Chapter Nine

Carmela burst through the hospital’s main entrance with her hair a wet, tangled mess, wearing the first top and pair of jeans she’d found in the closet, and a terrible sense of déjà vu stalking her. This was like Miami all over again, rushing to the hospital while not knowing if one of the most important men in her life was dead or alive.

Only this time, it was the most important man in her life.

Thirty seconds out of the shower, getting ready to go pick her mom up at the airport, she’d gotten the call from her brother. His words had hit her like a shockwave.

You need to get up here to the hospital. Our plane crashed. Sawyer’s hurt bad.

She didn’t even remember the drive here, barely remembered her frantic call to her mom, who was on a plane heading up here right now. She wasn’t even sure her mom would be able to understand the message she’d left, her voice had been unrecognizable, even to her. Mom, the team’s been in a plane crash. Sawyer’s hurt bad. I’m heading to the hospital now.

All she knew was Sawyer had been caught in the blast when the plane exploded. No one knew how extensive or severe his injuries were.

God, she couldn’t believe she’d been so annoyed with him yesterday about his lack of enthusiasm over the wedding plans. What the hell did it all matter now? She’d been so caught up in the details, wanting her own way, pushing him on each point to get him to agree when she knew damn well he didn’t want any of it.

She felt sick over it, and also that she hadn’t taken the time to say a proper goodbye before he’d walked out their door this morning. The terror of losing him had wiped all the unimportant things away, showing her what really mattered. She only hoped she got to make amends and honor his feelings the way she should have all along.

Frantic to get to him, she flew around the corner and almost barreled into a wide chest. Strong hands caught her, steadied her, and she jerked her head up, looking into eyes the exact same golden brown as hers.

Her throat closed up. “Ethan.”

Her brother gathered her into a tight hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. “Hey, hon.”

She set her hands flat on his chest and pushed, meeting his eyes. He had little nicks on his left cheek and his face was streaked with grime and smoke, but otherwise he seemed fine. She shoved that worry aside and focused solely on Sawyer. “What’s happening? How is he?”

“He’s gonna be okay.”

Carmela stopped breathing for an instant, searching his eyes. Was he lying? People always said things like that when they were trying to calm someone down. Break it to them gently. “You better not be lying to me right now.” She’d never forgive him if he was.

“I’m not. He’s awake and talking. That’s great news. I don’t know anything else, the staff kicked me out of the treatment area while they were looking at him. They took him down for x-rays and a CT scan.”

Relief hit her so hard she sagged, her knees melting like hot candle wax. Ethan caught her with a muttered curse and held her tighter. “You swear?”

“I swear.”

“I want to see him.” She had to, before she lost her mind with worry. She wouldn’t believe Sawyer was going to be okay until she saw him with her own eyes. And going to be okay was not the same as being okay. Did he have broken bones? A concussion? Did he need surgery of some sort? Not being able to be there with him when he was injured and in pain was like a knife in her chest, slowly twisting.

Ethan rubbed a hand up and down her back. “I know. I’ll take you up as soon as they give us the okay.”

She expelled a deep sigh, cleared her head. “How’s Schroder doing?”

Ethan’s entire face tightened. “Still in surgery, last I heard. It doesn’t look good.”

“Poor Taya. Has she got anyone with her?”

“Yeah, Briar.”

Carmela leaned back to stare at him, raising her brows. “Briar?” She’d been a loner for so long, even social get togethers like last night’s barbecue were still hard for her. Not that Briar would ever admit it. Probably not even under torture. That woman was as tough as they came, just one of the things Carmela admired about her.

Her brother nodded. “Rest of the team is waiting down there too.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Just before takeoff, Schroder told us Taya’s pregnant.”

“Oh,” she breathed, covering her mouth with one hand. “Oh, that’s just so sad…”

“Yeah, this fuckin’ sucks.”

She shook her head, trying to take it all in. “What the hell happened, anyway?”

“Nobody knows yet. Sounded like we were taking ground fire. Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam, all these impacts hitting us just after takeoff. I doubt anyone was shooting at us, so the only other possibility that makes sense are multiple bird strikes in the props that got sucked into the engines or something.”

Ethan took her to a small lounge off the main hallway where his fiancée, Marisol, was waiting. As soon as they walked in Soli jumped up and embraced Carmela. “You okay?” her friend asked her.

Carmela squeezed her hard. “Much better than I was for the past half an hour, yeah. Where’s everybody else?”

“In another waiting room with Taya.”

“Ah. God, poor Taya.”

“Yeah.”

Ethan pressed a cup of hot coffee into her hands. Together they sat killing time, watching the minutes tick past on the clock beside the door as they waited for word on Sawyer’s condition.

