Mr. Rockstar (13 page)

“
I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. All I know is that he’s in a coma.” He searched her face. “And that right before he slipped under, he asked for you.”

“
God,” she rubbed her eyes. “I need to get there.”

A half hour later Charlie pulled up in front of the hospital. A crowd of photographers had camped out by the doors. Ian hugged her as she stared out at them, stomach churning. “You can do this.”

She nodded
and squared her shoulders. “Damn right I can.” She opened the door and got out before Ian could help her. Her man was in there, the father of her child, and she’d be damned if anyone would keep her from going to him. As soon as they caught sight of her, some of the paparazzi ran over to the car.

“
Isabelle! Isabelle Reeves, is Vin okay?” … “Why did it take you so long to get here?” … “Is it true that you’re listed as his next-of-kin?” … “How did you two meet?”

“
As soon as I know anything, so will you,” she said politely, pushing through the clot of journalists and photographers as if she’d been doing it her whole life.

“
I heard you dumped him!” one of the journalists yelled and she glared.

“
You know nothing about my personal life or Vin’s,” she retorted coldly. “And our relationship is none of your business.”
I must finally be getting used to this
, she mused, ignoring the renewed surge of shouted questions. Since when was she able to deal with crowd of somewhat hostile people?
Since today,
she told herself, straightening her spine. No longer would she let her shyness dictate her behavior, especially not when someone she loved needed her to be strong. She nodded to the photographers, dismissing them, and then she caught sight of a group of fans standing just behind the crowd of paparazzi. Some of them were crying, others held flowers and poster, and she knew that they were worried about their hero. She waved to them, trying to let them know that she understood and then turned to the door.

Ian held it for her, fending off the mo
st zealous paparazzi until they could get inside. Hospital security kept them out of the building, thank God. They headed for the elevators. “He’s on the third floor,” he said.

Isabelle watched the numbers tick on the display.
“I can’t believe I was so scared. And of what? People watching us?” She rubbed her eyes tiredly. “I wasted all that time. Marvin could be dying and I wasted what we could’ve had.”

“
Hey.” Ian took her hands in his. “You don’t know what the doctors are going to say yet. Marvin is one of the strongest people I know.”

She sighed,
about to reply, but then the elevator dinged. The doors opened. Isabelle steeled herself and walked out. At the nurse’s desk, she asked for Marvin Clementine. The woman behind the counter gave her a sour look. “Only next-of-kin get to see the patients. If you don’t leave, I’m going to call security.” She picked up the phone and held her hand over a button. “I thought they cleared all the crazies off the floor,” she muttered under her breath.

Isabelle and Ian exchanged looks.
“I don’t think you understand. She
is
his next-of-kin,” Ian said.

The woman scoffed.
“You’re Isabelle Reeves?”

Isabelle already had her driver
’s license out. She slapped it down on the counter angrily. “Yes. I am.”

The
woman narrowed her eyes at her and then took the ID. She looked at it, surprise crossing her expression. “Huh. So you are. You’re not what I expected. Wait here.” She got up and went into the back room.

Isabelle grabbed her license and tucked it back into her purse.
“What the hell was she expecting?” Her worry over Marvin made her edgy. She tapped her fingers on the desk.

“
I think they were expecting someone a little more movie-star,” Ian said, gesturing to her grey yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt.

“
Too bad,” she said, growing impatient. “Where did she go?” She craned her neck over, trying to see the papers on the desk. Maybe his room was written down—

“
Ah, Ms. Reeves. Thank goodness you made it,” a man in a white lab coat walked down the hall, hand extended. “I’m Dr. Brown. I’m the neurologist taking care of Mr. Clementine.”

Isabelle shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” she said automatically. “Can I see him? Is he okay?” Her heart was knocking on her ribs at the thought of finally being able to see Marvin.

He didn’t answer her questions.
“Come with me,” he said noncommittally. He led them into a small room with a coffee machine and a few beat-up chairs. He shut the door, then tilted his head at Ian.

