Sharing Hailey (23 page)

She raised her voice above the noise of the siren so the driver could hear her. “Is he okay? Is he going to be okay?”

The driver focused intently on the road, weaving through the light pre-dawn traffic as he answered her. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Dr. Adamo is going to be fine. We’ll make sure of that.”

“Thank God,” she whispered.

“The trauma team knows he’s coming in. They’ll be ready for him.”

When they arrived at the emergency room entrance, Hailey already had her seatbelt unbuckled. She jumped out and ran to the back of the ambulance. Hospital personnel, most in green scrubs, were already there opening the doors.

The paramedic briskly updated the trauma team on Tony’s condition as they wheeled the stretcher inside the hospital. She was relieved to see Tony was still conscious. That had to be a good sign.

The next minutes passed in a blur. Hailey focused on Tony’s face as she followed his stretcher through the hospital, staying as close to him as she could. When they wheeled him into the examining area, someone touched her arm and said, “You can wait in the waiting room.”

“Can’t I stay with him?” Hailey pleaded. He couldn’t die if she were with him. Right?

The paramedic who’d driven the ambulance said, “Dr. Adamo wants her with him until he goes to the O.R.”

The woman nodded sharply. “All right, but stay out of the way.”

Hugging herself tightly, Hailey caught brief glimpses of Tony as the doctors and nurses surrounded his bed and worked on him. No one panicked, and their calm purpose eased her anxiety a little.

When things slowed, one of the doctors approached her. He wasn’t very big, no taller than Hailey, and he probably didn’t weigh much more than she did. “Hailey?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m Dr. Mills. We’re going to take Tony into surgery in a few minutes. We need to remove the bullet. It doesn’t look like any major organs are involved, but we’ll have a look around to make certain. When he’s out of surgery and in the recovery room, I’ll come to the waiting area to talk to you.”

“He’s not going to—” Her voice caught on a sob of relief.

The doctor smiled gently. “He’ll be fine. The hospital can’t afford to lose him. If you’d like, you can spend the next few minutes with him until we take him to the O.R. He keeps asking if you’re okay. I don’t think he believes me when I tell him yes. He needs to see you. He’s also been asking about Mark.”

“Mark’s not here. He had to stay and talk to the police.”

“But he’s not hurt?”

“No.”

He jerked his head toward the hospital bed. “Tell that to Tony.”

When Hailey reached Tony’s side, his eyes were closed. His clothes had been stripped away. He was covered with an assortment of blankets and sheets and bandages, some body parts exposed. He was connected to machines and tubes and oxygen. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed as he struggled to open his eyes.

“You…hurt?” he asked, his voice weak and raspy.

“No, not a scratch,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Mark’s fine too. He had to stay and talk to the police or else he’d be here.”

“Good,” Tony said as his eyes drifted shut. “Don’t…worry.” He took a deep breath. “Mills…best.”

Dr. Mills chuckled from the other side of the bed. “Maybe not the best, but good enough for a tea sip. Did Tony tell you he’d kick my ass if I didn’t keep you updated on his progress?”

Hailey shook her head, her eyes wide. Tony really didn’t look good. How could Dr. Mills be joking with them?

“Yeah, doctors make the worst patients. They’re used to being in charge.” Dr. Mills gave her an encouraging smile. “Hey, he’s gonna be fine. He can’t kick my ass right now, but I guarantee in a couple of days, none of us will be safe. Of course, it won’t be anything like the ass-whooping A&M gave the tea sips on Thanksgiving.”

“You’re an Aggie?”

“Yes, ma’am. Class of ninety-four.”

“Oh, shit,” Hailey blurted, suddenly remembering Tony’s patient. “He got a call from the hospital. He was headed here just before he was shot. He has a patient waiting on him.”

Dr. Mills raised his eyebrows. “Melinda,” he said, catching the attention of a tall, thin redhead behind him. “Call Jennifer Medina. Let her know Tony won’t be operating on anyone this morning. Be sure you tell her he’s going to be okay. I don’t want
her
down here kicking my ass.”

Melinda laughed. “She would too.”

Tony’s lips were moving. Hailey leaned down so she could hear him. “No,” he whispered. “Mark…called.”

“Mark called Jen?” Hailey asked, trying to clarify.

Tony whispered, “Yes.”

Mark must have done it while she was getting dressed. She raised her head. “He says Mark called Jen.”

“Doesn’t matter. If we don’t let her know what’s going on, I’ll have to deal with her, too.”

“The O.R.’s ready, Dr. Mills,” Melinda said.

“Okay. You ready for this, Tony?”

His eyes still closed, Tony grimaced.

