Wreck Page 15

  They took his phone and listened on speakerphone. Ethan dropped his head as her ear splitting scream cut through him.

  Another officer walked to them. “I found another phone.”

  He spotted the flowery case. “That’s Shelby’s.”

  The Sergeant pushed some buttons on the phone and nodded. He handed Ethan both phones. “Her last call was to you.”

  Zak walked in as they were loading Shelby onto a gurney.

  “Are you done with me, sir?” Ethan asked.

  “You’re free. Take care of her.”

  He didn’t have time to explain it to Zak, but he didn’t need to. The scene said it all.

  “I’m going with Shelby. You take care of things here?”

  “Got it,” Zak replied.

  Ethan rushed out the door right behind the medics.

  “Sir, you can’t ride in the ambulance, but you can follow us in.”

  He wanted to argue, but that only meant slowing up medical attention for her. He nodded, ran down to hop in his old beater truck, and was behind the ambulance as they pulled out and another pulled in. For Andrew, he assumed, as if he cared.

  The truck windows were down, the sky was blue, and the air held a hint of fall. But his world was crashing around him. He had decided to leave her, but how much that girl meant to him was starting to sink in. The wind whipped away the tears that stained his cheeks.

  He was pacing the waiting room, his hands laced behind his neck, when a rush of people came through the doors. He didn’t look up, but two sets of arms wrapped around him.

  “Oh my God, is she okay?” Lila asked as she looked up at him. Cassie was right there with her.

  He looked from the bright blue eyes of Lila to the green ones of Cassie. He didn’t have an answer. They hadn’t told him anything yet. He saw Thrand and Ryan hovering in the background, frowns marring their faces.

  “Ethan?”

  He jerked toward the voice in scrubs and strode over to her.

  “I’m Ethan. Is Shelby okay?”

  The nurse masked her surprise well, but he could tell she was taken aback by his appearance.

  “She’s asking for you. Are you a relative?”

  He groped with an answer and muttered, “I’m her boyfriend.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You do this to her?”

  He stepped back. “Fuck no.”

  She nodded. “Come on.”

  He glanced back at the crew and followed the nurse through the halls. “She has a concussion. Her arm had been pulled out of socket, and we already reset it. Her face is just bruised as far as we can tell. X-rays revealed no orbital damage. CT scan was negative, but she will need a full neurological exam. Nothing seems to be broken, but she has a lot of bruises.”

  His stomach lurched at the barrage of medical terminology hitting him. The nurse turned when they reached a closed curtain.

  “Hey, you all right?” The nurse touched his arm.

  He managed a nod, but voice was beyond him at the moment.

  “They will be moving her to a room shortly. They want to keep a check on the concussion.” She gave his arm a little squeeze. “She will be fine. Just give her time.”

  “Thanks,” he mumbled, and she opened the curtain.

  Shelby lay still and small in the bed. IV’s and monitors were hooked up to her, and his knees damn near buckled. He shuffled over to the right side and touched her hand.

  “Shelby.”

  Her busted lip twitched, and she turned her head toward him even though she couldn’t open her eyes. “Ethan. Don’t leave me.”

  “Right here. Not going anywhere.” He kissed her hand and watched her drift off to sleep.

  They moved her to a room, and she was resting quietly, while he sat in a chair, his head on her bed, his hand gripping hers. Scared wasn’t what he felt. Terror. Unholy terror that he would lose her flipped through his head like a broken reel. His chest tight, he prayed to whatever, or whoever, would listen to him. Sell his hellish soul, whatever it took. He just wanted her well and whole.

  The quiet tread of feet alerted him someone was in the room. He wiped his face on her sheets and looked up to the gang. Their faces were solemn.

  “How is she?” Thrand asked while holding Cassie’s hand.

  Ethan cleared his throat. “They are watching for swelling of the brain. Her left arm had been pulled out of socket, so they reset it. But no broken bones. Her face is just bruised.”

