Page 101 of Tight End

“Sam,” Chase hisses.

“Mr. Hartley, I can appreciate your concern, but we did everything we could. The damage?—”

“No, I don’t want to hear about the damage. I want to hear about the fixes.” My fists clench. “Why don’t we start there? And if you can’t take proper care of him, I’ll find someone who can.”

“Jesus Christ,” Chase mutters, pressing a hand to his forehead.

Dr. Rajan folds his hands together. “I understand your agitation. I’ve spoken to Mr. Scott’s father and sister-in-law already. I’ve discussed the prognosis with them. But you aren’timmediate family. So while I can appreciate your concern, you’ll need to speak to them for details.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m sorry.” Dr. Rajan turns away and continues down the hallway.

“Is he seriously leaving right now? When Brixton is clinging to life in that bed? Where the fuck do you work?”

Chase grabs me by the arm and shoves me into a corner. “You can’t go around blasting doctors like that. He’s being treated like a VIP, for Christ’s sake. They have a team of doctors working on him.”

“And yet he’s still unconscious. Not really a strong team,” I growl.

“You need to back the hell off, Sam, and remember I work here. I get that you’re upset?—”

“Upset?” I let out an incredulous laugh and pull away from him. “I am fucking shattered, Chase. Completely shattered. And I need for somebody in this goddamn place to step up and save the man I love.”

“You need to trust the people who are working hard to help him. And even though you’re my brother and an NFL star, you’re still not immediate family, so you’re not going to get news directly. My advice is to stick close to Allie and his dad. They’ll be the ones getting the updates while I’m gone. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Do you think I can see him?”

Chase bites down on his lower lip and looks at his watch. “I can take you to him. You can only stay a minute, though. It’s against the rules, but I know someone who can let us in.”

“Fine. Just please take me to him.”

We take the elevator up to the Cardiovascular Intensive Care Unit and Chase stops at the nurses’ station. A pretty girl smiles at him and I’m hit with a flashof recognition.

It’s Rae, the nurse who was with us the night Chase got his new heart.

He leans in to whisper something to her and she nods.

She walks around the desk and waves us toward her. Nobody else seems to be paying attention. We follow her into a private corridor.

“Mr. Scott is a VIP, so we have him sectioned off but still close enough where the CVICU nurses can get to him quickly.” She gives me a pointed look. “I’m going to get some coffee, and when I get back you had better not be here.”

I nod, staring at Brixton lying on the bed from my spot in the doorway. Chase claps me on the back. “I’m going to leave you. But I’ll be back if I hear anything.”

“Thanks,” I say without turning around.

A whisper of a chill hits my skin. I take a few steps inside the room.

It’s nice. Reminds me of the room Chase was in a couple of years ago. Much homier than the typical rooms.

But the soothing décor doesn’t do a damn thing to ease the ache in my ears from the blaring monitors. He’s hooked up to so much machinery right now that’s keeping him alive. It scares me because I know without those machines, he’d be gone.

Maybe he already is.

“No,” I grunt. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t even think that.”

I walk to the side of the bed. His head tilts to the side, his dark hair hanging over one eye as it usually does. I smooth it away from his pale skin, then trail my fingertips down the side of his strong jaw. A sob struggles to get through the deep ache in my chest but I swallow it down.

I can’t let it out. If I do, I’ll be giving in to the despair and right now, I need to channel every positive thought and feeling I can find inme.

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