Diving Into Him (15 page)

“Take us to the closest hospital,” Koty told the driver.

Glancing at him, she scooted closer. Without saying a word, he put an arm around her. She leaned against him and closed her eyes.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She flinched against the sensation. She lifted a hand to dig for it, but Koty reached it first. He held it up so that she could read the display. It was David, the owner of the studio.

“Want me to take it?”

She nodded. Even if she could speak, she barely had the energy to deal with David.

Pressing the phone to his ear, Koty hugged her closer. “Koty Jackson,” he answered. Ordinarily, she would have rolled her eyes at the formal way that he said his name. She should have realized long ago that she could trust him to handle the business end of the band. She wondered why she had insisted on doing everything herself for so long.

Closing her eyes, she let the vibration of his voice passing through his body into hers lull her into relaxation. The pain continued to clamp her insides, but ebbed slightly when the lines of their bodies met. A smile tugged at her lips, the warmth of security pulling her under. Underneath her eyelids, black sleep called to her. She let it blanket her. For a moment, she wished that she had just curled up with Koty on the couch, forgoing the emergency room. He would have never allowed it, though, and she was too weak to argue, anyway.

A growl of frustration jerked her back into awareness. She lifted her head. Koty’s eyebrows hunched together, his lips tight. She blinked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s closing Malden Street Studios.” Koty’s fingers tightened around her phone. “We can’t record there anymore.”

Her lips parted. Panic buzzed through her brain. She tried to speak, to ask why. No words came.

The taxi pulled in front of the emergency room. With the engine idling, the driver twisted in his seat, eyes expectant.

Koty fished out his wallet and handed the driver his credit card.

Guilt roiled through Jett. Once again, she was unable to take care of herself. Gritting her teeth, she pushed open her door.

“Whoa.” Koty grabbed her shoulder.

She turned to face him.

“I’ve got you.” He opened his door and jumped out.

Fresh pain ripped through her, and she slumped back. She was going to have to let him carry her, again. If there was any way she could avoid it, she decided, she would—even if it meant going in a wheelchair.

He jogged around to her side. She took his arm, and he pulled her to her feet. Leaning against him, she limped into the hospital.

The nurse at the front desk waved them closer. Jett stepped up to the counter, breathless.

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” The nurse’s fingers poised above her keyboard.

Pressing a hand to her abdomen, Jett grimaced. A moan escaped her lips. Tears stung her eyes. She leaned against the counter.

“Come right on back,” the nurse said, waving a hand toward a door.

“I’ll be out here,” Koty said, taking a step back.

“No,” Jett rasped. She took a step toward the triage, and the floor reeled up at her.

Koty caught her elbow.

“Do you want a wheelchair?” the nurse asked, standing.

“I’ve got her,” Koty said.

Jett allowed him to steer her into the triage room. She sat down at a table, where another nurse fastened a blood pressure cuff to her arm and clamped a pulse oximeter onto the pad of her finger.

“Your blood pressure is very high,” the nurse said, shaking her curls. “What’s going on?”

“Pain.” She gasped, pressing a hand to her abdomen. “Right here.” Another cramp rolled through her, snatching her breath from her lungs. The nurse raised an eyebrow, typing everything into a laptop.

“Sounds like your appendix.” The nurse twisted her lips in sympathy. “I had mine out when I first transferred here.” She patted Jett’s arm. “We’re gonna take you right back.”

A third nurse entered the room, pushing an empty wheelchair in front of her. She wheeled it right up to the chair that Jett occupied. “Can you stand, sweetie?”

Jett nodded. Gripping Koty’s arm, she stood from her seat and plopped into the wheelchair. Sweat trickled down her ribcage.

The nurse pushed her through a door that led away from the front desk and waiting room. Craning her neck, Jett glanced behind her to make sure that Koty followed them.

He gave her a thumbs up. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She gave him a smile, then turned around. Glancing down, she wrapped her arms around her belly again. The floor whizzed underneath her, making her even more dizzy. She gripped the padded arms and closed her eyes.

The nurse brought her to a room marked Immediate Care. She wheeled her to a bed all the way at the end. Leaning on the bed, Jett stood from the wheelchair. She climbed into the bed, sighing as she laid back.

“The doctor will be with you in just a moment. Good luck,” the nurse said as she pushed the wheelchair out of the room.

Koty dropped into a chair next to Jett’s bed.

A nurse with deep brown skin and wild curls trotted into the room. “My name’s Toni.” She handed Jett a white hospital gown flecked with blue flowers. “I’m gonna have you change into that. Do you think you can give me a urine sample?”

“She’s really dizzy,” Koty said.