“I’ll have you in recovery before you know it. Hailey, you can walk with us. We’ll point you in the direction of the waiting room when we get close.”

“Thanks,” she said, her voice faint.

She continued to hold his hand as they rolled him down the hallway, through locked doors that Dr. Mills opened with the swipe of a card, in the elevator and out to another hallway, more doors.

“This is where you leave us, Hailey. Straight down that hall, take your first right then you’ll see a waiting area on your left. Tony, Hailey’s leaving you now so we can go to surgery.” Dr. Mills nodded at Hailey.

She bent down and brushed her lips across Tony’s. “I’ll see you soon. Behave yourself. Okay?” she choked out.

His lips moved infinitesimally against hers.

She didn’t want to let go of his hand, but she did. She watched him rolling away from her until he disappeared behind more locked doors. Doors to which she didn’t have a key.

She dragged her feet to the waiting room. It was half full with faces as worried as hers, a few of them on their cell phones. A flat-screen television tuned to twenty-four hour news hung on the wall to her left.

She needed to call Mark. She reached into her back pocket for her cell. It wasn’t there. She tried her coat pockets, but they were empty too. She didn’t have her purse or her cell—hadn’t even thought to get them.

She scanned the waiting area for a phone. In the corner. An old, beige, corded telephone. Hard to believe there was a company out there still making them. Or maybe not. It could be an antique.

She sat in a chair next to the phone, picked up the clunky, oversized receiver and dialed Mark’s cell.

He answered on the first ring. “How is he?”

“In surgery. The doctor doesn’t think any organs were hit, but he’s going to look around and make sure when he removes the bullet. He says he’s going to be okay—that he’ll be kicking ass in a couple of days.” She wasn’t sure she believed that last part. “Where are you?”

“I’m just finishing up with the police. They have more questions, but they said they could wait until we know Tony’s okay.”

“We need to call Tony’s parents. I don’t have their number. Do you?”

“Yeah, I’ll call them if you’ll call your brother.”

“What time is it in Texas?”

“Damn, I don’t even know what time it is here.”

Hailey hadn’t put on her watch. No cell phone, no watch, no purse. She looked around the waiting area. The TV. Down in the right-hand corner.

“Five-thirty?” she said in disbelief. It seemed a lifetime ago that Tony’s cell had awakened them. Only an hour and fifteen minutes had passed.

“Okay,” Mark said. “Let’s hold off on calling Jake. No sense waking him and Nikki so early.”

“Mark, could you bring my purse and cell phone?”

Mark didn’t answer.

“Are you still there?” she asked.

“Yeah. Just trying to figure out which shoes I should wear to match your purse.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled. “See you in a few.”

“I love you,” she whispered, trying not to cry.

“I love you too, babe. Don’t cry. You know I can’t handle that. Wait until Tony’s out of surgery. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Thirty minutes later, Mark walked into the waiting area, her purse in one hand, his cell in the other. He’d changed from his sweatpants into blue jeans and a blue flannel shirt over a black T-shirt. Relief flooded Hailey when she saw him. He sat beside her, set her purse in her lap and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her as close as he could with the metal arms of the chairs between them.

“Any news yet?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Any idea how long he’s supposed to be in surgery?”

Desperate for news from the doctor, her gaze didn’t waver from the entrance of the waiting area. “The doctor didn’t say, and I didn’t think to ask. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. You’re handling this really well. Tony’s parents will get in at ten. I told them I’d pick them up.”

“He should be out by then, right?”

“I hope so. I want to give them some good news.”

“Did you tell them who shot him?”

“No, I didn’t go into details. Time for that when they get here.”

“They’re going to hate me.”

“Why? You didn’t shoot him. Even if you had, you know Tony’s parents better than that. They don’t hate anyone.”

“Mark, this is all my fault.”

“You’ve gotta stop thinking like that. You didn’t do anything wrong. Daniel shot Tony. Not you.”

“But—”

“No buts. We’re lucky he didn’t shoot you.”

“I wish it had been me. I’m the one he—”

“I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

She didn’t answer. Guilt and worry for Tony were eating away at her.

Mark sighed. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“No, I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, but you think more clearly on a full stomach.”

“If I eat now, I’ll be sick.”

“How about a soda?”

“Later, maybe. Is Daniel really dead, or were you just telling Tony that to calm him down?”

“Yeah, he’s dead. Body-bag dead.”

Hailey’s stomach churned. Daniel was dead. The man she’d spent eighteen months dating was gone. She’d kissed him, held his hand, cuddled with him…made love with him. Or what she thought was love. And less than a month after she’d broken up with him, he was dead. And if Mark hadn’t killed him, the three of them would probably be dead. She couldn’t feel relief because she still wasn’t convinced that Tony wouldn’t be joining Daniel. All because of her.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I am so very sorry.”

