Page 14 of Her Faithful Protector

With a tired sigh, she closes her eyes. There is a blanket resting at the foot of the bed, and I spread it over her, covering her legs. I wish I had something softer to offer her, but she’s got to feel me. For now, my denim shirt will have to do, so I drape it over her chest, leaving me in just a T-shirt. She grips the crumpled shirt, bringing back memories of our time in Bozeman—me giving her my jacket, which she wrapped around herself.

Just then, the doctor arrives. Ava’s weak voice calls out for me, her hand searching for mine. I grasp her palm, assuring her, “It’s the doctor, sweetheart.”

Ava looks at the doctor and nods when she introduces herself as Celine. Ava looks to be at ease in her company.

“I’ll be right outside,” I whisper.

Sam and I step aside, allowing the doctor to examine Ava in private. I pace anxiously in the hallway, my mind racing with worry. “It’s her fucking fiancé,” I whisper to Sam. “I’m going to mush his ass, man!”

“I can’t agree more,” he concurs.

“She mentioned bringing Quinton to a hospital.”

The doctor exits the room and joins us in the hallway, reassuring us that Ava will be okay. “Firstly, she’s suffering mild concussion because of the blow to her forehead. With plenty of rest, she should recover in no time,” she explains. “And her shortness of breath is caused by her previous battle with leukemia.”

I’m taken aback by this revelation. “I didn’t know she had leukemia,” I admit, feeling guilty for not being aware of her condition.

The doctor flashes a glance of surprise, perhaps assuming I would’ve known, being a man who keeps calling Ava ‘sweetheart.’

“You’re her family?” she asks.

Sighing, I shake my head.

She continues, “I’m sorry, Mr.—”

“Kelleher. I’m Sam’s brother,” I answer, and she tries to hide her surprise.

Sam and I don’t look alike. He takes after our father while I’m apparently a spitting image of my mother—if only I’d known her.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kelleher.” Dr. Celine Tripp looks at Sam and me. “I shouldn’t be discussing this. It’s patient confidentiality. All I can say is that she’ll be okay. She mentioned leaving her medication at home. Perhaps you could fetch it for her and call her family?”

Sam instructs one of his men to retrieve Ava’s medication.

I tell the doctor, “With all due respect, she ismyfamily. I need to know!” I change my statement about who I am to Ava. I might come across as pushy, but Ava’s health is my responsibility.

“Please, Doc,” Sam insists politely.

She hesitates but then reveals, “Ms. West has an underlying lung condition because of her previous battle with leukemia. She’s cancer-free now, but this is a lingering side effect of her chemotherapy. She had to go through the most aggressive treatment.”

“She will be okay, right?” I need to hear it again.

“Yes. Just keep her relaxed and comfortable.”

The doctor leaves us, and I check in on Ava. Her head is bandaged, and she looks so weak and fragile.

“Ava, which hospital did you take Quinton to?” I ask gently.

“St. Peter’s,” she replies in a whisper.

“Can Sam come in?”

She answers with a nod.

I tell my brother about the hospital, and he says, “I’ll get one of the guys to check the CCTV.”

“No, please,” Ava begs. “They said they’d hurt Quinton if I told anyone.”

Her panting returns.

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