Carm’s phone rang with her mother’s distinctive ringtone. “Hi, Mami,” she answered, and immediately got a barrage of frantic Spanish in her ear. “I haven’t seen him yet, they’re still doing tests.” She paused while her mother launched into another worried burst of words, did what she could to calm her. “Yes, Ethan’s fine. I’m sitting with him and Soli right now.”

Ethan and Marisol were both watching her as she hung up a few minutes later. “She’s coming straight here from the airport,” Carm told them, then added to Ethan, “And you’re on her shit list for not answering your phone—”

She broke off when the door opened and a nurse poked her head in. “You must be Agent Vance’s family.”

Carmela shot to her feet. “Yes. I’m his fiancée.”

The nurse nodded and gestured for her to come toward the door. “He’s up in his room now. All the tests are done and we’re just waiting for the results. He’s conscious and alert, which are both good signs. You can go up and see him if you want.”

“Yes.” She barely refrained from bulldozing the nurse over on her way into the hall, Ethan and Soli right behind her.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as they rode up to the fourth floor and started down another hallway. Trepidation twined inside her, tying her stomach in knots. She was desperate to see Sawyer, but afraid of what she’d find. They’d been on the cusp of making their dreams come true by getting married. This would impact everything.

She drew herself up, raised her chin. When she walked into that room she was not going to fall apart. She would be strong for him. Stand by him no matter what happened.

The nurse paused before a door and gave a sympathetic smile. “He might be a little groggy from the medication.”

“That’s okay.” As long as he knew she was there and could respond, that’s all that mattered to her right now.

Turning the corner, she held her breath. Beneath the thin blanket covering the bed, the outline of feet came into view. Her gaze traveled up the legs, to the strong arms, an IV taped to one of them, and finally up to his face.

She smothered a gasp, fought to hold it together, and approached the bed. His eyes were swollen shut, the bruising all around them evident even with his dark skin. He had a line of stitches that extended down the left side of his scalp that veered over to his forehead. A bandage started at the top of his sternum and disappeared beneath the light blue gown he wore.

God, he looked like he’d gone a dozen, bare knuckle rounds with a heavyweight fighter.

Standing beside him, gazing down at that poor, ravaged face she wanted to kiss all over, she curled her hand around his, aware of Ethan and Marisol hovering near the foot of the bed. “Sawyer? Baby, I’m here. Can you hear me?”

His eyelids twitched, a frown pulling at his eyebrows as his head slowly turned toward her. “Car…Carm?” His voice was hoarse.

Tears flooded her eyes, but a smile stretched her lips. She cupped his right cheek with her free hand, pressed his scraped and bloody knuckles to her lips. “Yeah. I’m here.”

WHATEVER THEY’D GIVEN him had knocked him on his ass and made everything fuzzy.

Sawyer tried to force his heavy, swollen eyelids apart, his face angled toward that beautiful, familiar voice. Managing to open his eyes a slit, he squinted up into Carmela’s gorgeous, worried face. “Hey.” He even attempted a smile for her.

She pressed his hand to her cheek and leaned over him, the scent of her shampoo and perfume wrapping him in comfort. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

“I’m good.” Actually, he felt like a five-ton truck had run over him. “Can still move my legs and arms.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.” There was someone standing at the foot of his bed. He squinted harder, made out Ethan’s drawn face, and Marisol beside him. “Hey, brother.”

Ethan stepped forward to clasp his hand, squeezed tight. “Good to see you, man.”

He focused on the woman at his side. “Hey, Soli.”

She shot him a relieved smile. “Hi, Sawyer. You gave us all one hell of a scare.”

“Yeah, you did,” Carmela murmured, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “God, you’re a mess.”

“Nah, I’m all right.” He cleared his throat, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. His best friend and fiancée were on either side of him, each holding one of his hands. Anchoring him in his confusion.

His family. And they would never abandon him, no matter what. He swallowed hard, trying to force his throat open. Christ, what were they pumping into him that was making him this way?

He turned his head to the left, focused on Ethan. “What happened?”

His friend’s face shuttered. “You and Schroder went back to help some wounded crewmembers, and the plane exploded.”

Sawyer didn’t remember that. There were only little snippets. The last one of Ethan’s face hovering directly over his, his expression urgent as he talked to him. Hold on, Saw. You gotta hold on for me, brother. “How’s Doc?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened and he squeezed Sawyer’s hand. “He’s still in surgery. But it… It doesn’t look good.”

Aww, shit, no. Not Doc. Not him, and not now that he had a baby on the way.

“Everybody else is waiting with Taya downstairs,” Carm said to him, her thumb gliding gently over his cheek. “We just have to stay positive, hope for the best.”

“What about you, buddy? You in pain?” Ethan asked.

