for the handles of his wheelchair. “That’s fine, but is it okay if I move you closer to the blood pressure machine?”
Colson grumbles but releases my waist, grabbing one of my hands and presses a kiss into my palm before he’s carted away.
The nurse, Jamie, I remember her name now, guides Colson closer to the bed while Taylor stands next to me, wrapping her arm around my waist.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I called you on the hospital phone a few times, my phone died.”
“It’s okay.” I nudge her with my body. “I’m just glad one of us was here.”
“Your name was the first thing he mumbled out.”
My lips crack into a smile as I glance back over at him. Colson’s already contemplating me as the nurse wraps the thick black band around his upper arm.
“Then he wanted to get the hell out of bed,” she continues.
“I bet he did.”
“Demanded I call you, tell him where you were and—”
“I can hear you,” Colson calls out, sending a shut-the-hell-up look at Taylor.
“He even wanted me to take him to the baseball field so he could see you,” Taylor emits.
“You’d make a horrible sidekick with ratting us out in front of the hospital staff,” Colson mutters.
He sounds exhausted, his body slumped into the chair as the nurse checks his lungs and heart.
Taylor turns her back on Colson but keeps herself close to me. “What do you want me to do about Annabelle?”
I jerk my head to her. “What do you mean?”
“She just missed him waking up today but tomorrow…”
I stretch my jaw in irritation. “We’ll let him decide. Oh! I need to call Ben!”
“Already did, he’s on his way.”
“You’re the best.” I place my hand on her forearm. “Seriously, Tay, thank you.” She gives me a hug, and we watch Colson start to drift off to sleep as Jamie finishes his vitals.
We convince him to get into bed and finally get him tucked in. The moment he lays down, his hand reaches for mine, where he doesn’t let go. Taylor says she’s going to wait outside for Ben, giving us some time alone.
I’m buzzed on happiness and relief that Colson’s eyes are open. I have so many questions for Dr. Neil on his recovery, any signs that I should look out for or anything I can do to speed things along. So many questions that I’m beginning to think I should write all of them down so that I don’t forget.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Colson drones, squeezing my hand.
“Just thinking of all the questions I need to ask the doctor in the morning,” I reply, returning the pressure on his hand.
“Don’t worry about me, how are you and the baby?”
I give him a lopsided smile. “We’re doing good, we had an appointment the other day. Heartbeat is great, I’m already having cravings, and we’ve just been hanging out.”
“When do we know what we’re having?”
“You got about three months before that happens, Hayes.”
“I don’t care what it is,” he says. “As long as he or she acts like you. I can’t deal with a ‘me’.”
“I did,” I impart.
“You’re a fucking angel, Bases.”
I press a kiss to his cheek. “You were worth it.”
Colson turns his head. “Don’t fucking jip me with a kiss to the cheek, you better kiss me like you mean it.”
I smile, softly touching my lips with his. But Colson being Colson, he wraps his hand around my head and opens his mouth to take more. His tongue parts my lips as he demands to taste me.
Slow and soft, my body begins to buzz at just the feel of his mouth on mine. A muffled groan enters my mouth, and he starts to pant into my lips, thick and rapid.
I pull myself from him, clasping his face with my hands. “You need some rest, not to be making out with me.”
“I want to do more than make out with you, Sawyer Boyd.”
A heated blush hits my cheekbones.
“If you concentrate on getting better,” I allude. “Then we’ll play by your rules.”
“My rules?” he repeats, a hint of amusement in his tone. “I’ll need that in writing.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ll remember, trust me.”
“I know I will. I could never forget about you, Bases. Not even in my dreams.”
Sawyer has a pad of paper and a pen as she jots down all the answers Dr. Whatever-the-hell-his-name-is rattles off. I watch her green eyes peer up at him as he speaks then quickly look down at her notes, her hand writing a million miles a minute.
She didn’t leave me last night, can’t say that I wanted her to, still dressed in my Freemont baseball T-shirt and baggy gray sweats that look like they’re mine too.
I watch a few pieces of hair cascade around her face and the freckles that pop out on her cheekbones. Small bags appear under her eyes, and I don’t think she’s slept.
I never got the chance to ask because the doctor came in first thing this the morning with a giant smile and booming voice that woke me up.
I think of all the times I was stubborn as hell in my ways when it came to the particular female who plagued my thoughts and stole my soul. How I must’ve rubbed off on her after all these years because it took a baseball to the damn head for her to come back home. She can’t hide the worry very well as the doctor starts listing off things she needs to look out for—headaches, memory loss, paralysis, hearing loss.
Didn’t lose my temper though, I’m half tempted to tell him to get the hell out of my room because Sawyer’s face is pailing by the second, and I don’t want her or our baby stressed out.