  He’d stumbled over the words, and Lila’s and Cassie’s small gasps didn’t help his state of mind. He was close to losing it when John stepped through the doors. Ethan jumped up and blocked Shelby from him.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Ethan growled.

  “I’m her stepfather. You need to step aside. This is not your place.” John wore a dark expensive suit and stood there with self-importance Ethan would love to smash right through.

  “My place is where she wants me. And she wants me here. You…you brought that asshole here and let him hurt her. You get the fuck out.”

  A whimper behind Ethan had him spinning around and taking Shelby’s hand. “Right here, babe.”

  Hackles rose on the back of Ethan’s neck when John stepped to the foot of her bed.

  “It’s obvious who did this, and it wasn’t Andrew.”

  “No,” Shelby cried and thrashed backwards on the bed. Alarms and buzzers started going off.

  Ethan tried to calm her, but she sat up, swayed, then clung to Ethan’s arm.

  Nurses came running in and rushed his friends out and attempted to make John leave as well.

  “I am her stepfather. He,” John pointed to Ethan, “is the one who should be leaving.”

  Ethan was sitting on her bed, and it was all he could do to keep Shelby from crawling out of it, but now, she was scrambling into his lap.

  “Baby, you have to stay calm,” Ethan said, his nerves near the breaking point.

  “Don’t leave me,” she pleaded in broken sobs.

  “Ms. Renner. You must get back in bed,” a nurse said.

  Shelby screamed when they tried to force her, and it cut through him like a knife. Her body shook and trembled against him while he held her tightly.

  “Make him leave, and she will calm down. It’s John that’s causing this,” Ethan barked and glared at John.

  Finally, a stout nurse stepped into the room and assessed the situation.

  “Who are you?” she asked John.

  “Her stepfather, John.”

  Shelby buried her face in Ethan’s chest, her one good arm wound tight into his still bloody and greasy shirt.

  The nurse’s eyes turned and pierced him. “You her husband, fiancé, boyfriend?”

  “Ethan, boyfriend.” This time he stated it firmly. No hesitation while he held his girl.

  “Obviously, John, you are the problem,” the nurse declared.

  “I don’t think so. He has no right to be here. I do.” John’s condescending tone rang loud in the room.

  Ethan didn’t think it possible, but Shelby tightened her hold on him.

  “You brought the asshole who did this to her. She doesn’t want you here.”

  The nurse hissed and turned on John, hands on her hips. “Ms. Renner is my patient and, you sir, need to leave. You are upsetting her, and she needs calm. She has a concussion if you didn’t already know.”

  “I don’t care what she needs, I’m not leaving.”

  The nurse narrowed her eyes and pointed at another lady in scrubs. “Call security. I want this man out of here.”

  John blanched and puffed out his chest while the other lady shot out to do the nurse’s bidding. “You can’t seriously let that heathen stay and run me out?”

  “Currently, that heathen is who she wants. I do what my patient needs. Nothing more.”

  Heavy footfalls announced the arrival of two big, burly guys in security uniforms.

  “Fine. But this isn’t over.” John marched out, the guards following.


  Ethan pushed a tendril of her hair behind Shelby’s ear. “He’s gone. It’s okay. You need to lay back down, darlin’. Rest. I’ll be here.”

  He settled her back into the bed and pried her hand from his shirt. He brushed his lips across a part of her skin that wasn’t marred, and she released a shaky breath before calming.

  “You got the magic touch. I’m Mary. The head nurse on this floor.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.” Ethan fell into the chair, his hand still touching Shelby’s.

  “You can stay. But you need clean clothes.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  She gave him a smile. “Only a heathen wouldn’t care about the welfare of my patients.”

  He might have appreciated her compliment had the knot in his stomach not been churning and the echo of Shelby’s screams not been etched into his brain.

  Thrand walked in behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Mary explained that only two at a time could come in.”

  Ethan nodded and glanced up. “Can you get me some clean clothes? She’s letting me stay on that condition.”

