Page 90 of The Unseen
“Please hurry,” she pleaded with the dispatcher.
“Is Rhys all right?” Mrs. Kent asked as she shuffled into the room, out of breath from climbing the stairs. “Good God!” she exclaimed when she saw Rhys’s still form on the bed. “Is he…?”
“He’s alive. Emergency Services are on their way.” Quinn needed to stay strong for Rhys, but her voice shook and her eyes swam with tears. She thought her legs might give out, so she sat down on a padded leather bench at the foot of the bed. She leaned in and clasped Rhys’s outstretched hand. “Hold on. Please,” she whispered.
“What’s driven him to this?” Mrs. Kent cried as she wrung her hands in anguish. “He was so happy, so excited about the coming baby. Where’s Haley?” she asked, looking around. Quinn followed her gaze to the open wardrobe. Empty hangers filled half the space. There were no feminine items on the bureau, not even a hairbrush or face cream. Haley was gone. She’d left.
“Oh, Rhys,” Quinn whispered. His fingers were icy against her warm palm. “Hold on,” she begged. Hot, salty tears slid down her cheeks and into her mouth. She wiped them away with her sleeve, not caring if she ruined her coat. She cared for this man,cared a lot. He’d said once that he wished she’d been his daughter, and to some degree she’d wished he’d been her father. They had a connection, an understanding that had come naturally and unexpectedly and had surprised them both. “Rhys, I love you,” Quinn whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
Mrs. Kent glared at her, as though assuming there was something sexual between Rhys and Quinn.So that’s why Haley left, her accusing stare seemed to say.This is your fault.
Quinn was about to explain when she heard the paramedics downstairs. “Up here,” she called out as she rushed toward the door. She wished Mrs. Kent would leave. She didn’t want her to see Rhys helpless and broken. Quinn pressed the key into the woman’s hand and turned away, her undivided attention on Rhys.
“Step aside, please,” the paramedics ordered as they entered the room. “Are you his wife?”
“No, I’m his friend,” Quinn replied. “I think he’s taken sleeping tablets and Scotch.”
“Has he done anything like this before?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Was he depressed?”
“Possibly,” Quinn said, unsure what had happened with Haley.
“Is this a suicide attempt?” the female paramedic asked as she began to check Rhys’s vital signs.
“I don’t know.”
Quinn watched the paramedics work on Rhys. They hooked him up to an IV and placed an oxygen mask over his face before moving him onto a stretcher. Rhys was like a rag doll, his limbs limp and lifeless, his face a death mask. “I’m coming with him to the hospital.”
“All right, love,” the male paramedic said with a nod. “Let’s go.”
Quinn followed the paramedics as they carried Rhys down the stairs. Mrs. Kent brought up the rear, sniffling loudly as she went. “Where are you taking him? Which hospital?” she asked. “I’ll call for an update.”
“University College Hospital,” the woman replied briskly. “They won’t give you any information unless you’re a relative.”
“I’ll ring you, Mrs. Kent,” Quinn promised. “Does Rhys have your number in his contacts?”
“Yes, he does.”
Quinn raced back upstairs and grabbed Rhys’s phone and keys. He’d need them when he was released.Ifhe was released. She shut down the awful thought and followed the paramedics to the waiting ambulance.
“Is it all right if I hold his hand?” Quinn asked as she sat down next to Rhys.
“Of course. Let him know you’re here,” the male paramedic said. “They always know, even when they’re unconscious. The mind is a marvelous thing.”
“Yes, it is.” Quinn reached for Rhys’s hand and enveloped it in her own. “Rhys, I’m here,” she whispered as she leaned close to him. “I’m going to stay with you until you’re all better, and then I’m going to kick you into the middle of next week, you thoughtless moron,” she said, borrowing an expression from Seth. It was easier to be angry than frightened, and she was frightened. Rhys hadn’t stirred since she’d found him, and his breathing was ragged and shallow, even with the oxygen mask.
The woman gave Quinn a filthy look, but she didn’t care. She was on a roll. “How could you do such a thing?” she raged. “How could you?” Tears were streaming down her face again, andshe angrily wiped them away. “You’re not going anywhere. You hear me?”
Quinn felt some measure of relief when she felt the life-affirming pressure of Rhys’s fingers around her own and saw his lips twitch. He’d heard her.
FIFTY-FOUR
“You look like hell,” Quinn said as she pulled a chair closer to Rhys’s bed.
“I feel like hell. They pumped my stomach.” Even though Rhys’s voice was hoarse from having a tube down his throat, he still managed to sound peevish. He really did look awful. His skin was a unique shade of gray-green, and his eyes were bloodshot and puffy. He was still hooked up to an IV and the polka-dot hospital gown wasn’t doing him any favors.
