Page 83 of Attraction & Repulsion

Take me to Jax, she wrote.

Chapter thirty

Ding.

The elevator doors swooshed open, jostling Carson as her wheelchair maneuvered through the opening. The TICU seemed eerily quiet. Where were the nurses rushing back and forth? Where was the wheeling of carts and equipment? What about the codes being announced over the speakers? Wasn’t this supposed to be a trauma floor?

She fished out the whiteboard wedged next to her thigh to write a question and held it up for her nurse.

“They purposefully keep it quiet so the patients can rest and recover,” he said.

He pushed her down the dim hallway, passing room after room, patient after patient. It was almost creepy just how dead everything seemed. Almost like the building had been abandoned.

Thanks to the painkillers in her IV, the burning in Carson’s throat had subsided to a warm ache. It took some silver-tongued, attorney-style persuasion to convince her doctor to not drug her into a zombie. She didn’t want to relive her sluggish, drained hospital days pumped full of pharmaceuticals. She only wanted enough to keep the pain at bay. Enough to get her to Jax.

The nurse slowed as they approached the very last doorway at the end of the hall. Carson’s leg began to bounce, and she let it. Nervously, she straightened the oxygen tube on her face, though it was already level, and smoothed her hand down her French braids.

While waiting for permission to visit Jax, Raegan had talked Carson into taking a shower. The clear water shooting out of the faucet had turned murky by the time it puddled at Carson’s feet and slid down the drain. It hadn’t been easy scrubbing off the soot with the tubes still hooked to her body. Thankfully, Raegan had been there to help wash her hair, hold the lines out of the way, hand her a towel, and braid her hair back. Raegan was going to be an amazing mother.

Jax’s room was dark except for a glow emanating from behind his bed, much like the horizon just before the sun breached the sky. The amount of equipment stacked around him was intimidating and a bit nerve-racking. Wires, tubes, lines, and gadgets spilled out from under his gown as though the hospital was trying to transform him into a cyborg.

Under his blanket, a massive lump sat where his left leg should have been, making him look lopsided and deformed. Carson wondered what kind of break it was and how the surgery had gone. One of her clients from years ago had broken her femur once. She’d told Carson that by six months she was back to her normal activities, but even after two years she still didn’t have full strength in that leg.

Even though his bed was adjusted to elevate his upper body, Jax was asleep, sporting his own oxygen cannula. But as Carson was wheeled right next to him, her muscles locked at how frighteningly unwell he looked. A thin sheen of sweat dewed on his face. His black mane stuck to his forehead, and a milky hue coated his skin. She reached out to touch his arm, half-expecting it to be cold and frozen, and she sighed in relief whenit was warm.

Carson smiled gratefully at her nurse after he positioned her chair and locked the wheels. Once he left, she turned to inspect the machines, trying to interpret them. The buttons and numbers and symbols made her eyes cross, but no bells or alarms were sounding. She had to trust Jax was doing alright.

Seeing him alive was surreal. When the darkness had taken her, Carson had been convinced their bodies would be claimed by the fire.

This life was giving her yet another chance. How many times was she supposed to be dead? She should have died in that car accident. The pills and alcohol should have finished the job. Her body should have been smothered in flames. Three chances at life. It was finally time to start living.

Taking Jax’s hand into hers, she lifted it to kiss the top, avoiding his IV. He didn’t stir, and Carson had no idea how long it would be until he would wake. Using her arms as pillows, she leaned forward and rested on the side of his bed. Even though all she wanted to do was stare at his face forever, her eyelids began to droop. The exhaustion was strong, so she closed her eyes to rest.

The car was on fire. Everything was on fire. Carson was strapped to the front seat. It was so hot. Her esophagus burned. The flames danced closer and closer to her, so close that her skin was turning red.

Except the fire didn’t scare her. Unbuckling the seatbelt, she lifted herself through the passenger door window. As she moved, the flames scurried out of her way, as ifshewas going to hurt them. Feet planted firmly on theroad, Carson began walking away from the wreckage, leaving it all behind.

That was when a voice called her name. Looking around, all she could see was the blaze. Once again her name echoed around her—

Carson didn’t know how long she had been asleep. Maybe an hour, maybe only minutes. She swallowed and cringed at the roaring pain. Why couldn’t she dream about popsicles and ice cream? Her eyelids flitted as the hand she was holding squeezed.

“Carson.”

Head popping up, she blinked away the irritation. After a couple of seconds, the blur before her sharpened into shapes. Jax was peering down at her, his beautiful blue eyes radiating. Eyebrows pinched in bewilderment, he looked at her, then at her hospital gown, then at her wheelchair.

“What are you doing here?” he croaked with labored breaths. The rise and fall of his chest was unnatural. He tried to shift in his bed, grimacing when the movement jarred his legs. A frown formed when he noticed the splint.

“Are you in pain?” Carson wheezed, ignoring the ache.

“A little,” Jax said, clearing his throat. “What happened?”

Can’t talk, she mouthed, pointing to her neck. Then she grabbed her marker and whiteboard, scribbled the most important facts she could think of, and handed it to him to read.

Fire downtown. You got trapped. Leg broken. You had surgery. Doctor says you’re fine. Happened last night.

“I remember the fire. I remember them telling me about my leg and surgery,” Jax said. “But that doesn’t explain whyyou’rehere.”

Grabbing the board out of his hands, Carson bit her lip.I went into the building to find you. Smoke burned my lungs and throat. Not allowed to talk.

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