Wild at Heart (2 page)

A
n hour later, Archer and I were ensconced in the over-padded black leather seats of his father’s company jet, heading west over the Atlantic. I stared out the window, unseeing, exhausted, overwhelmed.

What if Dare was dying right now? I pulled out my phone to check messages for the thousandth time. What if he was gone before I got there? Before I could see him one more time? Before I could tell him how much I loved him, how much I needed him to fight to stay alive, to fight for me, for us?

My mind was full of what-ifs and questions that no one could answer. Why hadn’t he told me his father was out? Or that he was going back to the States? I knew he was protecting me, but I was guilt-ridden over not knowing, angry that he’d failed to tell me. And now he was lying unconscious in a hospital and there was nothing I could do to help.

If he died, I was going to fucking kill him.

God. How could I be angry at him?

“You look like you could use one of these.” Archer held out a shot glass filled with something clear and dangerous.

I stared at it, my mouth salivating at the sight, my mind itching for the numbness it guaranteed.

I slid my shaking hands under my thighs and forced out a slow, but steady “No, thanks.”

His eyebrows disappeared beneath the hair falling across his forehead. “You okay?”

“Not even close.”

“What can I do?” he said.

“You’re doing it.” I forced a smile. “You’ve gone above and beyond. I don’t know why I was surprised you came to get me. That’s been your M.O. forever.”

“For you, always.”

“Archer…I…” What? What was I going to say to that? He’d flown across the ocean to pick me up in his father’s private jet. How could I hurt him again?

“I know, Reagan. It’s okay. I’m over it.” He shrugged. “I won’t say my ego didn’t take a beating, but you’ve always been my favorite. That hasn’t changed. I’d still do anything to help you.”

“And I, you.” Because I would. Archer and I had been through so much together, and he’d always come through for me. I would do the same for him in a heartbeat.

“I know. Now let’s go see your brooding artist.”

He reached over and squeezed my hand, and I held on tight to him. I’d never been so scared in my life as I was right then, so unsure of what I’d find when I got to the hospital. All I could do at that moment was cling to hope.

It was almost midnight when Archer dropped me off at the hospital. He’d tried to insist on coming up with me, but I’d sent him home. He’d done enough—much more than enough—and this was something I needed to do on my own.

I took the elevator up to the ICU, and quietly passed through the heavy double doors. The smell of sickness permeated the air, and the constant beep and whoosh of machines hooked to patients was all I could hear as I tread silently down the well-lit hall. A nurse looked up in surprise as I rounded the corner, searching for the room Dalia had said Dare was in.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” the nurse said with a curt headshake, “but visiting hours are over. You’re going to have to come back tomorrow.” Her voice was not unkind, but it was firm.

Her words mingled with the noises of machines as I spotted Dare’s room. And Dare. There was a wall of windows separating him from the hallway, and although the inside was dim, there was enough light filtering in from the hallway for me to see him lying in the bed, unmoving.

My vision blurred as I took a few steps toward him.

“Miss? You can’t be in here…” The nurse got up and headed around the counter to stop me, but I barely noticed.

All I could do was stare at Dare.

My heart pounded, and my breathing faltered. I blinked back tears as quickly as they came, but couldn’t stop them.

He wasn’t moving. His body was so still, almost as if he—

“Miss!” The nurse blocked my path, her large body eclipsing my view. She had dark brown skin, and warm eyes. Her stern expression filled with empathy as she said, “You can come back during regular visiting hours.”

“Is he…” My throat closed and I had to fight to get any sound through. “Is he…dying?”

The word sent a chill down my spine, shivering my already frozen body. My heart felt like it wasn’t working at all.

“I’m not allowed to give out patient information.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer. “But if he’s in this unit, he’s still hanging on.”

“Please,” I said, searching her face through a veil of tears. “I just need to see him for a moment. I flew in from Paris, came straight from the airport…
please
. I can’t…I need—”

“
Ree?
“

I looked over the nurse’s shoulder at a man standing in the doorway to Dare’s room.

“Are you Ree?” he asked. About sixty years old, he had red-rimmed green eyes, long, gray hair pulled back into a pony tail, and a scruffy goatee. He wore a wrinkled, black, button-down shirt over paint-splattered khaki pants. A sling cradled his left arm, and I could see a cast enveloping it.

I nodded at him, wary. He didn’t look like anything like Dare—not that I could imagine Dare’s father sitting by his bedside after having put him in the hospital in the first place, but you
never
knew with some people. My mother had been at my bedside seven years ago, when she’d been the reason I was there.

Although the guy couldn’t be Dare’s dad, there was something vaguely familiar about him.

The man tipped his head at the nurse. “She’s okay,” he said. “She can stay.” Then he held a hand out to me. “I’m a friend of the family—Rex Vogel. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have fangirled to be in the presence of
the
Rex Vogel, reclusive genius artist that practically NO ONE ever got to meet. Sure, he’d taken Dare under his wing, but that was an anomaly. While Rex’s reputation had grown in renown over the years, he’d personally stayed out of the limelight. I’d followed his work for years, but had never even gotten close to meeting him, regardless of how deep my father’s pockets had been.

And he was now gently grasping my hand, and pulling me into Dare’s room.

As soon as I stepped inside, I lost all thoughts of Rex.

There was only Dare.

