Page 74 of Hook Up

Dr. Marsh clears his throat, no doubt aggravated by my staunch stance. “Surgical intervention is an option, but not one we take lightly, Mr. Gray. I don’t think you’re a good candidate for it, regardless.”

My heart pounds as his words sink in. I can’t wrap my mind around what they mean for my career, my life, and my future. “I can’t race if I can’t see. I don’t want to live if I can’t race.”

A soft cry escapes Greer’s lips as she wraps her arms around me. But I don’t need pity. What I need is a damn cure. “If this is about money, I have plenty. I’ll pay for whatever experimental treatment you have in your bag of tricks.”

“I wish money were the only obstacle, but it’s not that simple, Mr. Gray. Let me worry about your treatment plan. You need to focus on rest and recovery. The stress isn’t helping your situation.”

Now the bastard tells me.

Dr. Marsh continues on a few minutes more, but I’ve tuned out. I’m tired of half-truths and unknowns.

The tension is palpable in the room after the doctor leaves, my anger rising with each passing minute.

“Do you want to listen to some music? I can annoy you with Elvis tunes.”

I know she’s trying, but every cheery word out of Greer’s mouth only makes me angrier. “I want you to leave.”

“Ryder, I know this is scary, but you need to stay positive. It’s so important.”

With that, my anger breaks free of its chains as I hurl my call button off the bed. “Am I bothering you with my negativity, Greer? Putting a crimp in your day?” Punching the side rail, I release a string of obscenities. “I don’t want to live like this.”

“Please don’t say that. You could have died yesterday.”

“If this is what my life looks like now, I wish I had.”

Her hands wrap around mine, but it does nothing to soothe the beast raging inside me, and her muffled sobs only increase my angst. I don’t have the bandwidth to take on Greer’s pain.

I have enough of my own.

“Get out, Greer. Don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you. This is not what you signed up for.”

“I’m not leaving you, Ryder. I told you that yesterday and I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.”

“Get out,” I bellow, my voice sounding off the walls. Within moments, footsteps enter the room. No doubt it’s the nursing staff, wondering what the hell is transpiring. “Leave me alone, Greer. I beg of you.” It’s all I can manage, my words catching in my throat as I turn my face toward the wall.

I hold back the agony until the door closes and I have my wish.

I’m alone with the darkness. My own impenetrable fortress of solitude.

I awaken a few hours later. At least that’s my guess by the lack of light surrounding me. It must be evening, or close to it. Through my hazy memories, I recall being moved to a different room because I was stable, as the doctor termed it. After the emotional breakdown earlier today, that might not be the most appropriate term.

At least I feel a bit better, although it might be the lingering effects of the sedative. Yep, I’m that guy.

Shifting in the bed, I fumble for the call bell. I need to speak with Greer, apologize for biting her head off earlier. She’s only trying to help, and I know this is hell for her, too. If I’m not careful, she’ll race out of my life permanently.

I’d hate that more than the blindness.

“May I help you, Mr. Gray?” a voice asks through the call system.

“Can you see if my wife is around, please?”

“Certainly, sir.”

“I guess I’m not good enough anymore.”

My head jerks at the unexpected female voice to my right. “Mandi?”

My first thought? Why the hell is she here? The second? How different her voice is from Greer’s. My wife’s voice washes over me like the warm Caribbean ocean—enticing and beckoning. Mandi’s voice slices through my thoughts like a cheese grater.

---