“Hailey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He didn’t say anymore but joined her in her vigil of the waiting room entrance. Every time she heard footsteps or voices in the hall, she sat up straight. When she saw it wasn’t the doctor, she slumped against the back of the chair and leaned into Mark. Every few minutes, sometimes more frequently, she checked the time. She paced. She sat. She tried to watch the news, but Tony’s ashen face and blood-soaked shirt overlaid the anchorman’s pleasantly serious expression and coat and tie.

She paced. She sat. She paced some more.

Mark watched her and the door. He played with his phone. When it rang, she sat beside him.

“Mark here.” A pause as the person on the other end spoke. “Good. I’ll see you then.” Another pause. “No, nothing yet. If I hear anything, I’ll call you.” He listened. “Okay. Have a good flight.” He closed the phone. “Tony’s parents. They’re at Hobby. Their flight is leaving on time.”

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I didn’t ask, but are you okay with the police? They’re not going to arrest you or anything, are they?”

He didn’t look at her when he answered. That shouldn’t have seemed odd. After all, he was as anxious to talk to Tony’s doctor as she was. But something seemed off. It finally hit her. He wasn’t really looking for the doctor to appear in the doorway. He was looking past it, his eyes unfocused. “I’m good.” Then he began to unemotionally list facts. “They found Daniel’s car down the road. You had the emergency protection order, and Daniel had already been arrested for attacking you. He shot Tony then shot at me. He was facing me. He was still on my property.”

When he finished, Hailey felt as if he’d just summarized his defense. If possible, her gut twisted tighter. “It sounds as if you’re trying to convince someone. Were the police suspicious? Did they charge you with anything?”

Mark flipped open his phone then closed it again. “No, but New Mexico’s self-defense laws aren’t as strong as Texas. We’ve got the video. That should help.”

“Did it show Tony…?”

“Yeah, it did.” His voice was rough, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Took him completely by surprise. No warning.”

The image of a bullet slamming into Tony played out in her head. His surprise, his confusion, his pain. He must have been so scared.

“Why would he try something like that when he knew we had cameras?” she asked. “Surely the police or his lawyer told him we had video of the first attack.”

“It wasn’t the house cameras that caught him. It was the garage camera. Maybe he didn’t think we had cameras that far from the house. Maybe he just wasn’t thinking. The bastard was obviously crazy.” He stood and paced to the door and back before sitting down again and fidgeting with his phone.

As she watched him, it began to sink in that he’d killed a man. He’d taken a life. Didn’t matter how good his reasons were. It had to be difficult. “How do you feel?” she asked softly.

“I’m worried about Tony. I’m worried about you.”

“No. I mean how do you feel about Daniel?”

“I’m glad you’re safe, that you don’t have to worry about him,” he murmured.

She sandwiched one of his hands between hers. His fingers were cold. He was stressed.

“I need to call Beth and let her know what’s happened. She’ll be expecting us in an hour,” Mark said abruptly.

The hearing for the permanent protection order was this morning. She’d forgotten about it.

He flipped open his phone, found Beth’s listing and punched Talk. As he explained what had happened and where they were, he walked out of the waiting room. His voice faded after he disappeared down the hall. Hailey was tempted to follow him. He was hiding something, but she didn’t feel right about invading his privacy to find out what it was.

For what had to be the hundredth time that morning, she checked her wrist for the time then realized she wasn’t wearing her watch. The news station had gone to commercial, so she dug her phone out of her purse and checked the time and messages. It was still too early to call Jake. Just as well. Not looking forward to that conversation.

She watched the tube, paced and sat. Finally, Mark returned.

“What are you hiding?” she asked, watching his expression closely for any tells.

“Is Chris Mills his surgeon?”

Hailey blinked. “Dr. Mills? Yes. Why?”

Mark’s head tilted toward the doorway she’d watched so carefully until a few seconds ago, and then he stood, reaching for her hand at the same time. She linked her fingers in his.

Dr. Mills was striding toward them. More importantly, he was smiling.

Hailey stood, but her legs buckled. Mark must have sensed her going down because he caught her around the waist with one arm.

“Easy,” he murmured as he maneuvered her back into the chair.

“He’s okay,” she croaked.

“Yeah, or Mills is a sadistic SOB.”

As soon as the doctor reached them he spoke. “The surgery went well. We got the bullet. No damage to any organs.”

“Oh, thank God,” Hailey breathed.

“Can we see him?” Mark asked.

“He’s in recovery. Awake, but groggy and worried about you two. We don’t typically allow visitors in recovery, but I think it would calm Tony if he could see for himself that you’re both alive and well.”

