Page 80 of Daddy's Heart

He dashed them away. “Don’t worry about that now.”

If Randall had done this when she’d complied, Ryder couldn’t try to imagine what she would have looked like if she’d fought him.

“Ryder,” George interrupted. “Sorry, but you need to see this.” He jerked his head toward the door.

“I’ll be right back, baby. Just relax, okay? Don’t move. The doctor will be back soon, and I can take you home.”

She nodded, her eyelids dropping closed. Snuggling back into her pillows, she let loose a small yawn.

“You don’t have to. I know you don’t want me there anymore.” She sighed.

“What?” He leaned closer to her, but she didn’t say anything more.

“Ryder,” George called again.

He pressed his lips together. What the hell did she mean? Why wouldn’t he want her there anymore?

“What is it?” Ryder burst into the hallway. “I want to stay with her until the doctor comes back.”

“Look,” Kendrick said, nodding toward the large white board hanging behind the nurse’s station.

“So?” He didn’t have time for this. He had to stick by Samantha’s side. She could wake up and need him.

“There.” George pointed.

Ryder’s ears tingled as his eyes landed on the name. “Anderson? The same guy?”

“Randall’s name is listed at the bottom. They just changed the room number,” George said. Beside the name were the words “head trauma.”

Ryder peeked back through the curtain to check on Sam. Sound asleep. Even curled up on her side, he could make out the swelling in her jaw.

“Stay here with her.”

“Ryder, don’t.”

“Stay with her!” He pointed to George and Kendrick, then spun around to march down the hall.

Ryder charged through the double doors, taking him to the next corridor with rooms. He scanned the numbers silkscreened on the glass doors until he came to room 214B. Randall’s room. Anderson was farther down the hall, but he would wait.

Ryder shoved open the door and stepped inside. Nurses milled around their station a few rooms down, all too busy with their computer screens and patient calls to notice him.

Soft beeps and the forced air from an oxygen pump greeted Ryder as he moved deeper into the room. A curtain was drawn across the glass doors for privacy, and once Ryder got a look at Randall, he understood why. Someone or something had used Randall as a pinata. One black and blue eye was completely swollen shut. Bandages ran along his jaw and left cheekbone, and his nose was held in place with a splint. A breathing tube protruded from Randall’s neck, running to a machine beside his bed.

The door slid open, and a nurse walked in, freezing at the sight of Ryder standing at the foot of his bed.

“Can I help you?” she asked, holding a tablet in her hands.

“I…uh, what happened to him?” he asked, pointing to Randall. “I was here visiting a friend and I saw him. I had lunch with him earlier this week. How…what happened?” He wasn’t sure the excuse was plausible to work—he’d never been good at lying.

She gave him a once over, then shook her head. “Car accident. Took the turn too sharp getting on the Eisenhower and lost control. Went head on into the barrier.” She checked the monitors, then tapped on her tablet.

“Was he alone?” Ryder asked, seeing as she was talking freely.

“No, there was another passenger. He’s down the hall. Not nearly as bad shape as your friend here. The airbag didn’t deploy from what I heard the officers saying.”

“Do you think…I mean…” Ryder moved his gaze back to Randall, not sure how much longer he could keep up the charade of concern.

“The doctors are doing everything they can. We’re moving him to the intensive care unit in a few hours.”

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