Unbelievable (41 page)

Reopen the
. . . My eyes jumped to the glass surrounds of his room. The curtains were drawn around him for the first time. “Why are the curtains closed if it’s no big deal?”

“I did that. Since Cole’s a doctor here and people like to think of their doctor as invincible, I didn’t want this to hurt Cole’s practice,” she explained.

“Honest?”

“Yes. Come.” She walked me to Cole’s room. “If you promise to stay for only a minute, you can go in.”

“Thank you.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I crept quietly to the bedside. Cole didn’t budge. His eyes were more swollen than yesterday, as were his cheeks. I took his hand in mine and gently squeezed it, before bringing it to my lips.

Allegra squeezed my shoulder, signaling that I needed to leave. I nodded and followed her out.

“Thank you,” I said weakly, before sprinting to the stairwell. I darted down two flights before sinking onto the deserted steps, sobbing uncontrollably. Out of nowhere an arm wrapped itself around my shoulders. I jerked my head up, stunned to see Booker. His pale, drained face reflected how I felt.

“I spoke to the surgeon a few moments before you arrived,” he explained. “I waited, figuring you’d take the news hard and would need a shoulder.”

“Comfort for me, coming from you?” I said, taking the handkerchief he offered me. “Is this a ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ moment?
”

He shrugged. “I was thinking more an
‘any port in a storm’
moment. Whatever you want to call it, here it is.”

I fell back on his shoulder, accepting the temporary truce he offered. It took a while, but I managed to rein myself in.
I stood, fighting the temptation to hand him his soggy hankie back, but decided to play nice. I tucked it in my purse. “I’ll wash this and return it.”

He nodded. “Cole’s a resilient guy. He’ll get through this.” Instead of sounding reassuring, he came across as unsure, scared even.

“Yes, he is,” I replied. “You should know, when my father calls again, I’ve decided to tell him I’m out, and that I won’t help him. Cole doesn’t need—”

“No! If you cut him off, we lose our only chance at catching him
. Or is that your plan, Delilah?” His eyes turned cold. The compassion they held only seconds ago disappeared. Hate and distrust took its place. “You want to give him the heads up so he’ll know we’re on to him?”

“I’m tired of my lack of privacy, Gatto. I can’t even have a nervous breakdown in a damp stairwell without you knowing.” I took the soiled hankie out of my purse. “If this mission of yours to catch my father hinders Cole’s recovery in anyway, I’m coming after you.” I glared into his eyes. “That’s right, I just threatened you. Arrest me or get out of my way.” I tossed the hankie at him as I made my way down the stairs to the door. “Clean that yourself.”

For two days Cole fought not only brain swelling, but a fever. I visited faithfully, standing at his window in the ICU. The nurses kindly pulled the drapes apart for me whenever I came so I could see him, even though he slept most of the time.

Once Cole turned to the window and I waved, but he’d just blinked slowly and turned away. Maggie and Seth came to visit him often also. “How’s he doing today?” Maggie asked.

“About the same. They’re giving him something new,” I said, pointing to the yellow IV bag the nurse just hung.

“His face doesn’t look as swollen,” Seth pointed out, doing his best to keep everyone’s spirits up, but it didn’t help. I feared for Cole’s life.

Booker only came to see him at night, wanting to avoid another run-in with me, according to Maggie. I should’ve felt guilty, but I didn’t.

Daddy hadn’t called, which was a good thing because I planned on following through with my threat. Seth eventually talked me out of it, explaining how the MET had spent three years trying to catch him and felt this was their only hope. He also apologized for Booker. “This drug stuff makes him a little crazy is all.”

Yeah, whatever. I didn’t want to waste another minute talking about Booker.

I woke early on Wednesday and jogged over to Cole’s house, walking through the empty rooms in hopes of feeling his presence. Booker’s progress upstairs astounded me. He’d framed in four bedrooms along with the bathroom, and he’d hung all the sheetrock. Between his late night visits with Cole and his job, I had no idea how he’d gotten so much done unless he’d given up sleeping.

I jogged back to my apartment to shower, slipping on my pink capris as I dressed. They were Cole’s favorite. Maybe they’d bring us luck today.

I arrived at the ICU, passing a guy dressed in scrubs pushing a gurney, with what looked to be a dead body under a sheet. I stepped back out of the way as he rolled by.
Creepy
.

A nurse called out to him as he cleared the doorway. “Take him straight to the morgue, Randy. They’re waiting.”

“Will do.” Randy playfully saluted. “Like I’m going to take the guy dancing instead,” he said to me with a chuckle. He had a point.

I went directly to Cole’s room, stopping dead in front of the windows. The curtains were pulled back
, his bed empty.

I wheeled around.
The gurney.

“Lilah, good to see you.” Allegra sat behind the desk writing something down.

“Doc . . . Allegra—”

“Here’s Cole’s new room number.” She handed me a slip of paper. “You’ll be happy to know his fever broke late last night and the brain swelling has
resided as of this morning.”

I resisted the urge to grab the poor woman and give her a great big kiss. “Thank you.” I headed for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

I knocked on the door to room 723 and gently pushed it open. A huge smile claimed my face. Cole sat doodling in his notepad next to the window. He stood slowly and we met in the middle, both of us holding each other tight.

“I’ve been so worried.” I stroked his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, and buried my face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him.

“Lilah, I need to sit. I’m still pretty weak.”

