Roxie lifted her head and saw that he had tears in his eyes too. She wiped her eyes and sniffled. “Johnny and Al? How are they?”
He shook his head and a tear dropped down his cheek. She turned her head into his chest and cried harder.
She began coughing and couldn’t stop. Beckham pushed the button and asked a nurse to come in right away. She panicked when she saw how much she was scaring Leo. He wailed as Chloe carried him out of the room.
Her lungs felt like they were closing in on her and she had to fight with everything to not panic. She coughed harder. Beckham pushed the nurse button again frantically when her blood sprayed across the white blanket. An alarm went off on the monitor when her O2 levels dipped too low.
The nurses and a doctor rushed in.
“We’re going to intubate,” she heard someone say, “And we’ll give her a cobinamide antidote to reverse her toxicity levels. You should leave the room for this. We’ll let one or two of you back in when she’s stabilized.”
And that’s the last thing she heard for a while.
She woke up several times in the night. It was scary to have a ventilator breathing for her. She hated it.
Her parents and Beckham were there whenever she opened her eyes. In a different part of the room each time. Sometimes Anthony sat beside her and held her hand. It could have been hours or days, she didn’t know the difference.
Eventually she woke up and felt more coherent. She stayed awake for a while and her mom said her levels seemed to be steadily improving. The doctor came in later and took her off of the ventilator and removed the tube.
Her throat felt like a million knives were piercing her at once. She cringed with every swallow. Beckham held one hand and her mom held her arm above the bandage. Her dad held onto a foot. She tried to smile even though she wanted to cry.
“Leo?” she whispered.
“He’s with Chloe. They’re in a hotel. Chloe will bring him as soon as you’re ready.”
Roxie nodded. She wanted to see him right away.
“How are you feeling?” Beckham asked.
She nodded again and held her throat.
“Is it killing?” he asked.
She nodded. He looked so sad, she couldn’t stand it.
“Your throat will be sore for a few days.” A nurse spoke from the end of the bed.
“No kidding,” Beckham snapped. “Sorry! I’m sorry,” he said to the nurse before she stepped back nervously. “We’re just all on edge here, I apologize.”
The nurse nodded before escaping the room.
“You need to go get some rest, Beckham. You too, Mom and Dad,” she whispered.
“They’ve given us a room on the floor below that we haven’t taken advantage of—perks of knowing a rock star.” Her dad winked and patted her foot. “We should probably go get showers there while you’re having tests done. We’re smelling up the room,” her dad said. “Well, at least that one is.” He pointed to Beckham. “You know your mother doesn’t stink.”
Roxie giggled and then cringed. She wanted to yank her throat out for a while and put it back when it stopped tormenting her.
“Do that, please. I’ll feel better if I know you’re comfortable,” she said. “And take a nap. You all three have dark circles. Please. Go rest. I’m already sleepy again.” She looked up at Beckham, who was gazing at her as if she was the only woman he’d ever seen before.
His eyes filled as he stared at her. “I never want to come close to losing you again. Ever, Roxie.”
“I’m here,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He kissed her hand. “When you’re out of this hospital, you know I’m not letting you out of my sight, right?”
Roxie made a face. “This doesn’t give you permission to be any bossier than you already are.”
“You’ve always been the boss of me and you know it,” he whispered.
Her parents laughed. Her dad stood up and looked at her mom and Beckham. “I’ll just step out and check with the doctor on call to see when they’re taking her down for tests.” He looked at Roxie. “Maybe I can go grab something besides hospital food for you?”
She shook her head. “Everything sounds too hard to swallow.”
“Hospital soup it is, then.”
Her dad came in with the new nurse on shift a few minutes later.
“Sounds like,” he looked at the nurse’s name tag, “Claire here has the paperwork, so you’re going down to radiology with her.”
Her mom and dad patted her shoulder and Beckham put both hands on her cheeks.
“I’ll be back before you are,” he said.
She nodded and smiled up at him. Claire stood next to the bed and they both watched Beckham walk out of the room until the door shut behind him.
“You are one lucky woman,” she sighed. “He is so hot. Anyway, I’m not telling you anything you don’t know,” she took a breath, “but seriously, he’s always been on my list of free passes. My husband would die if he knew I actually met him because, you know, that list is supposed to be so hypothetical. You know, the list?” She looked at Roxie and her eyes got huge. She gulped. “That just came out. Not something I should be telling the girlfriend, right? Right. Okay. So. I have to get a wheelchair and we’ll be set.” She paused for a quick breath. “We didn’t have any on the floor just as I was coming to get you.” She backed out.
Roxie leaned her head back. “Thank you,” she whispered.
She’d dozed off when she heard a creaking wheelchair. The room was even darker than it had been before. Roxie groggily sat up but felt so limp she relied on help getting into the chair. Something was said as a cool cloth was placed over her eyes, but they sounded so far away. Her eyes still burned, so she held the cloth in place as they rolled down the hall. They got in an elevator and Roxie’s head jerked back as she dozed off.
Disoriented, she tried to hold up her head, but it felt like a bowling ball. Everything was blurry. The cloth was placed over her eyes again and held down.
“I don’t feel right,” she slurred.
A muffled voice responded, but she couldn’t hold onto consciousness long enough to hear it.
Ian had crawled into the bed at some point in the night. It smelled musty, but he didn’t care. He felt like he’d been out for days, but surely not. He’d be hungrier if it had been that long. He finally thought to look at his watch. 2:01 a.m.
He couldn’t stand to think of Sparrow worrying. She’d be frantic by now. She knew he’d made big plans for their anniversary, but he hadn’t given her any details. She didn’t know where he’d run the errands, but maybe the car had shown up somewhere and given them clues.
In one of the other rooms, someone was making a racket. He wondered if it was Coco or if she had help. Maybe she was angry or didn’t want him to sleep. He sat up in the bed and swallowed away the nausea. Not many musicians could brag about concussions. From a stalker. It probably didn’t count since she wasn’t even stalking him. He’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wanted Beckham, which meant Ian’s chances were slim.
He was about to get up and look around when the noise stopped. He heard steps coming toward his room and waited. Coco burst through the door and turned on the light. She looked manic.
“Tonight backfired,” she said, pacing near the bed. “Literally. I should have done it at least an hour later, but I was too wired to wait. The placement was perfect—close to the guards, so they couldn’t save the bitch. And the bomb worked just as I hoped, but it was so loud the owner came outside and hosed it down before the fire could even burn much of the cottage!”
She talked faster and faster, while his panic grew.
“Whose cottage, Coco?”
She looked at him and frowned, shaking her head back and forth. “I just have to get a new plan,” she said. “It’ll be okay. I’ll do better next time.”
“What did you do? Why don’t you sit down and tell me about it?” he asked.