Chapter Twenty-One

Ashton

I willed the car to go faster.

“Can we hurry?” I asked the taxi driver again.

“Not unless you want to pay the speeding ticket lady,” he shot back in a gruff tone.

“Buddy, you think I care about a speeding ticket?” I argued. “Whatever it takes. My boyfriend is in the hospital and I need to get to him as soon as possible.

“If I go any faster we both may end up in the hospital too. We’ll be there in ten minutes tops,” he assured me. “Calm the hell down.”

I laid my head back and allowed my eyes to flutter closed for a few seconds. When Quinn’s mom had called and said he’d been in an accident, I had been at work. Quinn had been driving his grandmother to an appointment earlier in the day. Mrs. Andrews had explained that a commercial truck sideswiped the Mercedes. His grandmother didn’t make it. She had passed within a couple of hours after the accident. Quinn was still in and out of consciousness and in critical care.

Henri offered up his private jet to fly me down so I’d made it to Florida in less than three hours. It felt like a snake of fear had constricted my throat. My heart hadn’t stopped pounding for hours. I didn’t know what I would do if I lost Quinn. Especially after everything we had been through.

Please hurry, please hurry.

I prayed for the congestion to open up and allow the taxi through, for time to stand still so I could get to the hospital on time.

“Relax lady, we’re almost there.” The cab driver turned off the highway and I could see Sacred Heart Hospital in the distance. As the three-story brick building got closer, my anxiety shifted into overdrive, and worry flowed over me. Would I make it on time? What if Quinn had taken a turn for the worse? I checked my phone for messages. Nothing. Surely, that was a good sign?

Glass half full, Ashton. That’s the kind of girl you are. I told myself over and over that Quinn would be okay. I willed it to be true. He had to be okay. We didn’t just go through all of this, finding each other again after ten years, and realizing that we were made for each other, for Quinn not to pull through this tragic accident.

“Where do you want me to drop you off?” the driver asked, pulling into the parking area.

“Front entrance is fine,” I said, throwing three twenties over the glass partition. “Thanks, keep the change.”

I grabbed my bags and rushed through the front sliding glass doors. My heart pounded out of control along with my frantic panting. An elderly lady manned the receptionist desk and I quickly asked her for directions to the ICU floor. She pointed to a nearby bank of elevators and I yelled ‘thanks’ over my shoulder as I hopped on an open car, bags trailing behind me.

Pressing a button for the fourth floor I blew out a breath. I was so frazzled that I didn’t realize someone else was in the elevator with me.

“Ashton?” a voice called out.

I turned to find Mr. Albertson standing next to me.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Albertson. I didn’t see you…”

He laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I just came in from outside. I needed to get a breath of fresh air. I saw you get out of the cab and held the elevator for you.”

Trying to stay calm and steady my nerves, I asked, “How is he?”

He gave my shoulder a squeeze as my heart thudded against my chest. “The doctor’s just met with the family. He’s conscious now and they think he’s going to pull through okay.”

A flood of relief coursed through my body and a tear of joy slid down my flushed cheek. “Thank God.”

“There are some pretty bad injuries, plus a question of how damaged his brain was by the impact. I’m sure the doctor can explain it better than I can. Quinn still needs our support and prayers more than anything.”

It was all I could do to shake my head and stem a stream of tears from falling down my face. Quinn was still alive. I would take that. One day at time. We would get through this together. I vowed then and there not to leave his bedside until he was out the woods.

“You know that boy really loves you,” Albertson continued.

“I know,” I nodded, keeping words to a minimum. The lump of emotion in my throat didn’t allow for more. “I feel the same.”

“Good. I think you two make a great couple,” Albertson said, not letting go of my shoulder. A solid pressure of compassion. “And I don’t want you to worry about anything else right now.” The elevator screeched to a stop and the doors opened. He took my hand and guided me down the hallway. “Now let’s go see him.”

* * *

Mr. Albertson had warned me about Quinn’s physical condition but that hadn’t really prepared me for the overwhelming feelings of helplessness when my eyes saw him lying frail and battered between the metal rails of his bed. Wires and lines snaked around limp arms and an oxygen mask covered most of his swollen face. So many bruises and so much crusted blood covered his face he wasn’t recognizable.

I hovered at his bedside while Albertson spoke in low tones to Quinn’s parents. After a few moments, I realized we were alone.

“Quinn, it’s me. Ashton,” I said, remembering that patients can still hear you when they’re unconscious. I pulled an orange, vinyl chair up next to his bed and sat down. Reaching down to grab his hand, I stroked the inside of his cold, clammy palm. “I got here as soon as I could.”

No signs that he heard me but that was to be expected. His mom indicated that he had been in and out of consciousness since they brought him back from another CT scan. They were checking for swelling on the brain. So far, the medication they had him on was working and the swelling was subsiding, releasing the pressure in his skull. However, there was the matter of his left leg as well. It was severely damaged during the accident. Doctors weren’t hopeful it would recover and they discussed amputating it below the knee.

My time in ICU with Quinn wasn’t nearly enough. The doctor only gave each of us fifteen minutes every hour to visit and an exception had been made for me because I technically wasn’t family. Rest was imperative so the medication could do the intended job and continue to decrease the swelling. I wanted to use my short time to tell him how much I loved him. If he’d only open his eyes, even for a moment, I could say the words. In the meantime, I hoped he knew that I was here with him. And I wasn’t going to leave his side again. Ever.

This afternoon, I sat still in my favorite orange cushioned vinyl chair and called his name in a voice just above a whisper. I heard nothing in response but the beeping of the heart monitor. As I glanced out the window at the palm trees swaying on the ocean breeze, a movement caught my eye. Quinn’s eyelids had fluttered!

“You had me very worried,” I soothed as I continued to stroke his icy hand. “But your mom said you’re going to pull through just fine, baby. I want you to know that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere until you’re better.”

Quinn squeezed my hand without much strength. I almost missed it at first.

“I’m going to stay here as long as it takes. I’m not leaving here until you get out of this place.”

He gave my hand another light squeeze as tears flowed down my face. His eyes never fully opened but at least he was aware of my presence. I took a moment to say a prayer for him. I pleaded with God to heal Quinn and also to thank Him for giving us another shot at love.

I sat there holding his hand and talking to Quinn for another fifteen minutes when the nurse kicked me out of the room. He still hadn’t opened his eyes.