Toni nodded. “I can have someone bring a commode.” She pulled a curtain shut and slipped out of the room. “I’ll be right back,” she called.

Koty stood. He cleared his throat. “I’ll step out.” He eased through the curtains, head ducked down.

Jett stared at the curtains as they shifted back into place. Then, she kicked off her boots. As she changed, every movement brought fresh pain. She gritted her teeth against it. If it was her appendix and not a case of really bad gas, she surmised, at least they would give her some good pain relievers. She would have to have surgery, though. Her lips flattened. She had never gone under the knife. She even still had all of her wisdom teeth.

Just as she finished tying the strings on the back of the gown, the nurse returned. She pulled the curtains open, revealing an orderly holding a commode. He looked young, barely out of high school. He blushed as Jett crossed her arms, and set the commode down quickly. He scampered out of the room.

Toni handed her a specimen cup. “Give me whatever you can. I’ll be back to set up your IV and take some blood.”

Peeing with Koty and other people on the other side of the curtain proved to be a difficult task. For several long minutes, she worried that she might not be able to with an audience. She finally managed to fill the cup and avoid peeing on her own hands. Setting it on the counter, she climbed back into bed.

As if on cue, Toni pulled back the curtains. “Good girl.” She nodded at the urine. She collected supplies from the drawers and lined them up on Jett’s stomach. Her fingers pressed the veins in Jett’s arm. “You’ve got lots of good ones.” She tied a blue rubber tourniquet around Jett’s bicep. “Little pinch.”

Compared to the pain in her stomach, the needle in her arm was nothing. Jett watched as her blood filled tiny vials. Toni finished taking her blood and then connected her to an IV line.

“I’m not gonna give you any fluids until the doctor sees you.” Toni gathered the specimens. “I’m gonna run these down to the lab.” She hurried out of the room.

Clearing his throat, Koty returned to the chair by the bed. “How are you feeling?” His blue eyes watched her, concern painting them.

Jett lifted a shoulder. “Like someone made me my very own voodoo doll.”

“Do you want me to call anyone?” He wiped the palms of his hands on his jeans.

She pressed her lips together. Until she knew anything, she didn’t want to worry Griff. Still, he should know about the studio. “Call Griff and just let him know about the studio.”

Nodding, Koty stood and ambled into the hall, his phone already in his hands.

A bearded doctor with ruddy cheeks brushed past Koty and marched over to Jett’s bed. He held out a hand. “I’m Dr. Santacroce. What’s going on?”

She shook his hand. “I think my appendix wants to come out.”

The doctor pumped sanitizer into his hands and rubbed them together. “Let’s take a look.” He peered into her throat and listened to her heart and lungs. “Let me know if anything is tender.” Pressing gently, he moved around her abdomen. Pain shot through her when he touched the soft flesh near her hip. “That’s a little lower than your appendix.” He straightened and pumped more sanitizer into his hands. “Let’s see what your blood tells us. In the meantime, I’m going to give you some dilaudid for the pain and some Zofran for the nausea.” He marched out of the room.

Koty ambled back in, still on the phone with Griff. He lifted an eyebrow at Jett, as if to ask her whether she was sure that she wanted to wait to tell him what was going on. She shook her head, eyes boring into Koty’s.

“Don’t,” she mouthed.

Toni wheeled a computer into the IC room. She maneuvered it past Koty and parked it next to the bed. Scanning Jett’s hospital bracelet, she nodded toward the IV. “I’m gonna get you feeling better right away.” She injected the medication into Jett’s IV. Before she even finished pushing the dilaudid, Jett felt it. The pain ebbed, decreasing to a dull roar. “Better?” Toni asked.

Jett nodded. She glanced at Koty. His lips moved, words flowing as he spoke to Griff. She could barely understand what he said. A smile danced on her lips. She relaxed back into the bed.

“Would you like a blanket?” Toni asked. “They’re warm.” She grinned.

Nodding again, Jett let her eyes flutter closed. It felt so good to just relax. Before the medication, she couldn’t remember what it was like to not be in pain. Her muscles loosened and she allowed herself to ride the high.

Koty tapped her arm.

Her eyes flew open a crack. She lifted her eyebrows.

“Griff said that he’ll take care of it. I didn’t tell him where we were, but he asked how you were feeling. I had to tell him you’re not doing any better.” He grimaced.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “Thank you.” Her own words oozed out of her lips like molasses.

Koty snorted. “Wow, that didn’t take long.”

She lifted a hand to swat at him.

Dr. Santacroce rushed into the room. “I had them rush your labs,” he said. He tucked his hands into his pockets, throwing a glance at Koty.

