Page 67 of Hook Up

My gaze lands on a lithe blonde seated away from the group. Mandi. It’s a knife in the gut to know she’s here, but I can’t spare her the time or energy right now. I need information about Ryder’s condition. Once I know he’s stable and on the mend, I can make myself scarce.

Mandi will just have to understand. Greg and I had dibs on Ryder’s heart long before she came into the picture.

“Are you Greer?”

Turning, I gaze into a handsome, chiseled face; one I recognize from all those racing magazines my brother devoured. Colton Donavan. “Yes. You’re Colton Donavan.”

“Just Colton works. When you address me by my full name, I figure I’m in trouble. Trust me, Rylee uses that tactic.” He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “The doctors are running some tests. They don’t know the extent of his injuries. At least they won’t tell me anything.”

That’s not a surprise. Unless you’re family, a hospital is a vault, no matter if you’re Joe from down the street or the President. “What happened? I saw the accident but—” Words fail me as my voice breaks and Colton wraps an arm around my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“His tire came off coming out of pit row. Before he could get off the track, another driver struck him.”

My gaze flits over to my brother, still hunched in his chair. No wonder he’s beating himself up. Something happened on his watch, and he’s carrying the weight of that failed responsibility. I need more details, but first, I need to know about Ryder. If nothing else, I’m still his wife, and that gives me certain legal rights, including his health status. “I need to speak with a doctor. I’ll get some information for you.”

“I’m sorry we had to meet this way. Ryder won’t shut up about you.”

I narrow my eyes at his words, wondering what in the world Ryderhassaid, considering recent events. But I don’t get the chance as a doctor enters the waiting area.

“I’m looking for Mrs. Gray.”

So much for Ryder keeping his marriage under wraps. I’ll sort that later. “I’m Mrs. Gray.” My gaze flits to the far side of the room where Mandi sits, gaze locked on mine. She may hold his heart, but legally, I’m his next of kin. I can get them the answers they desperately seek.

“Come with me, please. Mr. Gray is requesting you.”

A breath whooshes from my lips as relief washes over me. If he’s requesting me, he’s awake and lucid. All steps in the right direction. I follow the doctor into the unit, sucking in a lungful of oxygen to steel myself for what lies beyond that door.

“Come on. He’s waiting for you.” The doctor forces a smile, nodding toward the room.

There, lying in the bed is Ryder. He’s covered in bruises and scrapes, but he’s alive.

That knowledge damn near brings me to my knees.

“Mr. Gray, there’s someone here to see you.”

Ryder turns his head in the direction of the doctor’s voice, but he doesn’t make eye contact. Odd. “Gigi?”

Rushing to his side, I grasp his hand, noting how he still isn’t meeting my gaze. “Hey, speed racer. How are you feeling?”

Ryder swallows, an audible noise in the quiet descending over the room. It’s the kind of quiet that suffocates you, the same quiet I felt when my mother told us about my father’s abandonment. “I can’t see, Gigi.”

My throat constricts as I blink back the tears, willing every ounce of strength I possess to move me past that moment. “What’s his diagnosis?”

“Traumatic optic neuropathy,” the intensivist replies, stepping to Ryder’s bedside. “He was unconscious when he arrived, so we didn’t realize there was any visual deficit until he woke up. Your husband told me you’re a doctor?”

“I’m a nurse practitioner and I told Ryder never to call me a doctor in front of a doctor.” I squeeze Ryder’s hand, desperate to provide him reassurance. “Neurology isn’t my specialty. What’s the plan?”

“Many times, it rectifies on its own, once the swelling impinging the nerve resolves. To be on the safe side, I’ve ordered some tests to ensure the retina is attached and blood flow isn’t compromised.”

“When will that happen?”

“As soon as possible. There’s no time to waste. But, he wanted a few moments to speak with you, so I’ll take my leave and tell the nurse to send up transport.”

Once the intensivist leaves, I put on my proverbial nursing hat. Ryder doesn’t need a wife; he needs a friend who understands medicine. Adjusting his pillow, I try in vain to make him more comfortable. “Are you in pain?”

His eyes, those beautiful bright blue eyes, gaze past me into the distance. “Everything hurts. What’s going to happen to me, Gigi?”

I want to lie to him. I don’t want to tell Ryder the brutal truth about his condition. He needs hope. That’s the fine line medical personnel tread every day. “They’re going to perform some tests and find out how extensive the damage is to your eyes. From there, they’ll develop a treatment plan.”

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