Page 84 of Unchained

His face twisted in pain. He clutched his chest and keeled forward. His weight fell into her arms, but she couldn’t break his fall, could only slow it so he didn’t hit his head on the floor. He grabbed her hand, and tears budded at the corners of his eyes. “It hurts, babe.”

Pain ripped through her insides. “Brooks, please. I love you,” she sobbed, dipping her face to his cheek, her hands gripping his knuckles against her chest.

“C-Call.” His arm went limp, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

She let out a cry, deep and ravaging, as she tore her attention from him and ran to find a phone.

I’m too late.

* * *

Bright lights penetrated Brooks’s eyelids. He blinked and a glare filtered in, sparking a deep throbbing sensation between his eyes. Closing them tightly, he focused on the sounds around him: a constant beep that made him think of a woodpecker on crack, call bells ringing from a distance, and the odd voice fading in and out.

“Brooks? Oh my god, you’re awake.” Cam. He’d recognize her sweet sound anywhere. She clasped his fingers, and her other palm flattened on his cheek. “Can you look at me? Are you in pain?”

The frantic firing of questions sure as shit hurt his head, but he didn’t say that. Opening his eyes a sliver, he smiled. “What the hell am I doing in a hospital?”

Keeping his eyes open took more strength than he cared to admit. An image of falling to the floor flashed through his head—he’d told Cam to call an ambulance. Jesus. The doctors would want to dissect him like a frog.

Her comforting hand moved up and down his chest. “The good news is you’re okay. You had a mild heart attack. Thankfully, your heart and everything else looks good, and they’ve kept you stable even though the drug had your blood pressure through the roof.”

Huh. So he hadn’t died even with a 30-percent increase in dosage. That wasn’t information he wanted to get out, but it said a lot about his stamina. “I’m free to go then?”

“You haven’t gotten the green light yet,” she said with a smirk.

Too bad she didn’t realize that nothing short of another heart attack would keep him in place. “I can sign myself out.”

Cam squirmed. “Personally, I’d feel better if you waited for the doctor to discharge you.”

He made a face. “If I haven’t died yet, I’m probably good.” He pushed himself into a sitting position. His head swam, and he grabbed the railing of the bed.

She rushed forward and adjusted the bed so he could sit but still lean back for support. “Don’t push yourself.” The scolding tone irked him, but it wasn’t her fault he was here.

He caught her wrist. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips fell open, and her green eyes, bright in contrast to her pale skin, blinked. “Why?”

“For scaring you. For not trusting you to help me.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, her movements delicate. Shit, she was sore too. They’d both been through the ringer, but Cam had injured her feet, lost her nephew. Plus, her mom was in the hospital, and on top of that, judging by the bright sunlight shining through the windows, she probably hadn’t slept a wink. Fresh anger struck him as he took in the purple bruise across her cheek.

“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay. You scared the crap out of me.”

He reached up and caressed his thumb around her smooth cheek. “How’s your mom?”

She sighed. “I’ve been back and forth from her room to yours, but she’s doing well.”

“Good. What else did I miss?”

“Well, Lexi was here all night and just went home to shower. Dare swung by, and C—”

A knock sounded. Brooks snapped his attention to the door, making his neck ache. A woman in a pressed white dress shirt and navy-blue skirt that clung to her shapely frame walked in. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a smooth ponytail. Her posture and the authoritative hike to her chin screamed cop.

Brooks glared. “Who—”

Cam pulled his hand away from her face and gave his fingers a tight squeeze in warning. “This is Detective Aldridge. I think she has some questions.”

Brooks scrutinized her up and down. The skin around her eyes creased with concern, but the sharpness in her honey-colored irises warned him she’d be ruthless with her inquisition. Fuck it. As much as he hated to talk about his confinement, he had nothing to lose anymore.

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