Jett sat up on her elbows. “And?”

The doctor’s eyes met hers. “Would you like some privacy?”

Eyebrows furrowing, Jett swallowed hard. “He stays.” For a moment, she wished that Koty would hold her hand. A million possibilities rushed through her mind. Even though she hadn’t had a drink in ages, it was possible that all of her drinking in the past had finally caught up to her. She tried to remember exactly where her liver and kidneys were. She hadn’t paid much attention during her high school biology class, and she had skipped college altogether to pursue music. She wished that she had paid more attention.

Dr. Santacroce shifted from one foot to another. “Are you sure?”

She frowned at his hesitation. Whatever he was about to tell her, it was bad. Her mind flashed to Phillip, to the day that he had called her to tell her that he had cancer. She bit down on her lip. She wondered if cancer showed up in the blood. Wishing she had some water, she cleared her throat. “Yes,” she replied slowly.

“Well,” Dr. Santacroce said slowly. His cheeks flushed even brighter. “You’re pregnant.”

Grey oozed into the spaces of her vision where color once occupied. Jett gripped the guardrail of the gurney to anchor herself in the world. She sucked in a deep breath, knuckles turning white. “What?” Her voice came out strong, if only a little hoarse from the pain. Good.

Dr. Santacroce shifted from one foot to the other. He kept his gaze on her eyes, but dropped his voice. “It’s likely that, based on your symptoms, the pregnancy is ectopic.”

Blinking at the doctor, she gave her head a shake. “English?”

“It means,” the doctor said, “that the embryo may be in your fallopian tube.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m very sorry.”

Shoving her hair out of her eyes, Jett glanced from the doctor to Koty. He slid out of his seat and eased toward the door. “Wait.” She nibbled on her lower lip. Forcing herself to meet his eyes, she took a deep breath. “Please stay.”

“I don’t know,” he said. He took another step toward the curtain—and the exit. “You probably want some privacy or something.” He jerked a thumb toward the rest of the emergency room.

She shook her head again. “Koty.” Her voice came out choked. “Please don’t leave me.” It was ironic that, just weeks before, she had been desperate to get away from him.

He hesitated, but remained where he stood.

Dragging her eyes away from him, she made herself look at the doctor. “So what happens now?” Sweat dampened her palms. She tried to imagine herself raising a baby. No doubt she would make a terrible mother. For the first time in years, she missed having a mother. She barely remembered the woman, never mind her final days, but she was positive that her mother would know what to do. If anyone could domesticate her, it would be her mother. Eyebrows curving into a frown, she stiffened as another thought washed over her. If her mother hadn’t gotten the Staph infection that killed her, her life might have been completely different. Instead of pursuing music, she may have married and had her own family. Her frown deepened.

Dr. Santacroce cleared his throat. “I’ll have them give you another strong dose of that pain medication.”

Her eyes shot to his face. “Wait, what?”

The doctor gave her a gentle smile. “It’s okay. I was saying that, if the pregnancy is ectopic, the fallopian tube could rupture.”

She narrowed her eyes. On some level, she thought she already knew exactly what it was that he was saying. She chewed on the skin next to her thumbnail.

“A surgeon will remove the embryo and assess any damage.” Dr. Santacroce clicked a pen that she hadn’t noticed he held. “First, though, we’ll need to do some imaging to confirm the position of the embryo.” He moved toward the curtain. “Someone will bring you down to ultrasound soon.” As he parted the material, he said, “I’m very sorry,” and disappeared.

Jett gaped after him. Ringing in her ears replaced the agony in her abdomen. She barely noticed as a nurse slipped in and injected another dose of dilaudid into her IV. She watched as the curtain swished back and forth in the air conditioning. Warmth shot through her arm. She kept her gaze on the curtain.

“Really, I can go if this is weird,” Koty said.

Slowly, she turned her head to look at him. She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to one side. His words ran together, as if he had done a line of cocaine. She raked her fingers through her hair. “Slow down,” she said. She stared at the stubble on his face.

Hands shoved in his pockets, Koty sighed. “Are you
sure
you don’t want me to call someone? Like, maybe Tyler?” Heat dusted his cheeks. He looked down.

She watched as his lips formed the words, her eyebrows knit together. Slapping the palm of her hand to her forehead, she sighed. “I’m not even with Tyler, Koty. Why would I want him to come?”

He cleared his throat. Running his hands through his hair, he lifted his eyes. “He should be here.”

His eyes were so bright and blue. She could write entire songs about those eyes. She wished that she had her guitar or at least a notepad with her. She couldn’t even record any lyrics or melody on her phone. She was pretty sure that she left it at the condo.

