My hand went to Calloway’s neck as I stayed on the line, feeling a distant pulse grow weaker and weaker. “Calloway, stay with me. Please stay with me.” Through my tears, I managed to talk to the operator and have them pinpoint my address.
And they were there in three minutes.
“Rome.” Christopher found me in the waiting room and took the seat beside me. His hand automatically went to mine. “Rome?”
I was in shock, my heart beating so fast and so slow at the same time. I was caked in blood, Calloway’s and Hank’s. I’d put my dress back on but felt disgusting wearing it since Hank had removed it in the first place. I’d cried so much that my body couldn’t handle it anymore. Now I’d hit rock bottom, feeling absolutely nothing but pure despair.
“Where’s Calloway?” Christopher had never held my hand once in our lifetime. It was a rare occasion to get a hug from him. I wasn’t sure why he was even down here. I hadn’t called him.
“He’s in surgery.” I got here four hours ago. I rode in the ambulance while the medics did everything they could to keep him alive. I had no other transportation since I’d been taken out there like a captive. Once we were in the hospital, I was pushed off to the side and told I would be given an update when they had one.
So far, I hadn’t heard anything.
“What…?” Christopher’s eyes narrowed as he squeezed my hand. “What happened? I got a call from Jackson that Hank had taken you… I didn’t realize Calloway had been hurt.”
That meant Jackson didn’t know. I should probably tell him. “I don’t really know what happened. He said Isabella shot him…then he passed out. I have no idea why he was with her or what they were doing…then he came to save me.” He could have taken himself to the hospital and told the cops where I’d been taken hostage, but he didn’t do that.
He risked his life to save mine.
Christopher squeezed my hand again. “I’m sure he’ll pull through. This is a great hospital, and he’s a strong guy. He can handle it.”
I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. I’d already shed all my tears over the past few hours. “If he doesn’t make it…”
“He will,” he said firmly. “That guy loves you too much to die. Just remember that.”
“I hope you’re right, Christopher…” I pulled my hand away and set it on my lap. My fingers interlocked together, and the despair crept further into my veins. When it reached my heart, I sighed and felt my eyes water. “I should call Jackson. It slipped my mind…”
“I’ll call him. Don’t worry about it.”
“Okay…”
Christopher patted my thigh before he pulled out his phone and walked away.
I closed my eyes and rested my face in my lap, wanting the darkness my own body provided. Calloway had a deadly wound that was complicated even to a skilled surgeon. Not even the strongest man could combat that. He lost a lot of blood on the drive from New York to Connecticut. I wasn’t even sure how he’d lasted that long.
Another four hours passed until I finally got some news. Calloway had pulled through the surgery without any complications. Now he was resting in ICU. As soon as the doctor said those words, I fell to my knees and sobbed.
Christopher thanked the doctor then kneeled beside me. “I told you he was gonna be okay.”
As relieved as I was, I was still terrified. I was terrified this happened at all, that I nearly lost the love of my life. My fingertips became pruned with my own tears because I’d been crying so much over the last four hours.
Christopher was patient with me, but after five minutes, he helped me to my feet. “Let’s go see him, huh?”
I nodded and wiped my tears away.
“Any news?” Jackson came from the opposite side of the room where he’d been sitting alone. His mood was dark, just the way Calloway’s was from time to time. His jaw was clenched so tightly I could hear his teeth ground together.
Christopher did the talking. “He pulled through. He’s in ICU.”
“Thank fucking god.” Jackson stepped back with his hands on his hips, his head bowed. He released a loud sigh before he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was gonna kill him if he died.”
“Let’s go.” Christopher led the way through the hospital until we arrived in ICU. Their visitor rules said only one person could be with Calloway at a time, to reduce the risk of infection. I washed my hands then stepped inside the room. Jackson didn’t try to fight me on it. He could have played the family card and won, but he didn’t.
When I walked inside, Calloway was lying on his back in the small bed. His feet reached the very end, and he looked too big for the average-size bed. A large tube was down his throat, and a machine breathed for him. An IV was in his arm, along with other tubes and wires.