“I don’t understand. Is he having problems with his memory? He saw me before he went into surgery. He knew I was okay,” she said.

“It could be the anesthesia or blood loss, but I don’t think so,” Dr. Mills said. “I think it’s the violence of the crime he experienced. He’s trying to regain some control. I’m afraid that when the anesthesia wears off, he’ll walk out the front door if you aren’t with him.”

Hailey nodded. “How long will he have to stay here?”

“Not long. A few days max. Let’s walk while we talk.”

“Think your legs will hold you?” Mark asked.

Hailey placed the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “If it means seeing Tony, I’ll crawl.”

Mark chuckled but put his arm around her waist when she stood.

The doctor on one side of her, Mark on the other, they started through the maze of halls and doors. As they walked, Dr. Mills talked. “Don’t be alarmed when you see him. He looks worse than he is. He’s pale. We gave him some blood, but he’s been through a lot. He’s got an IV for fluids, meds and pain management. Plus, there are a bunch of monitors hooked up to him. The wound is bandaged, but there’s still some blood. All his vitals look good. Remember that when you see him.”

“So he looks like hell, but it’s what’s going on inside that counts,” Mark said.

“Yes. That’s it exactly.”

As Dr. Mills opened the door to the recovery room, Hailey heard Tony before she saw him. His words were slurred. “Put the damn bedrail down so I can get outta here.”

A woman’s stern voice floated to them. “Dr. Adamo, I can’t let you go anywhere until Dr. Mills releases you.”

“That’s bull, an’ you know it. This is a hospital, not a prison.”

This time, humor laced the woman’s words. “I could put the rail down, but if I did and you, by some miracle, managed to get your feet on the ground, I’d have to peel your body off the floor, where it would most likely end up within a matter of seconds. And after I peeled you off the floor and after Dr. Mills stitched up your wound for the
second
time, he would have my hide. So the bedrail stays up and you stay in bed and I keep my job.”

Hailey and Mark walked in on the end of the speech. Hailey added her support. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Tony’s whole body relaxed when he focused on Hailey and Mark. Then just as quickly he stiffened again. “You’ve been hurt.”

“No, we’re fine. We’re
both
fine.”

“There’s blood on your shirt.”

Hailey glanced down at the brownish-red spots and smears on the sleeves and across the belly of the Texas orange sweatshirt she’d borrowed from Mark. “That’s your blood, Tony,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not mine.”

His eyelids slipped shut as he asked, “Where the hell have you been?” But there was no anger in his words, only relief.

* * *

Two hours later, the three of them were in a private room.

Mark was in a mud-colored vinyl recliner next to the window, flipping through channels on the TV hanging from the ceiling. Hailey sat in a hard black plastic chair next to Tony on the side of the bed nearest the door. She held his hand while he slept. Before he’d drifted off, he’d made her promise not to leave. An easy enough promise to keep.

Abruptly, Mark turned off the TV. “It’s time to pick up his parents. Do you need anything before I leave?”

“No.”

He stood and stretched. “You sure? Bathroom break, water, soda, coffee?”

She smiled. “If I drink anything, I’ll have to go to the restroom. I promised to stay with him.”

He walked around the bed to stand over her. “Yeah, well, you have to go sometime.”

“If he’s awake when his parents get here, I’ll take five.”

He leaned down to kiss her, his lips warm and firm. “I’ll make sure you do,” he said before straightening up again. “I shouldn’t be gone long. Thirty or forty minutes max.”

Hailey’s stomach did a back flip. She was nervous about facing his parents and explaining what had happened. Her grip on Tony’s hand tightened. He stirred then grimaced before she took some deep breaths and relaxed her fingers.

Tony was still sleeping when his mom and dad tiptoed into the room forty-five minutes later. Hailey stood when they entered, her legs stiff from sitting for so long. Mrs. Adamo joined her at the side of the bed. Hailey released Tony’s hand so his mother could hold it. She tried to step back from the bed to give her more room, but Mrs. Adamo put her free arm around Hailey’s waist and hugged her, her eyes never leaving her son.

If Tony were shorter and more petite, he would be his mother. Dark hair, dark eyes, perfectly shaped full lips. Interesting that on him the look was one hundred percent pure masculinity, but on his mother it was purely feminine. The only thing he’d gotten from his dad was his size. Mr. Adamo was as tall as his son, but with darkish blond hair liberally threaded with gray and brown eyes.

He was a little green, and Hailey realized he was about to pass out. She hurried to his side and, with one arm around his waist and her hand at his elbow, guided him to the recliner. As soon as Mark realized what was going on, he helped her lower him to the seat.