“Jett?” Koty leaned toward her. “Are you okay?”

Blinking, she lifted her chin. “Totally.” She patted her abdomen. “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

He shook his head. “You’re stoned.” Rubbing his temples, he made a sound that was half sigh and half howl. He knelt down in front of her. “Listen to me. Tyler should be here. Let me call him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Trying to pass me off, eh?” Giving his shoulder a shove, she leaned back into the stiff gurney. Warmth oozed over her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so good. Certainly it hadn’t been anytime recent. The sensation reminded her of a cross between a good, strong whiskey buzz and the tingling in her skin after smoking a joint with Griff. Her eyelids drooped closed.

“I’m just gonna go.” Koty’s voice yanked her eyes open. “I’m gonna call Griff and have him come sit with you, cool?”

Stretching a hand toward him she shook her head. “Please don’t do that.”

His shoulders stiffened. “It’s probably for the best, you know?”

“I need you,” she said, her voice small like a child’s. For once, she didn’t hate the ache in her heart.

Lips flat, the corner of his mouth twitched.

Her thoughts sludged around. As she opened her mouth to ask him why he was so hell bent on checking out on her, a thin young man with a wispy mustache whirled into the room.

“I’m Miguel,” he said. His foot released the brakes on her gurney. “I’m gonna take you down to ultrasound.” He pushed her toward the curtains.

“Wait.” She lifted a hand toward Koty. Her eyes met his. “You gonna be here when I get back?” Emotion flickered across his face. She could almost see him fighting with himself. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Will you?” She gave him her best glare. Maybe her suddenly soft edge was freaking him out.

His shoulders dropped. Letting out a breath, he tipped his head back. “Okay.”

She wondered when he had developed such a stubborn side. Aside from the days when he chased her around, begging her to let him play guitar in Perpetual Smile, he had been perfectly willing to do whatever she told him. That kind of attitude made for a boring boyfriend, but a great band mate.

The gurney lurched away from him. She twisted around, eyes locking on his. “Promise?” The thought of her little room being empty when she got back was almost too much to bear. If Koty had Griff replace him, it would almost be just as bad. She knew that she had been less than affectionate toward him, but she liked to think that she could always depend on him. Maybe, she surmised, she had been wrong.

Pain flickered in his eyes as Koty nodded. “Sure.”

The orderly wheeled her away.

The ceiling whizzed past her as the young man rushed her through the hospital. He smiled down at her. “Not doing so good today, huh?” His brown eyes reminded her of a puppy she once had.

She turned her head to watch the walls flying past her. “Do you hang out in the ultrasound area while I’m in there?”

“No.” The orderly sounded regretful. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I wanna make sure that fucker doesn’t run out on me.” She glanced up at the orderly. His eyes bulged out of his head at her. “Not that I don’t know where to find him.” She winked at him.

She watched as the scenery around her changed from bright, cheerful hospital to the less seen underbelly. Grey walls replaced the cheery blue painted brick. Frowning, she tilted her head back to look at the orderly again. “What is this, the torture dungeon?”

He grinned. “Something like that.” He pushed her into a hall. Slowing, he steered her toward a wall bare of posters instructing proper hand washing. He parked her parallel to the wall. “This is where we part ways.”

Tipping an imaginary hat to her, he turned and headed back the way they came. “Good luck,” he called over his shoulder.

From her parking spot, she could see just inside the two ultrasound rooms. They sat across from each other. She tried to guess which one she would be in. No other patients seemed to occupy the area.

A blonde young woman drifted out of the room on Jett’s right, moving as lithely as a dancer. She smiled. “Ready for me?”

Jett shrugged. “Who the hell is ever ready for these things?” She plastered a copy of the technician’s smile on her own lips.

The technician’s mouth drooped. She wheeled Jett into the ultrasound room without comment. No longer wasting time with conversation, she began the ultrasound, only minimally explaining what she was doing.

Jett rolled her eyes. It didn’t matter. She ignored the other woman as the technician explained the procedure, until she felt cold gel between her legs. As the technician probed her insides, she grew aware of the throbbing pain in her abdomen once more. Even with the pain medication, she could feel every movement of the wand. Gritting her teeth, she tried to focus her mind on something else. Lyrics from old Perpetual Songs that she wrote with Phillip Hilton slipped through her fingers. The expression in Koty’s eyes the first time they kissed rinsed from her mind. Cringing, she curled her fingers into fists in an effort to will the pain away. She wished that her nurse had given her a stronger second dose of dilaudid.

When it was over, her eyelids drooped closed. She barely noticed when another orderly came to wheel her back up to the IC room.