“Thank you, Detective.” Out of the corner of her eye Allie caught a flash of blue. She turned her head just in time to see a woman in hospital scrubs entering the family waiting room. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, not even bothering to wait for a reply before hurrying down the hall.
“Is he okay?” Allie blurted out the moment she yanked open the door.
The woman in scrubs was standing in front of Nick, who was seated in one of the molded plastic chairs. His foot was tapping at a frantic pace, making his entire leg shake, and his face seemed to have aged well beyond his twenty-two years.
“He’s still in surgery,” Nick said. His voice was so quiet and flat, Allie hardly recognized it.
“These are Mr. Chase’s personal effects,” the woman said, holding out a large manila envelope. “I’m sorry I don’t have any news for you. Hopefully someone will be out with an update soon.”
“Thank you.” Allie sat in one of the chairs on the opposite wall and reached into the envelope. Hudson’s smartphone and wallet were inside, but there was no sign of the burner. Surely he’d had it; how else would he have gotten her text and known she was with Julian? But where the hell was it? Max, she thought. Of course he would have taken care of any loose ends before the police arrived. Unlike the unregistered phone Hudson had used for their covert conversations, the phone Allie held in her hand was for business. The four inches of technology that was his constant link to an ever-expanding conglomerate. Allie felt confident the only entries would be work-related, but on the outside chance there was anything even slightly incriminating . . .
She powered on his cell phone. The fact that his pass code was her birthday made her smile, but when the home screen popped up, her smile faded and tears sprang to her eyes. Staring back at her from the device Hudson looked at all day while he ruled his empire was their wedding day selfie. She drank in every detail of the photo, from the way she snuggled so close to her new husband to the way his hand curled possessively around her shoulder. But it was the look in their eyes that jumped off the screen to pierce her heart. A look that said simply, “I am home.”
Curious if the shot of the two of them sharing a kiss after sampling wedding cake was also on the phone, Allie tapped the album icon. When she did, she found not only the photo she was looking for, but dozens of others. All candid shots, and all of her. Browsing the rolls of wrapping paper at the Christkindlmarket; sharing a laugh in front of the fire with Harper; reading a book, wrapped in a cashmere throw in Hudson’s library. Picture after picture taken during unguarded moments of happiness. The fact that Hudson had not only captured them, but kept them stored on his phone, was just another example of the romantic nature he so vehemently denied having. She smiled to herself. When he woke up, she was going to give him hell for this.
When he woke up . . .
If he woke up . . .
No. She shook her head to clear it. Thinking that way wouldn’t help anyone. She had to stay positive. If not for her, then for Nick. With the few exceptions when Harper had corralled him into a chair, Nick had been pacing the room nonstop. The panic and fear in his eyes the few times he’d glanced her way had caused the ache in Allie’s chest to tighten to an excruciating level. It was clear his emotions, and quite possibly his sobriety, were hanging in the balance. Seeing Allie break down would only test his tenuous hold. The last thing she wanted to do was make this any harder on him.
So instead of lingering on photos that conjured memories so happy they were sad, Allie turned her attention back to the manila envelope. She reached inside to retrieve his wallet, but when she did, her fingers encountered something else: his wedding ring. She held the platinum band up, and for the first time realized there was an inscription. She hadn’t noticed the words when she’d slipped the band on his finger. The barn had been lit in dim candlelight, and her gaze had been focused on the man she loved, not his ring. But in a hospital waiting room, under harsh fluorescent light, the words etched inside were impossible to miss.
Hers Forever 1/17/15
It was too much. Allie clutched the ring in her hand and held it to her chest. Hudson was her love, her life. She couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. Tears fell in heavy streams down her cheeks and her body shook with sobs.
“Mrs. Chase?” Allie looked up to find a woman in pale blue hospital scrubs standing just inside the door. Her delicate features were drawn with exhaustion. “I’m Doctor Katz. Why don’t we find some place private where we can talk?”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Hudson woke, and his first instinct was to sit up. Shit, not a good fucking idea. His side let out a scream that hit him with a shot of pain so intense, he had to draw in a shallow breath. Because anything deeper was going to feel like a nail gun between the ribs.
Gun . . . Julian . . . Allie . . .
What had that fucker done to her? He fought the urge to go full throttle out of . . . where the hell was he? The place had about as much warmth as a meat locker and looked like a cross between a flower shop and a funeral home. Christ, was he dead? No, the pain shooting through his whole body was a reminder that he was very much alive. His head and chest ached and his lids were heavy, but he was alive. So fucking alive.
He needed to get to his wife.
Instead of making another attempt to sit up, Hudson turned his head. The face of an angel rested on the hospital grade blanket, her blond hair fanned out, her lips slightly parted. His gaze shifted to a delicate hand encompassing his, and his fingers squeezed with what little strength he had.
“Allie . . .” he rasped. His throat felt raw.
She lifted her head and blinked. “Hudson . . .” As awareness seeped in, tears brimmed her eyes. “Oh, thank God.”
“Where am I?”
“Northwestern. You’re in the ICU.”
“How long have I been out of it?”
“A day.” She started to pull away, but his grip tightened.
“No. Stay.” His hoarse voice sounded louder than he’d have thought possible.
“Shh, it’s okay.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But I need to let them know you’re awake. They’ll want to check your vitals, and from the looks of it, you could use another dose of morphine. “
“No, don’t. I want to be lucid for this. Tell me what happened.”
“How much do you remember?” she asked.
“I remember seeing the two of you through the window.” The image of Julian with his hands all over his wife caused an ache in Hudson’s chest worse than anything he’d felt since he came to. “And I remember struggling for the gun. After that, it’s a blank.”
“The gun went off between you.” She paused for a beat, and Hudson knew she was fighting to control her emotions. It killed him to think about what she’d been through in the last twenty-four hours. If the situation had been reversed, he would have gone out of his mind.
“Did they arrest Julian?” Hudson winced as a sharp pain stabbed him, then receded.
“He’s dead.” The color drained from Allie’s face. “You were bleeding to death on the floor and he was making me leave you there. If I hadn’t stopped him . . .” Her voice trailed off, but then she cleared her throat. When she spoke again, it was with an unquestionable resolve. “I’d do it again if it meant saving your life.”