“
This is my brother, Ian. Marvin’s best friend.” Isabelle leaned on the counter.

The doctor seemed to relax at that.
“Ms. Reeves, I’m afraid I don’t have good news.”

Her heart dropped at his words.

He held up a hand. “But I also don’t have bad news. Mr. Clementine was responsive and cooperative right before he lost consciousness. He asked for you. Then he fell into a coma-like state. We did an MRI of his brain, thinking he may have some bleeding, which could be pressing on his skull and causing him to lose consciousness, but we didn’t find anything.” He took a deep breath. “Clinically, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

“
So, what you’re saying is that you have no idea why he’s in a coma,” Isabelle said, heart aching.

“
Technically, he’s not in a coma. He’s just in a non-responsive state. The EKG shows that his brain is working just fine.” He shrugged. “Honestly? I’ve seen this before maybe one or two times. Patients usually wake up on their own. It could be that the body is trying to heal itself.”

Isabelle looked at him helplessly.
“What can I do?”

“
Go in, talk to him. He’s breathing on his own and his reflexes are functional. He responds to pain so we’ve ruled out any major nerve damage or spinal cord issues.” The doctor offered a slight smile. “I suspect he will wake up in a few days. Meanwhile, we have him on IV fluids and have been feeding him through a tube.”

“
Can I see him?” Isabelle’s voice broke on the question.

“
Of course. We’ve been waiting for you to come, Ms. Reeves.” The doctor opened the door and led them out. “This way.”

Ian held Isabelle for a moment, then urged her out of the room. She followed the doctor, her legs a little unsteady.
Dear God, please let him be all right
, she prayed.

Chapter Twelve

Marvin dreamed about Belle. She was smiling at him, her hair tousled and eyes sleepy. They were in bed, laughing over something silly. He was happy. He was home with his woman, and he knew he could do anything as long as she was with him. He hoped she
’d stay. He wanted her to stay…

…

He watched Belle get on a plane. She never looked back, not once, not when she got to the gate, not when she crossed by the boarding station. Her hands clenched her carry-on so tightly Marvin could see the whites of her knuckles. He waved at her, called her name, but she didn’t hear him as she walked through the airport, away from him.

…

He played a new song for her and she smiled as he sang. He loved her so much and she knew it, but she had to go somewhere, far away, for a while. He couldn’t remember why. He wrote this song so she would always remember him. She cried when she packed her bags.

…

Marvin knew he was dreaming, but his legs were frozen. His hands didn’t work. He tried to speak, tried to tell someone that they needed to find Belle, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t—

“Marvin.” Her voice reverberated in his head and he struggled against all the weight that pressed down on him, stopping his lungs. His heart ached.

“
Marvin, I’m here,” she said and he struggled harder, his mind crying out…

“I’m here,” she whispered, hand cool on his forehead.

He opened his eyes.

****

Isabelle followed the doctor down the hall, not surprised to see a security guard posted outside the door.

“Trouble with fans?” she asked.

The doctor grimaced.
“Unfortunately.” He nodded to the guard who eyed her curiously, but didn’t speak.

She looked at Ian. How the hell was she going to deal with this? He gave her a quick hug.
“You go on in. I’ll wait here.”

“
Don’t you want to see him?”

Ian nodded.
“When you’re finished.”

Finished with what?
she wondered, but didn’t ask. She gave the guard a small smile. Dr. Brown was waiting for her and opened the door when she nodded. She went inside and stopped short, swallowing hard against tears. Across the room, Marvin lay still as death, machines poised over him like robotic caretakers. The shades were drawn over the windows so that the only light was from a small lamp over the bed. The smell of plastic tubing made her nose itch. The doctor walked over and touched Marvin’s wrist, feeling his pulse. “He’s still strong. Breathing well.” He looked at Isabelle who was still frozen in the doorway. “You can come closer, you know. Talk to him.”

She hesitated and
then squared her shoulders. This was important. The man she loved was sick and needed her and so what if he looked … strange. Like a puppet who’d lost his master. She forced down the lump in her throat and went over.