He lay so, so still in the bed, bandages covering far too much of his body, bruises blooming over the rest. His right hand was heavily wrapped, and deep red scrapes ran across his handsome face. He looked like he’d lost a fight with a mountain lion. He was connected to so many tubes and machines, and for the first time since I’d known him he seemed completely vulnerable.

I was almost afraid to touch him, but the draw of his presence was too much for me to resist. I was at his side, reaching and hesitating all at once, broken over seeing him like this, but so thankful that he was alive.

“Go ahead,” Rex said, quietly. “Touch him. He may be able to feel you, hear your voice. They don’t know whether he can hear us, but they’ve been telling us to talk to him, play music, read out loud. Anything to help bring him back to us.” His eyes got redder, and he lay his hand on Dare’s shin and squeezed. “You’re coming back to us, Dare. You hear me? I won’t take no for an answer. Ree is here now. You’ve at least got to come back for her.” Then Rex nodded at me. “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes. Gonna go stretch my legs before I lay down in that chair in the corner. I’m on night duty.” He raised one eyebrow. “You staying?”

Nothing could drag me away now that I was finally here.

I nodded. “If that’s okay.” I looked around the room. There was only the one reclining chair. “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to.”

But Rex shook his head. “I’ll have them bring in another chair. In fact, I’ll go ask the nurse right now.” He walked toward the door, then turned to look at me one last time before he left. “I’m glad you’re here, Ree. He needs you. He needs us all.”

I watched Rex amble out to the nurses’ station, then I turned back to Dare.

God. He looked…
broken
.

Ever so gingerly, I ran my fingers down his left arm, careful to avoid the IV line taped there, then slid them into his open hand. It killed me that his fingers didn’t automatically wrap around mine.

He couldn’t hold my hand right now, but at least I could hold his.

I squeezed his fingers, then leaned down and kissed the one spot on his head that didn’t have any cuts or bruises.

“I’m here.” My words fell from my lips in a hoarse, broken whisper as my eyes overflowed again. “I don’t know if you can hear me…I wish you could give me some sort of sign.” I gently squeezed his hand again, hoping he’d squeeze back if only just a little, but his fingers stayed lax. Loose. Lifeless.

Shit. I couldn’t think that way.

“Listen,” I said, leaning closer, speaking louder. “I don’t know why you came back without telling me. Or why you thought you needed to do this on your own, but you’re not alone. Not anymore. You and me, we’re together in this and in everything. Okay? I know you’re used to taking care of everyone in your life, but this time…
I’ve got you, Dare
. You don’t have to worry about anything but getting better.” A sob rose in my throat. “Because you’ve got to come back. Please. I need you. And I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else in my whole life.”

Placing a hand on his chest, I felt his heart beat. His pulse had increased when I’d started talking—I’d seen the numbers go up on the monitor to the left of his bed. Did that mean he’d heard me? I could only hope.

“You are mine, Dare Wilde. I own you. Don’t you forget that,” I whispered. “You need to be okay because I’m not ready to let you go.”

The steady thumping of his heart felt reassuring, even though I knew nothing was sure at this point. But he had to make it through this. He
had
to. There wasn’t any other option…because I knew I could not survive losing him.

Not now.

Not ever.

three

O
ver the next week, the hospital became my life. I ate, breathed, and slept by Dare’s bedside. The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic and uncertainty that wafted through the building’s white corridors seeped into my pores. No matter how many showers I took, it clung to me like a second skin.

The
beep
,
beep
,
beep
of the heart monitor was a constant in my mind. Even when Dash pried me away long enough to take a shower and change my clothes at his hotel suite, or to just get a breath of fresh air, the sound of Dare’s heart echoed within me.

The morning after I’d arrived, I’d woken to Dare’s whole family surrounding me—Dalia, Dax, Dash, and his mom Celia. I sat bolt upright at the sight of them, my heart racing, my eyes seeking out Dare in a panic before my ears registered that his heart was still beating.

Thank god. I pressed a hand to my pounding chest.

“Whoa,” Dash said, putting a warm, reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Slow down, Ree. Everything’s fine.”

“
Ish
,” Dalia said. “Everything’s fine-ish.”

Dax flopped down in a straight-backed chair. “Nothing about this is fine-ish. Not even close.”

Celia smoothed Dax’s hair, her hazel eyes glued to Dare’s still form. “No, it’s not,” she said softly as her eyes started to redden. “But Dare’s strong. We’ve got to keep hoping…your dad couldn’t have—”

“Couldn’t have what, Mom?” Dax said, his voice filled with anger. “Killed Dare?” He shook his head in disgust. “Sure looks like he tried.”

“Dax!” Dalia shot her brother a stern look as she walked up to her mom, wrapping an arm around her thin shoulders and guiding her over to sit in the chair next to Dare’s bed.

“Well, it does!” Dax waved his hand at Dare. “Look at what that bastard did to him. I’m just calling it like it is.”

Dash gently smacked the back of Dax’s head, then gripped his shoulder. “Cool it, man. We all know what happened, and this is hard on
everyone
—especially your mom. No point making it any harder.”

Dax shook off Dash’s hand, mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out as he glared sullenly from his chair.

“You’re his Ree?” Celia was looking at me, her head tilted to one side, her long, dark waves tucked behind her ears. I nodded. “He’s told me so much about you. I’m glad you’re here.”