More silence followed. Then Deacon said, “I really fucking hate car accidents. One second everything is fine and the next . . .”
Knox couldn’t let that one go, especially since he’d had that same flash of fear about the fragility of life. “Someone close to you die in a car accident?”
“My brother.”
“I’m sorry.” He paused for a moment. “Older brother? Younger?”
“My twin brother.”
“Fuck, Deacon. That’s awful. How long ago?”
“We were fifteen.”
Now Deacon’s deflection when anyone asked him about his family made sense.
“So being in the hospital is a special kind of torture for me. And I don’t mind telling you, man, I’m about to run the fuck outta here now before I run the fuck outta here screaming.”
“Then go,” Knox urged. “I’m grateful you drove me here. You can’t go back to the medical rooms with me, and after hearing that, I won’t make you sit out here in misery and wait.”
“Thanks. I just . . .” He laced his fingers together and set them on his head. “Fuck.” Then he dropped his arms by his sides again.
“Go. I’ll text you or call you when I’ve got news.”
Deacon nodded.
Before Knox returned to his seat, he said, “I’ve known you for what? Four years? What made you tell me this today?”
Deacon finally looked at him. “You trusted me with your secret; I’m trusting you with mine.” Then he walked out.
Twenty thousand fucking years passed after Deacon left, in which Knox stared at the floor.
Every time the door opened he’d turn and look, hoping they’d call for him. At last when the door opened he turned and heard what he’d been waiting for.
“Hirano family?”
Knox nearly leaped to his feet. “Yes, I’m here.”
The nurse said, “Come with me.”
He followed her through the maze of curtained-off areas and down a hallway. The nurse stopped in front of a door. “Sorry for the delay. When the EMTs first brought her in, she was speaking Japanese and we didn’t have anyone to translate. Then she became agitated, so we sedated her. We couldn’t examine her until she calmed down.”
“She’s all right?”
“She sustained a concussion, as well as contusions and cuts on her face. No broken bones. Nothing sprained or dislocated. There is some concern about her tongue. She bit it during impact, and it’s swollen.”
“Can I see her?”
“Of course. Be warned; we’re suggesting she doesn’t talk.”
Knox opened the door to the most beautiful sight. Shiori, conscious, although with a slightly vacant look in her eyes, her mouth set in a stubborn line. He barely noticed the marks on her face because his gaze caught on her white pants splattered with blood.
Jesus. What hadn’t the nurse told him about her injuries? Because from where he stood, she had to have major damage somewhere.
“Sir?”
He looked up to see Shiori trying to talk and the nurse shushing her. Shiori grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and wrote something. She turned it around and underlined it twice.
But she’d written it in Japanese.
The accident had scrambled her brain.
Knox took a step closer to her. “I don’t read Japanese. English, please.”
She spun the pad around, frowned, and wrote something else and turned it.
IT’S RED PAINT. THE CANS I BOUGHT AT THE ART STORE EXPLODED UPON IMPACT.
“Thank god.” Then Knox was by her side, cupping her precious, precious face in his hands, pressing soft kisses everywhere he could reach. On her forehead, her hairline, the corners of her eyes, her cheeks, the tip of her nose and chin, along every inch of her jaw. And then finally, with infinite tenderness, he kissed her mouth. When she parted her lips to speak, he shook his head. “For the first time since I’ve known you, I can say keep your mouth shut and pass it off as a doctor’s order.”
Those beautiful golden eyes filled with tears.
“Nushi,” he whispered, “don’t. I died a thousand deaths today, not knowing if you were all right.”
She reached up, her hands mirroring his as she held his face.
They stayed like that for several long moments.
Then Knox remembered the nurse. When he turned around, he realized she’d snuck out. He looked at Shiori again. “I need to find out what they’re doing with you. I’ll be right back.”
Luckily, the nurse hadn’t gone far.