“Not too bad.” He hurt fucking everywhere, but the headache was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. Even the light hurt. “Docs said I didn’t break anything, just rung my bell really good.”

“So no surgery?” Carm asked, an anxious note in her voice. He felt bad that she’d had such a scare, that she’d been so worried.

“Naw. Unless they found something bad on my scans.”

“Your poor eyes,” she whispered, kissing his forehead again.

“Hey, at least they still work. Just a little swollen, is all.” And so was his tongue, apparently, because his words sounded slurred, even to his own ears. God, what a bitch of a day, and he hoped like hell that Schroder battled through this. Everyone would be gutted if they lost him.

The realization of how close he’d come to death today settled over him like a suffocating fog. He pushed it all back and focused on the positive, so damn glad to have Carm and Ethan here.

Carmela leaned over to rest her forehead against his gently. “Baby, I’m so sorry that I pushed you about the wedding.”

The guilt in her voice made him frown. “What? No, it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not, and I feel awful about it now.” She tucked her face into the curve of his neck, the caress of her hair against his face soothing. “I don’t care about venues, how many people are there, or menus, or stupid flower arrangements. I just want to marry you. So if you still want something small, then we’ll do something small.”

Sawyer tugged his hand free and reached up to slide it into the thick fall of her hair. “I love you.”

She pressed closer, seeking comfort as much as he drank it in from her. “God, I love you too.”

Exhaustion began to creep through his body. Carmela and Ethan’s lowered voices murmured somewhere in the background, growing more distant by the second. He allowed his eyes to close completely and let himself drift, both his hands held by two of the people he loved most.

The next thing he knew he jerked awake as a stream of breathless Spanish hit him from over by the doorway. He forced his eyes open, still couldn’t see much through the tiny gap between the lids. Ethan and Marisol were gone but Carm was still beside him. She was looking toward the door with a deep frown, and shaking her head.

“Mami, shhh, you’ll wake him,” she admonished in a whisper.

Mami?

Sawyer jerked his shuttered gaze toward the door. The sight of the woman standing there made his heart turn over and caused a huge grin to spread across his face. “Mama Cruz,” he mumbled, his tongue feeling like it was made of cotton.

Chest heaving as she panted, out of breath as though she’d just run a mile, Mama Cruz let out a sob and rushed at him, practically shoving her daughter out of the way to get to his bedside.

Two plump, surprisingly strong arms wound around his neck, and a pair of lips dropped kisses over his forehead and cheeks. “Sawyer. Ai, mi hijo.” She gulped back a sob and kept babbling in rapid-fire Spanish, a litany of relief and gratitude he only caught snippets of.

Still grinning, Sawyer lifted a hand to pat her back. “I’m okay, Mama.” Shit, this woman melted him faster than ice cream on a hot Oklahoma summer day. It had only been him and his strict, hard-ass father growing up. Having this big-hearted woman accept him as her own son meant the world to him.

“You are not okay,” she retorted in her adorable accent, displaying more of that Puerto Rican fire that he so loved about her and Carm.

She pulled back and framed his face with her small hands, gave him a watery smile. “But you will be. Carmelita and I will see to it.” She straightened, determination stamped into every loveable feature. “Now. What do we need to do to get you more comfortable, ah? You want your bed adjusted maybe? Some food? Or maybe a quick wash, hm?” She yanked down the sleeve of her sweater and started rubbing at the side of his face, an annoyed scowl creasing her forehead. “You are filthy. I can’t believe they wouldn’t at least clean you up.”

The sleeve must not have worked, because she scowled harder and licked her finger before rubbing at something on his face.

Mom spit. So gross, but it was so damn endearing that she would treat him as one of her own, he didn’t care.

The thought of her giving him a sponge bath made him cringe inside. He loved her to death, but he didn’t want her seeing him naked. “No, I’m fine for now—”

“Ach!” She thrust a warning finger at him, that stern look on her face that told him not to argue. Without waiting for a response she turned to Carmela, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide a smile. “You go get the nurse, so we can get our boy what he needs.”

“No, there’s a call button right here,” Carm said, reaching for it.

Her mother leveled that same warning finger at her, one eyebrow cocked in a silent command anyone who knew her would recognize instantly. Resistance was futile. Way easier to just do as she said, and then no one got hurt. “Don’t say to me no.” She clapped her hands, waved them at the door in a shooing motion. “Go. Go, go.”

Carm sighed, got up and did as she was told.

When it was just the two of them, Sawyer laid there and said nothing as Mama Cruz fussed with his bed, raising the head and feet until she deemed it was perfect, then fluffed his pillow and settled it beneath the back of his neck.

All the while he thanked his blessings for being alive and whole…and prayed for his teammate who was battling for his life somewhere downstairs right now.