No crying,
she told herself. “Marvin.” She leaned down and touched his hand. It was warm and dry. God, she hated to see him like this. Where was his mind right now? Was he dreaming?

“
I’ll leave you with him. You can stay as long as you like,” the doctor said kindly.

She nodded, not even looking up as he walked out. Marvin was breathing on his own, thank goodness
. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle seeing him on a ventilator. The only medical devices attached to him were an I.V. line, a blood pressure cuff, and a small plastic sensor shining a red light through his finger.

He looks okay, I guess,
she mused, but then her knees started to shake and she had to sit down.
Dear God, what do I do now?
She put a hand in his and just sat there, staring, for what felt like hours. He was warm.

“
Marvin, I don’t know if you can hear me,” she finally said, squeezing a little. No response. “But I have something really important to tell you.” He didn’t move. Isabelle lost her nerve. Instead of speaking, she put her forehead on his hand, trying to keep her shit together.

“
Isabelle, are you okay?” Her brother walked in.

She wiped her eyes and turned in the chair.
“Yeah.”

He came over and gave her a quick hug.
“The doctors need you to sign some things.”

She shook her head.
“That’s just crazy. We’ve only known each other for a little while.”

Her brother smiled.
“Do you know what he’d think about this?” He swept his arm around the room.

Isabelle followed his gesture
and then sighed. She knew what Marvin would want. Of course she knew. “He’d want us to keep him comfortable until he woke up.”

“
And if he’d been more seriously injured? If the doctors said there was no hope?”

Her eyes watered.
“He would want us to let him go.” She was certain. She wasn’t sure how or why she knew that, but she did.

Ian smiled, walking over to the bed.
“That’s why he chose you.” He urged her up. “Come on. Let’s see what the doctors want.”

An hour later she was back at Marvin’s side. She’d begun telling him about her job, about the changing seasons back east, about random, nonsensical things. She talked until her voice was hoarse, and then she rested her head on his shoulder. When the nurses came to check his vitals and insert the feeding tube, she took a break, then went back in and stayed with him until late. She still didn’t tell him she loved him. And she didn’t tell him about the baby. She was a coward.

A little bit later, Ian made her leave and
get some rest, but she was back the next morning. Staying in Marvin’s giant castle without him felt like betrayal, but she’d been so tired, she’d slept and then left in the morning before she had time to dwell on the silence. Nothing was right without him.

“
Marvin.” She stroked down his cheek. They’d shaved him, so his skin was smooth. His face looked peaceful today.
Please come back to me,
she thought, sitting with him.

“
This is the third day,” she told Ian when he came by around lunchtime.

“
I know.”

“
I don’t know what to do for him.” She scrubbed at her face.
Thank goodness I don’t have morning sickness,
she thought.
No way I’d be able to sit here if I was sick, too, not just heart-sore.

Ian came over and dragged a chair to the bed.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” He sounded tired and sat down.

Isabelle looked at her brother, not surprised to see dark circles under his eyes.
“You’re not sleeping.”

He shrugged.
“Nothing I can do about it.”

“
What about the album you and Marvin were working on?” she asked, wondering if he was still going to go ahead with it.

Ian put a hand on Marvin
’s arm and stood there, looking at his friend for a moment with some complicated emotion on his face. Isabelle watched him, but she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. When he abruptly stood up, she startled in her chair, she was so off-balance.

“
It’s done,” he said.

“
The whole thing?” Isabelle was surprised. “Weren’t there more songs he had to record?”

“
We finished the day of the accident.”

She sat back. The last she
’d heard from her brother, they were still working on it. She couldn’t believe it was finished.

“
He wrote that album for you, Belle,” her brother told her, voice low. “He loves you.”

She
sniffed, tears coming again. She’d already cried so much, she hadn’t thought she had any left, but apparently worry and sorrow and regret made grief come easy. “I know. I love him too.”

Ian
nodded. Clearly, he already knew. He briefly put a hand on her shoulder and then walked out without saying another word.

