Connected (61 page)

They say she’s already on her way to the hospital in the ambulance. I want them to take me to see her now. No one knows what happened, just that someone heard screaming and called security. This car ride feels like the longest fifteen-mile drive of my life. My phone keeps ringing, but I can’t answer it. I just have to see her, my beautiful, perfect girl. I need to know she’s okay.

I slide open the photos I have of her. Some are serious, some are funny, some are quirky, and some are downright hot. All of them a reflection of her beautiful face, and the tears I’ve been holding back start to flow like the unease I feel about my inability to keep her safe.

Absorbed in my thoughts and the quiet of the car, I can barely even hear my own breathing. The heat is blasting and even though I’m not wearing a coat, I’m sweating. The security chief is talking to me, but I’m not listening until I realize he’s telling me we’re at the hospital. Rushing through the emergency room doors, I make my way through a very packed waiting room toward the small glass window at the reception desk. As I get closer I think I see Dahlia back behind it, but once I’m there, I realize it’s only wishful thinking.

Holding myself up against the counter, I feel slightly queasy. My nerves are getting the best of me. My heart is pounding a thousand beats a minute, my stomach is in knots, and the chill running through my body is making the shivering painful.

“
Can I help you, sir?”

Putting aside any preamble of a greeting, I blurt out what I need from her. “My fiancée was just brought in and I need to see her now!” I’m raising my voice at this nurse and getting looks from others waiting behind me, but I don’t give a shit. I’m desperate to find my girl.

Her standard reply throws me into a tailspin. “Sir, are you family? Only family members are allowed back,” she says, handing me a form to fill out that reads: Non-Family Member Patient Inquiry.

I’m trying to keep my patience but losing the battle as I take the clipboard from her and repeat, “I told you, we’re engaged.”

She looks up at me with an expression that says she’s heard this before. “Sir, like I said, access is for the patient’s family only. Please fill that out, and have a seat. We’ll inform you of her condition once we get her permission.”

“
She has no fucking family! I am her family!” I frantically yell through the window.

Taking a deep breath, I pull myself together. I complete the form and hand it back to her. I stand there trying to figure out what to do when I see the doors to the emergency room corridor open, and a patient is being wheeled out with her leg in a cast.

Looking at the nurse behind the desk engaged in talking to someone behind her as my clipboard lays idle in front of her, I know I have to do something. So without thinking of any consequences, I quickly walk through the open doors and enter the never-ending long hallway of drawn curtains. Once inside, I pause for a minute deciding the best way to go about finding her. I’m praying she’s actually back here and not in some operating room. Starting with the first curtain, I poke my head in trying not to disturb the person in there.

After I’ve done this a few too many times, I see a doctor walking down the wall. “Excuse me, doctor,” I say to the short brunette woman in a white lab coat, “Do you think you could help me? My wife is back here and I can’t remember what room she’s in. I had to go out to the waiting room to use my phone to call and check on our daughter.” I’m making this up as I go, and I’m actually wishing it were true, hoping it will be true someday. “And now I can’t remember what room she’s in.”

Smiling, she says, “Sure. What’s her name?”

“
Dahila London,” I tell her, and I really wish I was saying Dahlia Wilde.

She walks over to the desk and looks on a clipboard. She then directs me to curtained room number ten. It’s no more than ten feet away, but the walk feels like miles. Memories flood my mind with visions of her dancing in the rain. Her carefree take on life and the beauty she finds in everything is awe-inspiring. What’s ironic is she thinks everyone around her is amazing, but she’s the amazing one. The one I was supposed to take care of and failed miserably at.

My phone is ringing again and the nurse walking down the corridor shoots me a look, “Sir, your phone is supposed to be turned off when you’re back here.”

Reaching for it in my front pocket, I hit the vibrate button. “Sorry, Miss,” I say as I see seven missed calls in the last thirty minutes, all from Caleb.

I hold my breath as I reach to open the blue curtain. Fear and dread flow through my veins until I not only see but also hear the voice of the girl I’ve fallen so deeply in love with.

“
River, is that you?”