  Thrand’s face was tight. “Sure. Whatever you need, man. Let us know. And she’ll be all right. I’ll call Zak and give him the update.”

  “Thanks.” It was all Ethan could manage.

  The next day, Ethan stood against the back wall, arms crossed over his chest, while the doctors and nurses examined Shelby. They were concerned about swelling in her head. She wasn’t responding to them, so they were moving her to ICU. The doctor turned to explain to him that if it became a problem, they would have to drain the pressure.

  Ethan didn’t ask how the hell they would do that.

  After the doctors left, he walked to the bed and traced her small fingers. “Shelby, you have to get better. I’m going to call Skye for you. I think you would like her here.”

  Nothing.

  It wasn’t long before there was a flurry of activity, and they were moving her bed and all up to ICU. He was hot on their heels, not letting her out of his sight unless he had to. It was all he could do to hold himself together. Once they got her settled, he fell into another uncomfortable chair and stared at her still form.

  He swallowed hard and rubbed his face, looked at her phone, and hit contacts. The first name on the list was Andrew’s. He gritted his teeth and deleted the fucker’s number. She didn’t need to see that name. He scrolled through, found Skye, and hit send.

  He walked to the small window and stared out as it rang.

  “It’s about time you called me, girl. You were supposed to give me the digs on this new guy. And don’t even tell me he’s just a friend. I know you too well.”

  Ethan cleared his throat. “Is this Skye?”

  The girl on the other end stuttered to a halt. “Who is this? Why do you have my girl’s phone? This is Shelby’s phone, right?”

  “Yes. This is Ethan.”

  “You’re the guy she’s crushing on. Sweet southern drawl, by the way. Why are you calling me from her phone?”

  He tapped his fingers against his leg in that familiar pattern and glanced at Shelby. “She’s been hurt.”

  “How? Why? What happened?”

  Skye talked faster than his brain could think. “Andrew—”

  “That mother fucker. What did he do this time?”

  “She’s in the hospital—”

  Her gasp of outrage cut him off again. “I’m on my way. Text me the basics, and I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

  With that, Skye hung up.

  Ethan dropped his hand, phone still in hand.

  What did he do this time?

  He should have killed the bastard when he had a chance. She’d suffered at the hands of that prick, and no one had stood up for her. What had Andrew done that she’d not told him about?

  He slid down the wall and hung his head. He should have done more. Protected her better. He should have been in the house with her, not hiding from her like a punk. It was his fault she’d been hurt.

  He lifted the phone, texted Skye the extent of Shelby’s injuries, what hospital she was in, and then let it clatter to the floor. He shoved both hands in his hair, elbows on his knees. He didn’t move when a nurse came in to check on her.

  Weary and tired, he couldn’t shut off his brain and all the ‘what ifs’ his OCD did to him wouldn’t give him rest.

  What if he would have been in the house with her?

  What if he hadn’t gotten there in time?

  What if she had brain damage?

  What if she died?

  He choked on the last and shot to his feet. Frantic, he sat on the edge of her bed and laced his hand with hers. “Shelby, listen to me. You have to get well. You have to come back to me. I can’t…”

  He rubbed his eyes, his throat tight with fear.

  All their friends came and went. They brought him coffee. Food. He finally took a shower, but only while Zak stayed with her. He sat, hunched over, and stared at Shelby. Her face was black and blue, a bruise marked her throat, and her left arm was in a sling. His phone pinged, and he looked at the screen.

  Mick: Are you at the hospital?

  Yup

  Mick: heads up, you’ll be getting a visit from the police.

  I already told them everything

  Mick: it’s about Spaz. Just be honest with ’em

  That wasn’t reassuring.

  “Looks like I’m going to get another visit from Nashville’s finest.” He looked at Zak who slouched in the same kind of shitty chair he sat in, a coffee in his hand. He had stuck with him even if the only thing to do was watch crappy TV and listen to Shelby’s monitor’s beep eerily in the quiet.

  “What now?” Zak asked.