Isabelle stared out the window
, loneliness eating her up inside.

By evening, her back hurt and her eyes burned. Marvin lay still as a corpse, and she’d reached the point where she couldn’t stand to see him this way. She’d taken to leaning at the window, finger crooked inside the blind, peering toward the street. The crowd of photographers hadn’t dissipated. She admired their persistence.

“
I think he’s going to wake up soon,” the nurse changing his bedding said.

Isabelle swung around.
“Why do you think that?” As far as she could tell, nothing had changed.

The nurse finished tucking in the fresh sheet and smiled at Isabelle.
“He’s calmer.”

Th
is nurse is crazy,
Isabelle thought, but didn’t say it aloud.

The woman must have read her thoughts on her face, though, because she laughed.
“Look.” She pointed to his face. “He’s almost smiling.”

Isabelle walked over
to the bed.

“
Just talk to him,” the nurse said, then she left.

When the door shut, Isabelle sat down. Was the woman right? Was he really coming around? She gathered
his hand in hers again.

“
Marvin, I’m here,” she said, not really expecting anything. She kissed his shoulder and willed him to wake up. His face did seem a little less tight.
Or maybe I’m imagining things because I’m desperate,
she thought. She’d had to sign more forms, keeping him in the hospital for another day. She wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing. Maybe she should’ve moved him to a different facility, like the doctor recommended.
Except, that felt like giving up,
she mused. She wasn’t ready for that.
Not yet.

She shifted, standing up
. She placed her palm on his cheek. “I’m here,” she whispered. She moved her hand to his forehead.
He feels so warm.
When his lips twitched, she jumped back.
Oh my God!

“
I’m here,” she said louder, putting her hand back. She stroked his temples, hoping she hadn’t imagined the movement. Behind his eyelids, she saw his eyes flutter. “I’m here,” she murmured, heart pounding like she’d just run up three flights of stairs.

Suddenly, shockingly, he opened his eyes.

****

Isabelle stood over him, crying. He tried to speak, tried to tell her everything was okay, but his mouth was so dry. He coughed and it made his head
swim alarmingly. He panicked a little, but Isabelle was hugging him, keeping him grounded, and he didn’t care that her grip was too tight. All he knew was that after weeks of hoping she would follow her heart, she was finally here.

“
I love you,” he whispered, voice still not working. “Belle.” He didn’t know if she heard him, but he could feel her tears on his skin.

“
I love you too,” he thought she said, but abruptly the lights brightened above her head, sending shooting pains into his skull. He groaned a little, closing his eyes, and someone tried to hold him down. He struggled, needing to get up, away from all the overwhelming stimuli—

“
Marvin, it’s okay,” Isabelle said, cool hand back on his forehead. “I’m here.”

He stopped trying to sit up. Instead, he clenched his fists against the pain and let her voice soothe him.

An hour later, he was
up and wearing his own clothes, thank God. Isabelle hadn’t left his side. She’d gotten him some water and yelled at the doctors poking him until they went away. He had to laugh, picturing again the fierce look on her face as she admonished all the people clustered around his bed. He’d barely been able to think, and then she’d saved him from the madness. His shy Belle—suddenly loud and outspoken and demanding.

“
What’s so funny?” she asked, smiling. Somehow, she’d inserted her hand into his. Again.

“
You were so fierce, like a mama bear,” he teased, still amused.

She flushed.
“Yes, well, you needed some space. I know you’re used to people crowding you, but that was ridiculous.”

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently.
“Thank you.”

She nodded, then
her eyes teared up again.

“
Oh no, no more crying. I’m okay.” He tugged her until she fell onto the bed. “I’m okay, I swear,” he repeated.

She let the tension fall out of her spine and sighed as she leaned against him.
“I need you to believe me, Marvin,” she murmured.

What did she mean?
“I’ll always listen to you, Belle.”

She shook her head, sitting back up.
“No, I know you listen. I need you to
believe
me. I have something to tell you.”