I held his arm as he carefully backed up to his chair. The smile never left my face. “Do you know how long you’ll be here?” I asked, setting a chair next to him and sitting.

“Not sure. Three, maybe four days.” He took my hand and held it tight.

“You look really good,” I lied. The swelling around his eyes had decreased, but the right side of his face still carried bruises and puffiness.

“I don’t look bad for a guy who’s just had brain surgery, you mean,” he chuckled.

“Maggie and I finished painting the rooms in your house. It looks amazing. And Booker’s done a ton of work upstairs. I doubt the guy’s slept.”

Cole frowned at the floor. “That’s not good.”

I turned his downward face to me. “No negative thoughts. Trust me, Booker’s just fine. He had no trouble harassing me the other day,” I pointed out. “Maybe later . . . after you’ve had a nap,” I said as he yawned, “we can go online and do some furniture shopping. I want your home to be all ready for you when you get out. But only if you’re up to it.”

“I’d like that. My house will finally be a home.”

I helped him into bed and covered him to his chin with the sheet,
and then sat in the chair next to him and watched while he slept, never letting go of his hand.

“Hi, Cole.” Maggie set a vase of flowers on the deep window sill next to Cole’s bed. “Please don’t scare us like that again.”

Seth stepped
over to Cole and cautiously hugged him. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” he said.

“Thanks. Sorry to scare everyone. I’m just glad I don’t have to take any more pain pills. Those things are wicked. It took all my energy to focus on those three drawings this morning.” He pointed to the pad on his bedside table.

“You drew three things before I got here today?” I said, reaching for the pad.

“You can’t look at that, Lilah.” Cole slapped his hand down on the pad,
and then immediately handed it to Seth. “I finished the
thing
we talked about before my surgery. Since I’ll be here for a few days will you take care of this for me?” Cole asked, all secretive.

“You bet.” Seth tucked the pad under his arm. “I’d better get going. My last final is in an hour.” He kissed Maggie. “I’ll take care of this after class,” he promised Cole.

“Rather cryptic,” I said, sitting on the side of the bed.

Before he could respond, Booker flew into the room. He walked up to Cole and hugged him tight. His face was drawn, and the dark circles I noticed under his eyes the other day were now purple.

“You look awful,” Cole chastised.

“Hey, that’s my line,” he chuckled. “You’ll do anything to keep from using power tools, won’t you?”

“Lilah said you’ve done quite a bit upstairs. Not sleeping again?” Cole pressed.

“I will tonight,” he beamed.

“Thanks, Book.”

Booker shrugged. “So, Magpie, how you holding up?”

“Better than you. I’ve seen healthier looking hairballs.” She glared at him.

“Thank you. You look lovely also.”

Booker turned to me. “Hello, Delilah,” he said with a slight grin. For a second I’d forgotten about our fake truce. Remembering, I smiled back.

“It’s Lilah,” Cole said.

“Whatever,” Booker said under his breath.

Maggie grabbed my arm. “I’m taking Lilah for some lunch downstairs. Booker, can you stay for a bit?” She didn’t wait for an answer.

“I’ll come back afterward and we can look at furniture online,” I said to Cole as Mags dragged me away.

“Are you all right?” I asked Maggie as we headed the elevators.

“Sorry, I didn’t want Booker treating you poorly in front of Cole. He doesn’t need that right now.”

“Funny thing. Booker approached me the other day about declaring a truce. He’s afraid our animosity might impede Cole’s recovery,” I explained, living out the gritty details.

“Really?” We stepped into the elevator and Maggie pressed the lobby button. “Sounds like he needs to try a little harder,” she said, disappointment in her voice.

“I couldn’t agree more.” I leaned my head back against the elevator wall as the doors closed.
But it ain’t gonna happen
.

Chapter 34

Cole

“Okay, we have the living room and dining room furniture picked out. Now for the bedroom,” I said. Lilah postponed our online furniture shopping yesterday because I kept nodding off. I knew
the Brachytherapy
and the stupid pain pills were the cause, so today I insisted on only ibuprofen. It didn’t exactly kill the pain, but having my mind back was a good tradeoff.

“How about this one?” Lilah asked. The set consisted of a boxy headboard and screamed
‘man-bed.’ I shook my head.

She showed me four more, each one more manly than the next.

“Cole, what exactly are you looking for? Wood, wrought iron? A sleeping bag?” she teased. “Maybe if you could explain a little more about what you’d like, I could narrow it down some.”

“I told you before, I want big. I don’t want my feet to fall off the end, or my head,” I said.

“All these come in California king, so length won’t be an issue,” she assured him.

“Let me look around.” I scanned several pages from the online store before giving up and Googling bedroom suites. Her pretty jaw dropped open as I pointed to the perfect bed: a
massive four poster bed with both wooden and wrought iron posts on the four corners. Iron vines twisted up the post, and a sweeping, arched, hand carved headboard completed the bed.

“This one, really?” She pointed to the delicate carved wood and metal flowers. “The rich mahogany wood is beautiful, but I’m surprised you like this.”

“It’s like none of the others we’ve seen. It’s unique, different, don’t you think?” I asked with trepidation.

“Yes. I love it. This will be perfect for that room. It’s just the right size. It’s just not what I pictured for you.”

“I’d like the matching armoire and the dresser with the arched mirror, too.” I pointed out. “But I don’t like the washed out blue comforter on it. I want more color.”