SEAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 3) (83 page)

              “I want to see you later,” he said, sitting upright and glancing around for his boxers.

              When he found them at the foot of the bed and began pulling them up, she asked, “What are we doing?”

              He stared at her, and for a long time neither of them spoke.

              “I want to say we’re being impulsive, but it feels like more than that,” he said. “Give me a call when you’re out of your meeting.”

              She nodded and found her bra and panties, and they dressed in silence, at times feeling for each other, kissing and lingering as if they sensed they might not have a moment like this ever again. Soon Rose was peering through the blinds and indicating he could make a quick go for his car.

              One World gathered their gear at Rose’s instructions and drove off through the dark night towards the Starlight Energy trench. Carter killed the headlights on his Jeep as they drove the final mile down the dusty, rural road that ran parallel to the trench.

              “We’ll take pictures of everything,” Rose stated to the entire team that was now standing one hundred yards from the trench. Ronnie climbed out of the cube truck they’d rented to load the barrels into. “And remember, we’re not stealing. This is a peaceful demonstration to prevent them from using this particular chemical, which we now know is deadly.” She made a point to touch eyes with every member of her team, then added, “As soon as we’re in position, I’ll tell Ronnie on the walkie-talkie. The second he backs the truck to the barrels, we'll use the dollies to move them up the ramp. Do not attempt to roll the barrels on their sides. The chemical is highly toxic, and if the lids come off and it spills, it’ll be impossible to clean, not to mention you definitely do not want to get this stuff on your hands or skin. Stay aware, everyone. Okay, go!”

              All twelve of them jogged off towards the trench, Carter and Layla leading the pack and Rose bringing up the rear, adjusting the dial on her walkie-talkie as she went.

              Soon her team began lifting and maneuvering the barrels on the dollies. There were seven barrels and three dollies. Working together, they got the first six barrels accounted for, and Rose called Ronnie over on the walkie-talkie.

              Lurching through the dark night, the truck crept towards them, and Rose’s heart raced in response. The construction site was quiet, almost too quiet, and she didn’t trust it. But soon Ronnie was backing the truck up. He threw it into park, climbing out.

              Standing guard with her hand on the last barrel, Rose locked her gaze on Ronnie as he hoisted the truck ramp out. She was so focused, readying the last barrel for when a dolly would become free, that she didn’t notice a construction worker stalking up behind her until he grabbed her by the arm.

              Confused, she jerked back to get free, and at the same time gripped the barrel for balance. She fell, anyway, taking the chemical barrel down with her.

              The second she hit the ground, the barrel bounced next to her, jostling the lid off, and a cascade of toxic chemicals poured over her, scalding her arm and neck and saturating her hair as she screamed.

              “Rose!” Carter rushed to her, Layla at his heels, and helped her up, but getting to her feet was impossible. Every inch of her was burning.

              “Serves you right!” barked the construction worker. “I’m calling the police.”

              “Call an ambulance,” Layla ordered, panicking as she worked to clear away the green liquid from Rose’s skin with a smock.

              It felt like an eternity passed before she heard the whine of ambulance sirens in the distance. As soon as medics helped her onto a gurney and rolled her into the back of the ambulance, shouting questions at her that she was too disoriented and in pain to answer, she realized she was shouting the same thing over and over.

              “I can't see!”

              "Try to stay calm," said Layla, who was seated beside her and holding her hand as medics worked to clean her skin and administer an IV.

              "We're going to need the burn unit!" One of them shouted to the driver. Then he asked Layla, "What is this stuff?"

              Scrambling, Layla squeezed Rose's hand and desperately searched her memory for the chemical names she'd seen on Madison's preliminary report. "Benzene, toluene, and ethylbenzene," she rushed to say, "but there could've been more."

              "Christ, that was at a pipeline construction site?" he asked, dumbfounded. The look on his face told her he was as against the pipeline as all the residents of Bellevue, and Layla had no response but to grimace.

              The ambulance swung into the Bellevue Mercy Hospital parking lot and came to screeching halt at the entrance to the ER. As soon as the driver threw the ambulance into park, he jumped out and briefed a team of nurses who were running and opening the rear doors.

              For Rose, trying not to panic was an exercise in abandoning all rationale. Her eyes had been burning the entire ride, even though she'd kept them pinched shut, but now that the medic had cleared her skin of the chemical liquid, she experimented with cracking her eyes open. All she could see was black.

              She sensed the medics swing her gurney into an operating room and a swarm of nurses surrounded her. As soon as they did, Layla's hand slipped out of hers and she heard herself whimper.

