ROAR (17 page)

“I’m not grieving, though.”

Wasn’t he? Based on what she’d studied about the process people went through after a loss like this—and for all intents and purposes, he’d lost his wife during that accident—she’d say he had moments where he was in the acceptance phase but then sometimes backtracked to denial. Even within this one conversation that had been evident. But it probably was easier for someone to grieve when there was a body in a casket or ashes in an urn. Instead, Kristoffer had been left in a state of limbo.

Perhaps someday he’d be emotionally ready to let Tori go, but Pamela had read about cases where someone remained in a state like his wife’s for decades. The loneliness and finality of saying goodbye in his heart had to be terrifying, too. Accepting that you must leave behind someone you loved whose body was so accessible in the physical world was different from having nothing but memories and the person’s essence to hold on to.

As long as her heart continued beating, he’d continue to watch over and protect Tori physically. While he’d admitted that he didn’t expect her to come back and believed that her soul had moved on, he hadn’t accepted her being gone yet. Each person had to come to terms with such loss in his or her own way.

But her concern was more with the living. Clearly, she and Kristoffer could become friends socially. She’d never met anyone with whom she had such an instant rapport and could talk with about literally everything from life to death. He’d been isolated a long time, but seemed to be reaching out to her to pull him back among the living.

“What about you, Pamela? Ever married?”

His question brought an instantaneous response. “No!” She grinned at the vehemence she heard in the word. With the tables turned, she sat back in her chair, hoping to put an end to the conversation.

He waited for her with a raised eyebrow, and she shook her head reluctantly. “I’m not the marrying kind. It’s a monumental commitment, as you’ve shown tonight. I might be interested in companionship, kink, even cohabitation,” she said with a smile. “But I don’t know if I could ever trust anyone enough to take that walk down the aisle. Most marriages fail.” Look at her parents’—not to mention the marriages of both Kristoffer’s and Gunnar’s parents.

“Will that be enough in the long run?”

Pamela played with the stem of her water glass and didn’t make eye contact as she thought about her response. She sighed. “I’m not sure. I seem to have a habit of painting myself into a corner with absolutes.”

“How so?”

She tried to formulate the words to explain something she was only just beginning to understand about herself. “All or nothing doesn’t work, especially in relationships, so I need to try to be less rigid in my expectations.” She smiled at him. “I hope when I find the Dom I want to be with, we’ll be able to talk as freely as you and I do, Kristoffer.” When he looked a little uncomfortable, she quickly put them back on safer footing. “I have a tendency to set safe boundaries to protect myself from getting hurt, but then I have regrets when my situation changes and I realize I’ve hemmed myself in.”

“That’s what renegotiation is for.”

“Sometimes it’s not possible to do that, especially in the heat of the moment.”

“Ah. No, that’s not a good time for any type of negotiation.” He smiled. At least this conversation wasn’t as deep as their earlier one. “Minds do tend to be slightly illogical then. Often, we find that achieving what we think we want doesn’t please us after all. Hence even more regrets.”

She smiled back, wondering if he was also a Trekkie. His advice reminded her of something Mr. Spock might say. “I tend to wind up with regrets either way.”

“I think if you work on your ability to stay in the moment and focus on the now rather than what has been or might be, you may find yourself experiencing those feelings less frequently. And I don’t mean merely during a power-exchange scene.”

“I’m not sure I can focus every minute of every day. Or sometimes even one minute of any day.” She grinned, but surely, he saw the truth in her admission.

“You just need someone to help train your mind.”

Kristoffer was no slacker when it came to discipline and focus. They’d be working together on this project a while. Okay, here she was already trying to fill in some of her free time with something else to be added to her plate. No, she wouldn’t ask him to help her work on this problem.

“If you’d like, I can devise some exercises for you that will help train your mind to stay in the present.”

That he’d offered without her asking surprised her. Her mind flashed to them together in a dungeon.
Whoa, girl!
He wasn’t proposing
those
kinds of activities. Actually, she wasn’t sure what he was proposing. This represented a major shift for the two of them. If she chose unwisely, would it affect their budding friendship?