I yank open the curtain to see her sitting in the bed with her head propped back. There’s a bruise on her cheek, and her lip is swollen. She has a bandage wrapped around her wrist where she wears the bracelet from
him
. But thank God she’s sitting up and she’s talking to me.

Swallowing hard, I can’t suppress the tears as they instantly start flowing down my face. I jet over to her side and gently wrap by arms around her, careful of the wires connected to her body through the hospital gown.

She pulls me to her even tighter.

I whisper because I’m barely able to speak, “Are you okay?”

Crying, she nods her head, “Yes.”

I gently cup her beautiful face in my hands, and stare at her. I press my lips to hers, careful to not actually apply any pressure. As relief washes over me that she’s all right, I put my head in the crook of her neck and stay there, unable to move. She’s become so much a part of me in such a short period of time; I can’t imagine my life without her.

She holds on to me, and I not only feel the strong physical connection she needs from me right now but also the deep emotional connection that binds us together. Her crying continues as I attempt to soothe her. Each of her tears is a tug I feel in my own heart.

I want to ask her what happened. Who did this? Did he touch you? How did he touch you? I want to fucking kill this man, but right now what she needs from me most is just me. So I hold in my questions until later and just hold her tight thanking God she’s alive and okay.

Her cries turn into my cries as I kiss her on the forehead. “Everything’s okay now, baby. And I promise I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again.”

CONNECTED

We’ve taken this journey

Down this happy road

Discovering our love

And we know we will never be alone

We feel connected...connected forever.

River’s POV

3 days after the attack…

Wrapped in her concert t-shirt blanket, she’s wedged in between my legs as we lie outside on a lounge chair with the sunrise and the Hollywood sign as our canvas. Her head rests on my chest, our fingers laced together, and my arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, where they’ve been since the attack.

She was released from the hospital yesterday. Caleb and Xander drove up to Tahoe the day of the incident and stayed until it was time to leave. Caleb asked her more questions than the police, but the story was always the same. It was filled with very few details and a vague recollection of what the guy even said.

She didn’t see who attacked her. He grabbed her from behind and threw her down, shoving her face into the ground. The only thing he said to her was to give it up and she wouldn’t get hurt. Those words still send shivers down my spine. He pounded her head into the stony trail a few times as she tried to scream around his hand. When someone started yelling from a distance, the guy fled.

Xander insisted on driving us back home from the resort, and Caleb took my car. Dahlia is physically all right, but she’s shaken. I’m more than concerned about the incident. Caleb has really stepped up, and I’ve decided to suck up my dislike for him and let him help. He’s installing a state-of-the-art security system and has a rotating crew of bodyguards on call.

We decided to wait a few days to tell her about
his
shooter’s release. We hope that with the reported attack, he will be picked up again, and she won’t have to worry. I felt bad deleting her messages, but I had to, for her.

Not being able to see her when she was in the emergency room weighs heavy on my mind, and I wonder why we decided to wait until after the tour to pick a date to get married. So, as we lie together in the calm of the bright crisp morning, I ask her, “Why are we waiting to get married?” I kiss her hair and continue, “It seems like all I was really doing was waiting for you my whole life anyway, and I don’t want to wait anymore.”

She shifts her body so she’s lying on her side and looks up at me. Laughing a little, she responds, “I’m not really sure. But, when you put it that way, I don’t want to wait either.”

“
How would you feel if we charter a plane to Las Vegas and get married today? I can have it arranged in a matter of hours. We can fly up there, get married, and be back here by sunset.”

“
You don’t mind if your family’s not there?”

Sitting up, I pull her to me and straddle her legs on each side of me. Gently tucking her hair behind her ear, I gaze into her beautiful eyes. “I won’t be satisfied until I wake up next to my wife every morning. Dahlia, all I want is you and I forever. We can celebrate later once you’re feeling better. We can even have another ceremony here, but what happened in the hospital I never want to happen again. So will you marry me today?”

Tears drip down her face, but this time they’re not tears of sadness. She leans in and kisses me. When she pulls away, she says, “River Wilde, I would love to marry you today.”