              "I'm still here!" Layla said, shouting over the nurses who were ushering in a top surgeon from the burn unit. But soon Rose heard a nurse force Layla out of the room.

              "It's imperative we keep this area sterile," she explained, and though Layla objected, Rose heard her shuffling back and then the sound of the door clicking shut.

              "Rose Cole," said a man, who she assumed was the doctor, "we're going to have to put you under." She felt a plastic mask come over her mouth and nose, and felt a thin flow of gas fill her lungs. "Count backwards from thirty."

              Terrified that if she lost consciousness she might not wake up, but knowing she had no choice except to do as instructed, she began counting. She was under before she could get to twenty, and the last cohesive thought she had was of Taylor. She wished he was here with her, but the prospect of him seeing her in this state gave her a terrible sinking feeling.

              It could've been hours. It could've been days. She had no concept of how long she'd been under. All Rose knew when she regained consciousness was that a thick band of gauze was wrapping her eyes, and because of it, she could see nothing.

              She took a sharp breath and realized she was seated upright in a hospital bed.

              "Rose!" said Layla, shuffling across the tiled floor and taking her hand.

              "We're both here," said Carter, whose large hand touched her shoulder.

              "What happened?" she asked. "Why are my eyes wrapped like this?"

              Their hesitation to answer told Rose the reason would be a bad one.

              "Let me get your doctor," said Layla, giving her hand a little squeeze before she padded out of the recovery room.

              "The last thing I remember," she began, angling her head towards where she believed Carter was standing beside her bed, "was falling with the chemical barrel as that man grabbed me."

              "You probably blocked it out," he said in a gentle voice, though it boomed through the small room. "You were in a lot of pain. The chemical got in your eyes, in your hair, and down the left side of your neck and shoulder."

              "Meaning what, Carter?" she asked in a tone that cracked.

              He sighed, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news. "Your doctor will be here soon."

              She drew in a carefully measured breath to steady her emotions, then heard the door creak open and soft-soled shoes tap across the floor that were followed by a second set, then a third.

              "I'll tell her."

              She recognized the voice. It was Taylor.

              "Rose, it's me," he said, taking her hand. "I'm here with your doctor, Kenneth Greenblatt, who is the head of the burn unit."

              "Burn unit? The chemicals burned me?"

              Taylor held her hand tighter, and she sensed him leaning in. Then he whispered, "I should've believed you. I'm so sorry."

              "Just tell me what's happened," she said impatiently, though she tried to keep her tone steady and strong. "Why are my eyes wrapped?"

              "Because…" Trailing off, his voice hitched in his throat, but he forced the words out. "You're blind."

              “Blind?” Rose couldn’t fathom the magnitude of what she was hearing, and yet it resonated the deep sense of dread that had been forming in the pit of her stomach. “Permanently?”

              Taylor’s hand felt warm and strong as he laced his fingers with hers, holding her firmly. It seemed to be his way of responding, as though words would be too small, insignificant, and unable to cut to the core of this life-changing event that no one could’ve seen coming.

              “It looks that way,” he said finally, but his timber waned, giving Rose an indication that he’d directed his response to her doctor, who had yet to address the prognosis.

              “We’re going to have to take it day by day, Rose,” he said finally, nearing the foot of her hospital bed, while Layla fidgeted beside Carter on the other side of her bed. “The chemicals scalded your retinas in both eyes. We had the best doctors working, but our primary concern was preventing chemical burns across your skin, which would’ve killed you. After flushing your eyes with H2O solution, we had to focus on saving your life, and unfortunately that was at the expense of your sight.”

              “Please,” she interrupted. “Please just explain to me what taking this one day at a time means, because right now I’m latching onto a silver lining, and you’ve got to tell me if there is one, or if I’m being hopelessly optimistic.”

              Dr. Greenblatt was quick to say, “There is one. But when it comes to your eyes you’ve got a long, uphill battle. First we must monitor the progress of your healing. Then we’ll focus on rebuilding what we can. We won’t know if permanent blindness is the fact of the matter for weeks or perhaps months. But at that time you’ll have options.”

              “What options could I possibly have if I’m truly blind?” she demanded, her voice hitching with emotion in her throat.

              “It’s possible,” Taylor interjected so that Dr. Greenblatt wouldn’t be able to muddy the waters with medical terms. “We could put you on the donor list for an eye transplant.”

              “However, finding a match,” Dr. Greenblatt went on, “could be a long and arduous process.”

              Holding herself together, Rose felt tears sting her eyes and her lip began quivering. “My work is my life,” she stated with such resolve she almost didn’t recognize her own voice. “How am I supposed to work? How am I supposed to lead One World through our mission?”