“For instance, where did your mind go just now?”

Busted
. Man, he was good! She glanced up when the server refilled their water glasses and set down the bill, happy for the brief reprieve.

She reached for the check, but not quickly enough. The man seated across from her wasn’t so easily distracted on another matter, either, because as soon as they were alone again, he demanded, “Answer my question.” He didn’t have to repeat said question. His Dom-like tone made her stomach flip-flop.

She met his gaze. “I was simply wondering what kinds of exercises you had in mind. I’m intrigued, if you think you can help.” Her face flamed, probably telling him she’d been thinking more than that.

To be honest, she didn’t know what she wanted anymore and had no clue what had changed to make her so uncertain. Was it something she’d discovered at The Denver Academy? Or her talks with Kristoffer? Maybe even her illness, which had shaken her up more than she’d like to admit. All three had made her see things in a different light. Normally, she had tunnel vision, certain of what she wanted with a drive and determination to make it happen. Now she seemed so…confused.

The more she got to know Kristoffer, though, the more she wanted to know. She’d never had a friend she could be so honest and straightforward with. “Tonight’s been really nice, Kristoffer. I hope we can—”

He reached into his pocket, and she heard the staccato buzzing of his phone as he lifted it out. “Excuse me. I need to take this. It’s the nurses’ station at Tori’s facility.”

“Go ahead!” She motioned him to answer it.

He answered, and a somber expression came over his face.

“I’m on my way.” When he returned the phone to his pocket and glanced across the table at her, it was almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. “Tori’s in the hospital. Pneumonia.”

“Oh, no!”

He waved the server over to settle the check, pulling his credit card from his wallet. “Her breathing was really labored earlier today. I was afraid this might happen again.”

Pamela reached for her shawl and purse. “Let me catch a cab home. You go be with her.”

“No, I’ll take you home, but I’d like to check in at the hospital first. It isn’t on the way to your place; so if you don’t mind a delay of a couple of hours, I can take you home soon after. But if I can’t break away, then we can revert to calling a cab as a back-up plan.”

“I don’t want to intrude. Really, a cab is fine.”

He stared at her a moment, a pained expression and something akin to a plea for help piercing her to the core. “I’d rather not go alone, Pamela. One of these days, it’s going to be…” He stopped and glanced down. “Never mind. I can’t ask that of you.”

She squeezed the fisted hand at his side. “Let’s go. She needs you.”

Clearly, Kristoffer needed Pamela, too. Her spirits actually lifted knowing that she could be of some comfort to him. She stood and waited for him to sign the receipt before they exited the restaurant, his hand guiding her by the elbow.

At the hospital, he was informed she’d been taken into ICU. He picked up the pace a little more as they headed to the elevator, and she nearly ran to keep up with him. Outside ICU, he announced his presence through the speaker, and a buzzer unlocked the door so he could go back to see her. He turned toward Pamela and grabbed the door before it closed between them. “I’ll be back shortly.”

She nodded. “I’ll go find us some coffee. Won’t be what you’re used to, but will probably help keep you awake.”

“Thanks, Pamela. For being here and…well…for everything.” The gratitude in his voice warmed her heart.

“G
o!” Pamela gently nudged him through the door to ICU. His anxiety to find out about Tori’s condition sent him in a beeline to the nurses’ station. A woman in dark blue scrubs peeked over the top of her computer screen. “May I help you?”

“My wife, Victoria Larson, was brought in tonight. I was wondering what her condition is.”

“I can’t provide that information without—”

“I have the Health Care Power of Attorney and my driver’s license here.” Right now, he needed to prove relationship and identification as next of kin in order to obtain medical information. The long-term care facility probably had given them a copy already, but he carried it with him at all times, too, just in case. He pulled the worn document from his wallet and unfolded it. “I’m her court-appointed healthcare agent. She’s unable to make any decisions for herself, as you know.”