  “Spaz.”

  “Mick ever say what him and Dooley did with him?”

  “No. He didn’t. Just said it was taken care of.” Whatever the fuck that meant.

  Zak grunted in response.

  It wasn’t two hours later when the cops showed up.

  “Mr. Tackett, we need a word with you.” Oddly enough it was the same sergeant who showed at Shelby’s. This should be good.

  “You stay with her?” Ethan asked Zak.

  “Yup.”

  He walked out into the hall with the officers, and they motioned for him to move to an empty room.

  “I’ve told you everything, sir,” Ethan said, not wanting to give any indication that he was here for anything other than Shelby.

  “Not why I need to speak to you.” The officer flipped open his pad, a pen in hand. “Do you know a Danny Tackett?”

  “Yeah.” He shoved his hands in his jean pockets and thought hard before he responded. “He’s supposedly my father.”

  Sargent Marley narrowed his eyes. “Supposedly?”

  “Yeah. I know him as Spaz. He was the drug dealer who fed my mom drugs, which killed her when I was nine. I never knew he was my dad, until he showed up here, looking for me.”

  “So he didn’t raise you?”

  “Fuck no. I grew up in the Georgia foster system. Uncle Mick found me not too long ago. I’ve only been here about a year.” He never gave out that much information so easily, especially to cops, but he wanted to get back to Shelby.

  “Danny Tackett was found dead in an alley. Beaten to death, it appears. We don’t have a full coroner’s report yet.” Marley eyed him. “You know anything about it?”

  “Not a thing.”

  “Where were you two days ago at about three a.m.?”

  “Here. With Shelby. Nurses can verify that.”

  “He went by Spaz, you say?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t know his real name until recently.”

  “Do you want to handle his affairs?”

  Ethan laughed bitterly. “Hell no. I want nothing to do with him. Alive or dead.”

  “You will need to come down to the station to sign some papers as soon as you can.” Marley tucked his pen in his shirt.

  “I’m not leaving here until Sh
elby can go home.”

  “How’s she doing, by the way?” His steely gaze softened a bit.

  Ethan paused…this guy cared. He hadn’t run into many cops that did. Most were too full of themselves to give two shits.

  “The same. They are worried about the swelling.”

  Marley handed him a business card and he took it. “Anything changes, let me know. I need a statement from her when’s she able.”

  He held out his hand and Ethan shook it.

  “Take care, Tackett.” Then he strode out.

  Odd. Ethan had the vague impression the guy respected him.

  He went back to Shelby’s room where nothing had changed.

  Another day passed, but this time the doctor had good news. The swelling was going down, and she should be waking up soon. It was a tiny relief, but with her lying there motionless, he was afraid the doctors were wrong. After they left, he stood in her doorway, watching all the nurses come and go. Most knew him and would give him a nod and sympathetic smile. More than once, the head nurse would talk to him and reassure him.

  He must really look like shit.

  He noticed a girl wandering down the hall at a clipped pace. She looked like she just walked off the cover of a punk magazine. Torn up jeans, a tee with something sparkly on it, a shit load of light brown hair, and a large messenger bag.

  She stopped at the desk. “Can you tell me where Shelby Renner is?”

  Ethan glanced at Shelby before he stepped away from the door toward the girl. “Are you Skye?”

  She whipped her head around and gaped. He shoved his hands in his back pockets and waited while she took her sweet time looking him up and down. He was so used to this it bored him.

  “Holy hells. Are you Ethan?”

  “Yup. She’s in this room.” He turned and walked back to Shelby. He didn’t have the energy to put up with shallow shit. If Skye wanted to judge, let her judge.

  He leaned down to Shelby’s ear and touched her head. “Darlin’, Skye is here to see you.”

  He looked up to Skye. Her hand covered her mouth, and tears streamed down her face.

  Hell.

  She lifted the strap of her bag over her head, dropped it, and shuffled over to Shelby.

  “Hey, Mouse,” Skye said as she wiped her tears.