              Carter stepped up to her bed and took hold of her free hand. “You’ll delegate. Layla and I will be your eyes and ears and we won’t give up. We have all the more reason to fight.”

              Swallowing hard, touched at his unwavering determination, Rose also sensed a billow of tension rise between the men on either side of her, Taylor stiffening in her grasp and Carter growing hard as stone. She could picture the tremendous black man glaring at the handsome billionaire who had so easily swept her into a whirlwind romance. The thought sent a fresh wave of dread through her chest. Would she ever see Taylor’s face again? Would it matter to her one way or the other? If not for Taylor—his stubbornness, his brushing the hazards of the Starlight Energy Project under the rug—would she be in this position? She was torn. It was hard to wade through the drudgery to find an answer. Was he responsible? If he hadn’t been at the helm of Starlight, surely his father would have been. There was always someone to fight and always an environmental hazard to shut down. Could she blame Taylor? Should she? Once again her head and her heart were entirely at odds, and Rose was so consumed by the dilemma, she didn’t realize she’d tuned her doctor out until she caught him saying “inpatient care.”

              “I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “How long am I supposed to be cooped up in here?”

              “If we can get you on the donor list,” Dr. Greenblatt explained, “then it would make the most sense to keep you here until your surgery.”

              “But you just said that finding a match could take a very long time,” she objected.

              Taylor spoke up, though she could hear the apprehension in his voice. “With my medical background, I could easily make you very comfortable at the Escala.”

              “She’s not going to accept your help,” Carter snapped, rising to his feet as if to intimidate the billionaire. “What the hell are you even doing here? The gall.” The exasperation in his tone was palpable. “You did this to her, and now you want to swoop in and control her recovery? You think that’s going to prevent a lawsuit, because it won’t. Rose, the only silver lining of this situation, if there is one, is that your injuries from the chemical spill is all we need to not only shut down Starlight, but to have this bastard arrested.”

              Taylor sprang to his feet, his voice booming across the bed at Carter. “I didn’t do this to her. I’d never hurt her or anyone. If you and your group hadn’t trespassed, this wouldn’t have happened—”

              “To Rose, but it could’ve happened to anyone at that site, including your own men,” Carter asserted. “Including you, for Christ’s sake. How blind are you?”

              Rose cringed at the term. No one was blinder than she. And she feared it wasn’t merely the state of her eyes or the predicament she found herself in, but perhaps who she’d been right up until the accident. She’d been so drawn to Taylor that she was blind to the risks. She’d been so determined to shut down Starlight by any means necessary, she didn’t see the she was putting herself in harm’s way. For one brief and shining moment, she felt grateful this hadn’t happened to Layla or Carter or any of the others, but it was a small consolation.

              “I take this very seriously,” Taylor stated, calming, but only by a fraction. “I’ve paused all work on the pipeline. Rose is my main concern. I’m not offering my help to avoid a lawsuit. I could pay One World off right now by signing a check and I wouldn’t think twice about it. My primary concern is that Rose gets the care she needs and that she recovers without financial constraints in an environment where she feels she can continue to work, if that’s what she most wants to do.” Shifting the direction of his voice, Taylor addressed her tenderly. “It’s up to you, Rose, but I’d like to bring you back to my suite.”

              “I need to think,” she said in a small voice. “Dr. Greenblatt?”

              “Yes?”

              “Whatever paperwork I need to sign to get on the donor list, please bring it in. And how long will it take to get Taylor’s suite set up with the medical equipment I’ll need to be comfortable there?”

              Layla spoke up right away. “You’re not seriously considering staying with the man who did this to you, are you?”

              Choosing her words carefully, and knowing deep down that ultimately there would be no way to hide her affection for Taylor, she said, “He didn’t do this to me, and that’s the honest-to-God truth. I can’t spend the next few weeks or months of my life in a hospital, you know that, Layla. If Taylor says he’s postponed the build, then I believe him.”

              “Seriously, what’s going on between you two?” Carter demanded.

              “What’s going on,” she said immediately, “is that I’m taking him up on his offer, and unless you’ve walked a mile in my shoes, unless you’ve woken up blind in a hospital, you have no right to judge me.”

              She’d spoken with such conviction that her tone went shrill, quivering with emotion that neither Carter nor Layla could argue against.

              Dr. Greenblatt spoke calmly, breaking the lull that had followed her statement. “Mr. Montgomery has been making arrangements for the past few days. Other than stocking up on a few medical supplies, he’s fully prepared to receive you at his home.”