As if on cue or the fact that the doc can sense my glare digging into his flesh, he finishes up Sawyer’s questions and tells us he’ll be back before his shift is over. Sawyer tucks her small pad that she must’ve gotten from here or home into her purse and pops a piece of gum in her mouth.
“Baby, why don’t you go home and try to get some sleep,” I tell her.
Her head jerks in my direction. “No, I’m fine. I don’t—you just woke up.”
“Fully aware of that,” I reply with a grin. “I’m looking at the most beautiful woman in the world right now.”
Her lips crack. “I see we didn’t lose our charm.”
Thank fuck, no. I don’t remember much before I got cracked upside the head from Jace’s power hit. I was actually pretty damn proud when Ben told me last night how I ended up here followed by boosting on us winning the playoff game Friday. How Sawyer stepped in and helped the boys to kick ass. Also how half of them have a crush on her because they supply her with donuts instead of daisies.
The boys are supposed to come here today to see me, but Sawyer insists only if I was feeling up to it by this afternoon. Honestly, all I want to do is go home and be able to hold her without feeling so weak. The doc says my equilibrium is off since I’ve been down for so long and to take it easy with walking.
I’m ready to walk the fuck out of here right now.
“Come here.” I motion with my hands for her as she perks a brow but stands, inching herself closer to my bed as I grab one of her hands. “You know if I didn’t feel like a newborn lamb that I’d have you underneath me, right?”
“Colson,” she whines.
“I don’t think you fully understand me when I say that I missed you, and I’m sorry.”
Her brows sink. “For what?”
“For everything that happened. I didn’t know about my son and Annabelle showing up. She’s...she’s not doing well.”
Sawyer bows her head into her chest. “Ben and Taylor told me. I’m really sorry to hear that, it’s horrible.”
“Just so we’re clear,” I slowly convey. “She wanted to try to get back together but, in so many words, I told her to fuck off. In case something happens...if something happens to her, she wants to make sure that Easton is taken care of.”
Her cheeks rise in a soft smile. “I like the name.”
“Me too.”
“He’s beautiful,” she alludes. “He looks like you.”
I squeeze her hand, my heart picking up its pace. “You’ve seen him?”
Sawyer’s nostrils flare as she nods.
My palms immediately start to sweat as she stands silent next to my bedside. I don’t want her to fill her own head with dumbass ideas. I want to be honest and make sure that there are no gray areas between us.
That I only want her in my life.
“Bases,” I convey. “I love you, more than I thought I could love anyone. Please don’t think that—”
“I know,” she cuts in softly. “I know you’d never leave me again.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I spoke to you every day and night when you were unconscious, and I promised you things too.”
My breathing quickens. “Like what?”
Her other hand cups around to cover mine. “I promised that I’d never leave you again. That I was sorry for sending you away in New York when I was scared and too into my feelings over Dad to let you in.”
“I know how that feels, baby. It fucking sucks.”
Tears quickly fill her eyes. “It does.”
I give a small yank to her arm, motioning for her to come lay down with me. She follows, laying in the small space allotted for the bed, and tucks her head into the crook of my arm.
“I’m so sorry he’s gone,” I mutter. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“I kept it from you,” she whimpers. “I kept it from you, even though I wanted you there too. I was just...I couldn’t bear the thought of the two of you. And it’s stupid, I know, I never gave you a chance to explain. That’s our problem, things happen and we run the other way.”
I place a kiss on top of her head and rest my chin in her hair. “I think we have one hell of a love affair, Sawyer Boyd.”
A choked chuckle sounds along my chest. “Most of it was us in different states.”
“Ehh...most of the time I still felt you with me. You were everywhere.”
“I know,” she blubbers. “I read some of the letters.”
“Letters?”
She remains silent for a moment before saying, “The ones you mailed to Ben.”
Oh shit.
I completely fucking forgot I wrote those. More than likely tried to erase the bad decision-making at the time so that I didn’t feel so guilty for, one, doing them behind Annabelle’s back and, two, trying to dip my ass back into Sawyer’s life in any shitty ass way possible.
“I was in a really bad way,” I explain, expecting her to jump out of this bed at any moment. “I pray to God you didn’t read the ‘married’ one.” I hear a soft chortle. “Fuck.”
“It explained a lot of things,” she mutters, slowly rubbing her palm over my chest. “And it made me see how much you loved me even though you hid it with hate.”
“I more than love you, Bases,” I admit. “I’m overly obsessed and captivated by you.”
She wraps her arm gently around my midsection. “I was never the same after you left, everything felt colorless and drained of life. I thought going to college was going to be my way of breaking free from the guilt and memories of you, but I couldn’t and didn’t have the power to. I never got to tell you how much you meant to me. How seeing you was the highlight of every day and that I fell in love with you way before you fell in love with me. And I still do, I love you too, Colson Hayes. You are the only one for me. Always have been, always will be.”