She glanced at the ID and nodded, not giving the paper more than a passing glance, so she must have seen a copy in Tori’s file already. He was happy to know the system worked, for whenever the decision had to be made as to whether to resuscitate or use extreme measures when he wasn’t able to get here in time.

“Mrs. Larson was admitted about an hour ago in respiratory distress. The early X-rays show fluid in both lobes of her left lung. We have her on strong IV antibiotic hoping to control the infection and keep it from spreading to the other lung.”

“I heard a rattle today in her breathing when I visited her.” Thank God the staff had stayed on top of the situation.

“Let me show you to her room.” He waited for her to leave the desk and followed her past several curtained doors and windows. “Here you go. Call if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” He entered and found her receiving oxygen via a nasal cannula. He’d held firm that she wasn’t to be ventilated or intubated, but if the antibiotics didn’t work, she could be in for some uncomfortable days ahead. If she felt anything.

He’d had her on a ventilator for past encounters with pneumonia, but the suctioning of the tube was more painful for him than her. Those were some of the most difficult times to stay and hold her hand. The contortions of her body as she fought the invasion were sheer torture for him.

At the moment, her eyes were closed, and she seemed peaceful so he tried to remain silent to let her rest. She might become agitated if she awoke and didn’t know where she was.

Wait. She
never
knows where she is anymore
. Not since the moment of impact on I-70 four years ago. Still, her body needed rest, whether she was aware of what was happening or not. Resisting the urge to hold her hand, he sat in the chair beside her.

Her eyes opened. Had she heard him? Could she hear the squeak of the vinyl chair? He stood again and leaned over her. No recognition. No alarm. Just a blank stare.

Nothing new.

“Everything’s going to be okay, sweetheart.” He stroked her hair away from her face and tried to maintain eye contact. While her eyelids opened and shut, her gaze remained unfocused. “You’re in the hospital. Just a little precaution to make sure your infection doesn’t worsen. You’ll be back home in no time.”

Home? Well, home for her.

She began coughing, and he held his own breath until she calmed again. He wished there was something he could do to help her, but knew how long it could take her body to fight off the infection. This wasn’t the first time she’d suffered from pneumonia; it most likely wouldn’t be the last. Eventually, according to the medical experts, pneumonia or some other bacterial or viral infection would take her from him forever.

Was he ready to say his final goodbye if this was the one?

No.

Selfish bastard.

Guessing she wasn’t going to rest while he was here, he decided to leave her alone for a while. Nothing more he could do, and he needed to take Pamela home now that he knew Tori was in good hands. He’d seen her much worse than this. No doubt she’d pull through again. Tori was a fighter. Well, her body was, anyway. Did she possess some latent memories of what she’d been like before her brain injury?

Doubtful.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” He kissed her forehead, and by the time he stood and looked down at her again, her eyes were closed once more.

That’s it, sweetheart. Rest now.

Making his way back to the nurses’ station, he left his cell phone number with a different nurse and asked to be notified if there was any change for the worse in her condition. “I need to run a friend home, but should be back in a couple of hours.” He’d stop by his condo and pick up some things and make sure Noma was set to fend for herself a few days if need be. Looked like the hospital would be his home for a while.

He returned there now and found Pamela thumbing through a magazine. Her face showed her concern for him when she met his gaze. So many times, he was alone during spells like this except for occasional visits from Gunnar.

Bloody hell, he hadn’t notified Gunnar yet. Not that he needed him to pull him away from preparing for his next mission. Besides, he had Pamela to talk with at the moment.

She stood and picked up a pressed-paper coffee cup to extend to him. “I was right. The coffee is swill, but it’s pretty potent swill.”

Accepting the offering, he appreciated that she didn’t ask questions right off, but having someone taking care of his needs felt good.

“I’m glad you’re here, Pamela. She’s sleeping now, so this might be a good time for me to run you home.”

“Is she stable?”

“More or less. It will take days, even weeks, before she’s out of the woods. They may have to try different antibiotic regimens to knock it out.”