              “The past few days?” she asked. “How long was I unconscious?”

              “Three and a half days,” he said.

              “We’ll get you settled over there,” said Carter, again taking her hand. “And we’ll come by every day, three times a day, as much as you want.”

              Rose angled her nose in the direction she sensed Taylor was standing. “I’m going to be working,” she said. “Carter and Layla and the others will have to be with me whenever I feel like it. You’re not going to have a problem with that?”

              His laugh was soft and breathy, and she sensed he was only pleased by her impenetrable determination. “No, I’d never have a problem with that. I’ll make them keys and notify the front desk that anyone from One World can come and go as they please.”

              “Guilt is a hell of a motivator,” grumbled Carter under his breath, but Rose heard Layla thwack his shoulder.

              “I’d rather him help out of guilt,” she countered in her fiery tone, “than have him fight us or have us arrested. He wants to help Rose, and that’s all that matters.”

              “It is,” said Dr. Greenblatt. “I’ll have our administrator bring the paperwork, Rose, and we’ll get you discharged within the hour.”

              Taylor squeezed her hand then her shoulder. “I’ll be back with a wheelchair.”

              “Okay,” she whispered, feeling the hospital gown around her chest.

              Perhaps sensing her worry, Layla said, “I’ll help you dress.”

              Again, tears stung her eyes, though the gauze wrapping her head quickly absorbed them. She was touched by their care, but even more so than that, she was daunted at the thought of all she’d have to learn to do without sight—dressing, tying her shoes, brushing her teeth, functioning in a dark world. How would she type a report or send an e-mail? She’d find a way, but it would be far from easy.

              She heard her doctor pad out and sensed Taylor following behind him. Carter mentioned he’d be right outside and told Layla to let him know when he could return. After shutting the door behind him, Layla sat beside Rose on her bed and placed her warm palm on Rose’s leg over the bedsheet.

              “I’m still in shock,” she said, her tone cracking. “It’s all surreal. It’s like I can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”

              Rose held her chin high, envisioning Layla’s face. “We don’t stop. We won’t let up. We have Madison’s extensive report, correct?”

              Layla took a moment to sober her quivering tone. “Yes, we do.”

              “Okay, let’s get Harold on this right away,” she instructed, referring to One World’s attorney. “I’m living evidence of the hazards of those chemicals, and no one can deny this accident happened at the pipeline. We can use Madison’s report in tandem with the Davey Construction permits on file with the various cities they’ve built Starlight pipelines in, and with those critical documents we can work towards shutting down all the pipelines they’ve built across the country.”

              “Certainly,” she said with determination.

              “If I can focus on this,” she went on, “I might have a prayer of holding myself together.”

              Feeling for the edge of the bed and shifting her legs, Rose slid her feet to the tiles, as Layla got to her feet and padded across the room.

              “If you could narrate what you’re doing,” she said. “It would help me.”

              “Of course,” said Layla, taking pause.

              “Is that silly?”

              After a moment of Rose picturing Layla gaping at her, her friend said, “Not at all. Okay, I’m getting a pair of jeans and a sweater off the chair in the corner of the room. These are mine, by the way. Your clothes become saturated in the chemical.”

              Rose reached behind her back and pulled the string on her hospital gown, helping it to fall to the floor, as Layla approached with the jeans, setting the sweater on the bed.

              “Here are your jeans, can you feel for them and get your leg through?”

              “I think so,” she said, surprised to find herself smiling. “In a weird way this reminds me of being a kid. When I was little I used to close my eyes and bumble around my parents’ house pretending to be blind.”

              “I feel like I used to do that, as well,” said Layla through a breathy laugh. “Messes with your balance a bit. Doesn’t it?”

              “Yeah, I’m wobbly.”

              Despite the challenge, Rose pulled her jeans on and made slow work of buttoning them before Layla handed her the sweater, helping her to pull it over her head. Once she got dressed and Layla assisted her into each sneaker, there came a knock on the door.

              “That’s Carter,” she said, guiding Rose’s hand to the edge of the bed before letting him in. “And Taylor with the wheelchair,” she added. “Guys, try to narrate what you’re doing. It helps her.”

              “I’ve got the wheelchair here,” said Taylor, rolling and angling it beside her.

              Rose felt for its armrest then eased into it, as Carter placed a pen in her hand and a clipboard in the other. “This is the paperwork,” he explained. “Put the pen right here.”

              Taking her hand, Carter pressed the pen tip against the paperwork.

              “Right here?” Carter said nothing, and she imagined him nodding. “Use your words, Carter, I can’t see a damn thing.”